Souls Unfractured (Hades Hangmen 3)

“I can breathe,” he repeated again. And then I heard his quiet counting under his breath; eleven small, feather light squeezes of his hand in mine. I let him count, watching in fascination as a shocked breath escaped his lips on reaching number eleven.

Then his eyes widened and he rasped, “You’re not hurt… I… I didn’t hurt you…”

Needing to be closer, I shuffled nearer still, so close that our chests were almost touching. “I am not hurt,” I assured. Feeling my face flush with heat, I confessed, “In fact, I have not felt this… content… ever in my life.”

“Maddie,” Flame whispered, and my heart melted when his thumb awkwardly moved to brush over mine. The feeling of the rough pad of his thumb, stroking over my skin, sent shivers through my body.

Then I gasped in shock as I felt those shivers build between my legs. Dipping my head, I glanced down to see Flame’s free hand adjusting himself in his leather pants.

These feelings… these feelings were so new. I did not know what I should make of them. And all from one touch.

“Maddie,” Flame groaned, but the tone of his groan had changed. Gone was the pained groan. In its place was a low rasp. A groan of want.

“Flame,” I whispered in response. Then Flame licked along his bottom lip and my eyes focused on his mouth.

My head tipped forward, instinctively searching for what my heart was calling me to take. Flame’s breathing increased and he asked, “Maddie. What are you doing?”

“I… I want to know what your lips feel like,” I admitted quietly. Flame’s hand squeezed a bit tighter.

“I’ve never done that before,” he admitted. “I’ve never done anything like this before.” Then he closed his eyes and I saw his lips counting to eleven.

When he reached eleven, his eyes opened but the disbelief was still there. He inched back and scanned down my body, as though checking me for injuries.

“I am well, Flame,” I assured again and his head dropped, forehead touching mine. We both froze at the new contact, but neither of us moved away.

And then I moved my hand, still clutching his. Flame’s body was as tense as hard metal. But needing to touch his face, I ran the edge of my index finger along his bearded cheek. Flame’s large panicked eyes never strayed and his neck corded with veins.

When I had reached his jaw, I moved my finger back and repeated the action. I repeated it eleven times. On number eleven, when nothing had happened, Flame’s lips trembled.

“You’re not hurt,” he stated with a broken voice laced with relief.

“I am not hurt,” I confirmed with a whisper. Flame’s large bare chest rolled slightly to the side. With our hands still clasped, my chest pressed slightly against his, we froze.

We breathed.

We stared.

Lifting his free hand, Flame brought it to my cheek, hovering his palm just over my skin. I could see in his eyes that he so desperately wanted to touch my face. So taking my free hand, I brought it behind his and, gently touching the back of his hand, pressed his palm to my cheek.

As soon as his touch held my face, something inside of me was freed. Years and years of fear. Freed from fear of men, of living a lie.

I could not help but drink in the image before me. Our joined hands pressed to Flame’s cheek, and our other hands touching mine. My eyes lowered to Flame’s mouth once more. As if seeing my attention shift, Flame’s stomach muscles tensed and his hips shifted. Regardless, I could not look away.

Flame’s hand, cupping my cheek, tightened its grip, and when I saw his burning dark eyes staring at my mouth, a new kind of tension flashed between us.

“Maddie,” Flame groaned, chest pounding hard.

“Flame,” I whispered in return, his name a breathy moan from my lips.

And then he was guiding me down. With his hand on my face, he pulled me down until my breasts pressed flat against his chest. At the contact, we both stilled.

“Breathe,” I spoke aloud, an instruction to both Flame and myself.

Flame inhaled deeply and I followed his lead.  As I paused to drink in this moment, I realized the sheer size Flame’s chest. He felt bigger than he looked… but I felt safe.

When Flame’s hand stroked along my jaw, it brought his lips back to my attention. Moving my hand from his cheek, I ran it to his mouth and traced the outline of his lips with my fingertip. Flame’s hips bucked upwards at the touch, though his eyes hooded.

With his body tensed, he lowered me down the final few inches, until my lips pressed against his, my eyes closing at the strange feeling. At first touch we both remained unmoving, my face suspended over his, his warm moist lips pressed stationary against mine.

Then his finger stroked along my cheek, and his lips began to move so gently against my lips. And I felt this kiss all the way to my soul.

Flame’s mouth continued to explore, then to my surprise, I felt his tongue softly, tentatively and nervously, slip into my mouth as he released a quiet groan.

My cheeks flooded with heat, my body feeling so different than ever before—alive with light and fire, but safe and filled with trust. Pushing my nerves to their limit, my tongue shyly met Flame’s. Shivers accosted my body as our tongues timidly dueled, both of us trying to understand this strange new sensation. Soft and humble at first, but then a louder, more heated groan sounded from Flame. His tongue further filled my mouth and Flame increased his speed.  And I felt like I was floating, as our mouths fused as one. It felt like I was not me.