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Kaz turned up the switch of his oil lamp as the night wore on. It was jarring working at his old desk, the surface far lower and far less stable than the polished, mahogany desk in the main office. But it was easier to focus up here, working through the books from the Crow Club late into the night, a feat that was near impossible downstairs. The Dregs never retired to their rooms until the early hours each morning, and Kaz didn't like having to deal with their constant laughing and shouting when he needed to concentrate.
They could still be heard below, if Kaz was not mistaken, Keeg had started singing an old folk song, the words heavily slurred. But from his bedroom, their noises were faint, a blip in the back of his consciousness.
As far as distractions went, his gang were the least of his worries.
Kaz tried to force himself to avert his gaze, but he apparently lacked the necessary will-power. The doorway of his sleeping quarters was open, and Kaz could see the elegant way Inej's fingers glided up the buttons of one of his old shirts, the fabric worn and comfortable enough for sleeping in. It swamped her small frame, the hem brushing against the tops of her knees. She hadn't brought any clothes with her when she'd shown up at his window a few hours ago, her nightclothes were most likely still laid out neatly for her back at the Van Eck house.
But Kaz wouldn't complain, she looked damn good in his clothes, better than he did.
She caught his eyes and smiled knowingly. She was the devil, of that Kaz was certain, as she loosened the tie on the end of her braid, letting the long black strands cascade over her shoulders, running her slim fingers through her hair in a way that made Kaz’s world come to a stop.
"Come to bed, Kaz."
"I need to get this done."
Inej glared, her posture sharp in the doorway, she did not lean or slump, her body was always perfectly poised for a show. Her attempt to be intimidating was somewhat damped by her clothing choice, she'd had to fold back the sleeves several times for her hands to even be visible.
Inej had added a thin pair of cotton trousers to the outfit, a concession for him, he knew, so their skin wouldn't brush too much while they slept. It must be tough for her, given the heat-wave Ketterdam was going through, but she never let her discomfort show. Kaz wished he was a little stronger, he’d certainly enjoy seeing her bare legs.
"Bed" she states firmly, leaving no room for argument in her tone. She didn't have to use her knives to get what she wanted from him, she never had. He's always been weak where she's concerned, soft and vulnerable. And right now, Kaz was much too tired to worry about what that sort of revelation could do to his reputation.
Kaz was helpless but to answer her call. He sighs, as he drags himself to his feet, trying to get some circulation back into his bad leg, before grabbing his cane and following Inej back into his bedchamber. She slips onto his bed, the rusted springs silent under her slight weight. The bed is narrow and cramped, but Kaz doesn't mind sharing with her whenever she wants a break from Jes and Wylan. Inej may steel his covers, but she always took his touch issues into account, and Kaz certainly didn't hate waking up to the sight of her.
He knows he should regret giving her bedroom away, but he can't. These fleeting nights spent together, even fully-clothed and chaste enough to satisfy a nunnery, were worth the awkward shuffling and lack of leg room. As long he got to wake up next to her, to see her hair draped across his pillow and her lashes splayed across her cheekbones.
Kaz propped his cane up against the nightstand, weary hands undoing his tie, sliding the long strip of material away from his neck, meticulously rolling it up and returning it to the drawer. He perched on the edge of his bad, kicking off his shoes, not bothering to bend over, his upper body far too stiff from hours of hunching over his desk. He rolled his shoulders back and rubbed at his sore neck. He was getting prematurely old, his lifestyle of working until he passed out was not a healthy one.
He tensed further as he felt the warmth of a hand press against the base of his spine. His shirt kept him safe, he didn't have to worry about the rush of water or the feel of dead flesh, Inej's touch had quite the opposite effect on him. Kaz's spine tingled as her fingers smoothed against his lower back. She pulled away at his physical reaction, muttering an apology.
"It wasn't..." he rasped, voice so hoarse he could barely recognise it."It felt pleasant."
Kaz didn't have to turn to know that Inej was tentatively biting her lip, quietly weighing up her options. What he wouldn't give to turn around and kiss her.
