Penny #2
“You know, Kitingor,” he called, “you may not need to worry about what I’ll do to him. Penwell might just manage to be a greater danger to himself than anyone else.”
The echo of Merrick’s chuckle rattled around in my brain on the long walk across town. Kit kept a stranglehold on my hand, but he didn’t pause long enough to let me cling on again.
Once we were inside the house, that changed.
Kit had barely crossed the threshold before he scooped me up with one arm behind my knees and the other across my back.
I sagged against him, no longer minding the dirt, oil, and bone dust. I was just glad to have my arms around him again and my head pillowed against his shoulder as he carried me to the bathroom.
The panic that chased me out of the smithy had worn off, and now I felt more embarrassed than anything.
I kept quiet, swallowing apologies and explanations while Kit got us situated in the bathroom, then started filling the tub.
When he pulled my knife from his belt and set it in the sink basin, I cringed.
I’d made a mess, all right. Of the blacksmith stall, of our clothes, of Kit’s standing with Merrick. The fact that I’d dashed through the town square wielding a dagger like some kind of madman would have its own consequence. And all because I’d dropped a damn horseshoe.
I could blame the restless nights or the tension that had kept Kit and I apart for weeks, but ultimately the fault was mine. And while Kit quietly eased me into the tub and climbed in after, I couldn’t shake the assault of negative thoughts.
Kit tried to leave me in Eastcliff. He’d seen this coming. He’d predicted so clearly that I would be a source of trouble. A menace to myself and others. A liability.
A godsdamned curse after all.
The warm water should have soothed me, but I couldn’t relax. I stayed balled up, stubbornly resistant to Kit’s efforts. When he spoke at last, soothing words about keeping me away from Cedric, about keeping me safe, I wanted to cover my ears.
I didn’t doubt him. He killed a man to protect me, and I had watched it destroy him. Every time he stood between me and harm, he took the abuse instead. I was hurting him. With my vulnerability, my ineptitude, my existence. And no amount of offerings or prayers to Eeus would remedy that.
Washed and dried, I stood beside the tub while Kit scrubbed a towel through my hair.
I had yet to say a word. I couldn’t even hold his gaze.
My skin was warm from the bath, but I felt wrung out and cold beneath it.
When he finally dropped the towel and took my head in his hands, I looked up at last.
The pinch between his brows relaxed, and I let myself fall into the dark pools of his eyes. They were boundless things, so brown they were almost black. The void had never frightened me. I saw him best there, the deepest, truest parts of himself.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
I slumped through a heavy breath. “Quite fine. I almost wish I had something to show for all that fuss. Something besides the bruise to my pride.”
“Best you don’t,” Kit said softly. “If Cedric really had harmed you, I would have given him cause to regret it.”
“I’m going to regret it,” I muttered, dragging my fingers through the damp ends of my hair. “Merrick will send me somewhere else now. Somewhere worse.”
“You don’t know that.”
“He’ll find something awful,” I insisted, “even if he has to make it up. He’s spiteful like that. You know.”
Kit chewed his bottom lip but said nothing.
“Can I tell him no?” I asked. My voice came out thinner than I liked, a tremor beneath the words. “Can I just…” I sighed. “I really am a layabout. Here I’m begging to be your house husband and we aren’t even married yet. I told you I wouldn’t do that.”
“If it were allowed,” he said gently, “I would much prefer you stay here.”
I searched his expression and saw only resignation. “But it’s not allowed.”
He shook his head. Reaching up, he brushed the fringe of hair back from my forehead, curling it carefully behind my ear. “I think we should go to bed,” he murmured.
“I’m not… tired,” I lied. I may not have been sleepy, but I was bone-weary. Riddled with a kind of exhaustion that would topple me before long.
Because of that, it didn’t take much effort for Kit to pull me in.
His bare skin was heated from the bath, and it slid smoothly over mine.
Chests brushing, arms encircling me, then his face nuzzling in.
Kisses up the side of my throat spurred me to tilt my head, giving him access to the spot where my pulse beat strongest.
“Kit…” I began while gooseflesh prickled across my shoulders.
His hand roamed lower, over my backside, driving out a sigh.
“Kit,” I tried again, a little more direct as he continued to ghost kisses up my throat.
“Hmm?”
I sighed again because, gods, it felt good. I was finally starting to relax, easing muscles that had been so tense for so long they now ached. But the exhaustion clung on, and maybe it would be best if I did sleep. Or just… closed my eyes for a while.
His other hand traced down my side and over the arch of my hip, where he paused to squeeze. If he touched any lower, I might not be able to deny him.
I wasn’t sure I wanted to.
His unspoken offer felt like a fragile truce, and to turn it down might hurt him, or drive him away again. I couldn’t bear that. But the events of the day wore heavily on me, and while I was out of the water, I still felt like I was under it. Sinking. Drowning.
What I needed was not to think for a while.
“I’m not…” I swallowed as I pulled slightly back. “I don’t think I’m up to it right now.”
The furrow returned, and Kit looked me over with an air of concern. He excelled at worrying, and I gave him every cause.
“What if I…?” His lips twisted, cutting off the question. “Perhaps I could be up to it this time, if you’d rather. Let me take care of you for once.”
Realization dawned, aided by the flush of color that dusted Kit’s cheeks.
I knew I’d been his first, and I’d been little more than a novice myself.
Our intimate endeavors had grown bolder over time, and I would venture to say I was improving.
But our bedroom roles had remained constant.
Kit had shown no interest in changing things, but it seemed he had a different thought now.
The heat of his palm on my backside felt suddenly searing.
“Oh…” I wet my lips.
It was hard to hold his gaze. I felt suddenly sheepish standing nude in front of him. The idea of being taken to bed and… taken, rendered me speechless. So, I nodded, looking a bit stricken if Kit’s answering chuckle was any measure.
Then he took my hand as he had in Merrick’s office and led me from the bathroom toward our bedroom. I clambered onto the bed while he shooed the kittens out into the hall and closed the door. I sat and hugged my knees to my chest, hoping the posture would hide the rapid fluttering of my breath.
Kit didn’t rush, and I thought I saw him breathing a little harder, too.
His face was pale where it had been pink before as he got the oil pot from our side table and poured some into his palm.
My attention fixed on his fingers turned slick and shiny as he climbed onto the straw mattress and crawled toward me.
Kneeling before me, he used his dry hand to comb through my hair. “You’re going to need to relax, sweetheart,” he said. His voice wavered.
I nodded, very aware of my arms and legs still wadded between us. But uncurling took a conscious effort. It felt vulnerable.
I was tired of feeling that way.
So, instead, I hugged my knees harder, wringing the air from my lungs. His name came at the end of it, something torn between a whisper and a sob.
“K-Kit?”
I couldn’t find the words to say more.
I didn’t have to. He leaned in and kissed my forehead, then murmured against my skin. “I’ve got you, Pen. I’ve always got you.”
His breath was warm and shallow where it puffed across my temple. He held there, his hand still cradling my face, but he didn’t move to close the space between us.
Then, softly—like he didn’t want to sway me either way—he said, “This doesn’t need to go any further.”
I drew another steadying breath, then let it go. I unspooled my body carefully, easing onto my back and opening myself to him. The sheets felt cool against my skin as I bent my knees and parted my thighs, giving him space to settle between them.
“I want it to,” I assured him.
Kit watched me with such tenderness that I nearly turned my face away from the sheer intensity of it. But I didn’t. I met him head-on.