Dante grunted softly, but she was lost to the sudden surge of power. Yes more want need take yes. Her gift demanded, like the ocean dragging a sinking ship under. Tethering herself, she focused on his face, fighting the craving until the tide receded.
His jaw went rigid, but he didn’t pull away.
When she lifted her hands, they exhaled.
“Well,” she said. “How bad was it?”
“Bearable.” He cracked his knuckles. “Again.”
“Not yet.” Shaking her hands out, she left to fetch water and crackers. If hunger and thirst were risk factors, she’d shove both in his face at the first sign of trouble.
Out of habit, she put both glasses in the center of the table and sat, stunned by the realization that, even without gloves, she could have simply handed it to him.
Dante ignored the crackers, but downed half his glass. “You go palms up this time. I’ll pull back if I need to.”
She hated relinquishing control, but she couldn’t gauge his pain, and he could. This time when they touched, the voracious need was less insistent, and she was able to pay attention to everything else. She counted silently, noting the texture of his skin, the steady beat of his pulse against her fingertips, how very alive he felt.
He let go as she reached fifty-two.
“Well?” she asked, breathless.
“Better. The first time hurt. This was … uncomfortable, but not unpleasant.”
“Those words mean the same thing.”
“No, they don’t.”
“Of course they do. If something is uncomfortable, it’s unpleasant.”
“Not always.”
“Give me one example of an experience that’s uncomfortable and pleasant.”
“A massage. Amazing after a fight, but ouch.”
“A what?”
“A body rub for sore muscles. You’ve never had one? Oh, right. ’Course not.”
“You pay someone to rub your body?” Who was she kidding, she’d pay to rub his body.
“For a good massage I’d beg, borrow, or steal. There’s this girl who lives above the Barrel—” He shook his head with a small smile. “Scented oils, clean sheets, and her hands are magic.”
“I don’t need the details, thanks.” But the image he’d painted was already there, and her face went hot.
Dante narrowed his eyes. “What is going on in your head right now?”
She lifted her chin. “I was struck by the memory of you in that fighting ring. I was quite sad that something so pretty was about to be destroyed.”
Whatever he’d expected, it wasn’t that. “Uh. Thanks?” He pointed to her eyes, then turned his fingers to his own. “Focus. I’m trying to explain how something can hurt in a good way.”
“And I’m trying to explain why the words good and hurt don’t go together.”
“They can, though. I just need the right example.” He grasped in the air for some elusive example, until his gaze fell on a stack of novels. “Arousal!”
Her cheeks burned so hot her hair might light on fire. “I said I don’t need the details.”
He bit his lip against a laugh. “Unrelated. Bear with me. I know you’ve been locked up here for a while, but I’m guessing you’ve still thought … thoughts.” He aimed a pointed look at the books. “So. Like I said, uncomfortable but not unpleasant.”
She wiped her expression blank. She was thinking all kinds of thoughts at that very moment, but she would not react.
He snapped his fingers. “Exercise. I should have said that first.”
“You really should have.”
He laughed far longer than he deserved to. “You know what I mean, that good ache in your muscles after a hard workout. Uncomfortable, but pleasant.”
“Fine,” she said through gritted teeth. “Does it feel like any of those things?”
“Well, no.” He frowned. Of course it didn’t. It felt like pain, and she’d never wanted to know more specifics than that, but she had to understand if she wanted any hope of taming it. “It’s more like a … buzzing. Or a vibration. It only hurts when it’s too … fast? Intense? It knocked the wind out of me at first, but it got less noticeable each time—more like a purr.”
“What is it with you and cats?”
He grinned. “Guess you remind me of one.”
“Because I’m so sweet and lovable?”
“No, that’s not it.”