He rose back up, pulling her into him. He grabbed her hands, lacing his fingers through hers. He held them up, staring at the calluses.
"These hands kill," he said, his voice flat.
"And yours?" she challenged, her eyes burning.
"Mine destroy," he replied.
He kissed the rough, hard calluses on her palms… the marks of a woman who had killed to stay free. He licked the center of her palm, his tongue broad and demanding, before taking each of her fingers into his mouth, one by one. He sucked on them with a carnal intensity, his teeth grazing her knuckles, honoring the strength in her grip.
He moved to her arms, kissing the biceps, the inner elbows, the forearms. He treated her body like a weapon he was inspecting, a piece of high-tier gear he was finally getting to use.
He finally dropped to his knees before her. He was a man who had stared into the void and decided to live, and right now, his religion was the woman standing in the amber firelight.
