What she liked.

Kell drank it with slightly wide eyes, overlaying the words and shatter-edged images in his mind, over what he knew of her. I want to feel alive again.

His heart gave a leap inside his ribcage, knocking against things inside, a buzz of power that lit up his nerves like turning up the gas on a flame.

Instinctively he reached up and took her wrist, curling his fingers around it and bringing it to his mouth, where he could kiss that delicate skin, graze it with his teeth as if he wanted to bite down and taste her.

"I like," he began, "that you are so forthright with what you want." He pressed with his teeth, heavier down, blunt and claiming pressure as he sucked a soft, deep mark into her skin.

It was cold enough that it would be covered with clothes easily enough, but it was so near to showing.

It was there in the back of his mind -- she'd been hurt, but Kell knew from experience that being treated as something fragile rarely helped as much as anyone thought it would.

"I've seen how you come alive in battle," he murmured, his lips warm against her palm.