Sergen, never one to hesitate when she offered herself to him, did seem to think about her request for just a brief moment. Then he pulled her closer, giving her the kiss she desired, the strong arms she needed. Min was still cold and wet all over, but somehow he was warm—to the touch, the taste, even the smell, somehow.
The little den they'd been given was a small, rounded space cut out of the earth and stone. It's previous owner had laid down a thick bed of reeds in the nearest corner, which Sergen carried her over to, laying her down on them. It was dark inside that cramped space—the only light came in through the small hole they'd both crawled through, so he was just a shadow hanging over her, looking down on her.
Silent, yet pleading, Min reached for him. She felt dark herself, empty, hollowed out.
"You must be exhausted," he said. The warmth of his body seeped into her bare flesh, like she wanted to spread his essence into her hands and smear it all over her body.
