Her slim fingers curled about his forearms. “You hurt me, Jack.” She was close enough that he heard her swallow. “For so long.”
“I’m sorry.” Pathetically small and useless words.
Soft breath caressed his face. “So I tried to hurt you in return. But it only made my pain deepen. I suspect it was the same for you.”
She did not know the half of it. But he shook his head slightly. Words burned as they worked their way out. “Your pain is mine.” His fingers tightened on her. “Infinitely.”
You deserve better than me. You deserve someone who can make you happy.
“That’s where you went terribly wrong,” Mary said softly. “You make me happy.”
He hadn’t known he’d spoken aloud. Jack stared at her, not knowing what to say. So he kissed her. Not hard. Not frantically. But in the way he’d always wanted to: as if she were his. Mary opened to him, her warm tongue sliding into his mouth.
Together they fell back onto the bed. He slid between her open legs, rocking his stiff cock against the barrier of skirts and sheet, gritting his teeth when pleasure and want punched through him with the force of a freighter.
A little sigh escaped her, and her fingers drifted down his face, along his throat, raising the tiny hairs upon his skin as they went. She stilled as she reached the chain about his neck. Her finger hooked it and lifted. It had taken him a few moments to figure out that the key turned invisible to the eye when worn against the skin. Only by pulling it away could one see it.
A smile played about her lips. “My key.”
The chain was too short for him to see the key now, but he could almost feel it dangling just above his skin. “I wanted to keep it safe for you.”
Her legs twined farther around his as she gazed up at him. “That you did.” The color deepened upon her cheeks, and she licked her kiss-plumped lips. He watched, his cock twitching, his pulse picking back up. Her voice grew almost shy, save for the huskiness underneath it all. “Will you put it back on me?”
Jack swallowed. Hard. Beyond the roaring of his ears and the tightness of his skin, he felt the chain around his neck loosen and slither free, and then she was holding her key. An offering.
Everything grew silent, save the sound of their breathing and the thundering of his heart. His focus narrowed to the rise and fall of her chest and the row of toggles fronting her regulator’s tunic. It was a simple linen one, the sort they wore when practicing combat. The natural shape of her beneath the cloth made it clear she was not constrained by a corset. Anticipation made his words thick. “Were you expecting a fight?”
A small smile tilted her lips. “Perhaps.” Her gaze grew dark. “Or perhaps I did not favor too many impediments during our discussion.”
His breath caught. “Practical girl.” It was said lightly, but the knowledge she’d given made him shake, every bit of him, save his fingers. They were steady and determined as he pulled each toggle tight, then released it with a tiny click. With each button set free, his blood grew hotter. Her eyes followed his progress, and her sweet lips parted, drawing in short gasps of air.
The tips of her fingers, so lightly holding his biceps as he worked, seared his skin. At last her tunic was spread open, revealing the tissue-thin ivory chemise beneath. Gently he touched the smooth skin just below her collarbones, and her breath hitched, that fine skin prickling with gooseflesh. His breathing grew labored, his mouth dry, as he worked the little pearl buttons free, and when he finished with the last one, he opened his prize.
He’d seen her before. But not like this. Not when she was arching her back ever so slightly, lifting her luscious breasts up like an offering. Not when he could touch her.
So he did. Light and careful, as he ran a finger along the edge of the golden teeth guarding her heart. “Does it hurt?” he whispered. He needed to know that first.
“No.” A tiny tremor lit over her skin. “It feels… wonderful.”
He stroked the other edge, gently, smiling as he did it. He hadn’t expected to smile with her. Not this way. Happiness bloomed warm and tender beneath his ribs. His fingers drifted down, tracing under one breast. They were small breasts, firm yet delicate like the rest of her. The honeyed caps of her nipples pointed upward, just begging a man to suck.
Well then. Jack swooped down and drew a silken tip in deep. Mary cried out, her lithe body bowing into him. He smiled around her sweet nipple, then caught the hard hoop of her piercing with the tip of his tongue and worried it.
“Jack!” She grabbed his shoulders. Her nails biting into his flesh were a sharp pleasure.
Slowly he pulled back, holding on to his prize as he went, until the tip was freed, glistening in the light, and the little crystal hoop stood at attention. “I had to prepare it.” Unable to help himself, he gave the stiff nipple a flick with the end of his tongue before looking up at her flushed face. “Give me your key.”