Page 298 of Immune

She looks down at me. At my body, the weapons still on the floor several feet away, the locked door, and the space stretched out around us. Her breathing steadies, and it proves why the floor matters. There’s no bed, no walls, or a body over hers unless she moves it there.

She kneels over me and reaches for my waistband.

“Protection,” she says.

“I’ve got it,” I tell her, reaching for the packet in my pocket.

Her eyebrow lifts. “You just carry those into fucked-up scenarios like earlier?”

“It was in my pocket before the hallway,” I dutifully inform, and she studies me for a second, then looks away with a small shake of her head.

It’s another little flash of her, but not a joke she chooses to make. Not now.

Her hands are steadier as she helps me. Once my length is covered, she looks at me for a long moment. Then she says, “Don’t make me feel delicate.”

“I won’t.”

“Don’t make me feel clean either.”

My chest tightens, but I give her what she wants. “I won’t.”

“I’m not clean.”

“No.”

She flinches even though she asked for truth, and I touch her thigh boldly, but only there and only because she lets me.

“You’re alive, though,” I say. “So I think clean can sit back and wait.”

Her eyes shine again.

“That was a very good answer,” she whispers, then she takes me in her hand and guides me into her.

Both of us stop before her hands flatten on my chest. My hands grip the mat instead of her. Not yet.

She lowers herself slowly, jaw clenched, eyes locked on mine like she’s daring me to turn into every bad thing she has ever known. I don’t, though. I stay.

It’s only when I am fully inside her that she exhales so hard her shoulders drop.

“Okay?” I check, and she only nods. So I pause and push, “Words.”

“Yes, Kaito, I’m okay.”

Her voice is rough and I believe her.

Then she moves. The first rock of her hips makes my vision blur at the edges and arousal shoot through my veins and straight to my cock. The second makes my knot start to swell way too soon. It’s way too much, and I have to force myself to grit my teeth and breathe through it.

Dakota feels the change and her eyes drop. Then they lift again.

“No panic?” I ask.

“No.”

“Good.”

“You sound relieved.”

“I absolutely am.”