He held still beneath her touch, lashes closed, simply reveling in her tender affection. Gods, but he'd dreamed of this: to have her in his arms, lips on his, and her sweet, soft touch soothing his inner demons. Genya was correct that Daemon was indeed starved for affection - the rough-and-tussle "brotherly love" he shared with his siblings could never compare to this: being in a woman's arms and being held so close.

Hearing her whispered words set his own heart to thumping, and Daemon honestly thought he might explode, hearing that soft little admission. His first instinct was to sweep her up into his arms, swoon or not, and carry her off somewhere away from both of their worlds, but he quickly swallowed that one and went for the second, which was to gently coil a strong arm around her and coax her into his lap. He'd never hurt her, but he wanted to hold her, however he could.

The kefta was a cumbersome irritation, and he gave it a derisive snort, but didn't insist she slide it off. If she needed the shield, so be it. Daemon situated her astride his lap, both arms winding around her waist to hold her close. Safe. Protected.

Cherished.

"I'll keep it safe," he promised, gazing up at her, clear blue eyes bright. Sincere. "I protect what's mine, Genya Safin. A large hand cupped her cheek, slipped fingers into deep red locks. "...let me love you. Please."