"I could...continue?" she suggested, each word carefully measured.
"....Please"
He felt her shift behind him, the sheets rustling beneath her knees. He could feel the heat of her body, even through their clothing. Kaz closed his eyes, exhaling through his nose. His breath faltered as she pressed both her small palms against him. Her movements started off slow, sliding up and down his back, pressing lightly against the tense muscles. It's only when Kaz lets out a pleased sigh that Inej becomes more bold, fingers tracing his shoulder blades and mapping each bump of his spine, the heal of her palms digging into particularly nasty knots in ways that made Kaz groan audibly.
Something hot was beginning to bloom in the pit of his stomach, and Kaz felt guilty as Inej continued to ease the tension in his body. It should be perfectly platonic, she was simply doing him a favour. She had experienced, too many times, men making nothing out of small displays of civility or kindness. No matter how many times he'd sort relief with his own hand to the thought of her, she did not deserve for him to pervert this. Kaz made to pull away, but the press of her lips against the clothed slope of his shoulder stopped him. Made him shake beneath her touch.
"I'm sorry..." she apologised again, and he could hear the way her tongue darted out over her bottom lip. She made to retract her hands from his shoulders, but Kaz stopped her, tugging at the doubled-over fabric at her wrists.
"Go on."
Inej let out a shaky breath, most likely to steel herself before she hummed in acknowledgement. Kaz released her wrists, letting her hands smooth against the sharp lines of his shoulders and down onto his chest. Her chin bit against the collar of his shirt, her chest pressing against his back. Heat pooled between his legs as he felt the puckered drag of her nipples through her shirt, her bindings long since discarded. If Kaz wasn't a proud Agnostic, he might believe that he had passed onto the afterlife. Whether this was heaven or hell remained to be seen.
Inej was beautiful and warm, but surely this was some sort of torture, to want someone so badly while being unable to so much as touch them? Kaz swallowed hard, his eyelids falling shut as he feels her fingers dip beneath his suspenders, sliding the braces off his shoulders, with slow, precise movements, one and then the other.
"More comfortable?" she asks, her voice barely more than a whisper against his ear. Kaz could only nod. Her hands travelled to his collar this time, lifting the fabric so that she could press her lips against his neck through the material. He could not feel how soft her mouth was as she made her way across the broad lines of his shoulders, but the heat of it was enough to boil him alive.
Kaz burned beneath his clothing. If this was the end of Dirtyhands, he couldn't think of a better way to go. Well, not quite....Her hands continue to work until every muscle in his torso has bent to her will, relaxing seamlessly under her gentle touch. Finally, Inej retracted her hands, her work finished, but Kaz turned to look at her, coffee coloured eyes hazy as he took in her flushed appearance and neatly clasped hands.
She's so close, he could lean in and kiss her. Instead, he presses his bare palm against the curve of her hip, holding her in place, his thumb brushing the delicate rise of her hip bone. He doesn't want this to end just yet.
"Inej" he murmurs like a prayer, his other hand rising as if to cup her face, landing just short on her shoulder, brushing the silken strands of her hair.
"Kaz" she echoes, white teeth grazing her bottom lip before she smiles, taking both of his wrists in her hands as she slowly lays back on the bed, pulling him with her. His bad knee digs into the mattress uncomfortably as he leans over her small frame. The position was unsteady but nothing he could not handle.
Kaz hovers over her briefly, enamoured by the sight of her. He had imagined what it would feel like, to have her sprawled out on his bed, he'd spent many sleepless nights with her out at sea, his mind lingering on all the things he wanted to do to her upon her return. This surpassed all expectations.
Her dark lashes fluttered against her cheeks as she blinked, her lips parted, her dark hair splayed out like spilt ink across his pillows. Her shirt gaped against her slender collar bones, showing a taunting amount of bronze skin. And then there was her breasts, the small rise of her chest visible through the worn fabric of his stolen shirt, he could see her nipples, taunt and dark and perfect. He wished that he could undo the buttons that separated him from her, and see the full extent of her beauty. But this...this was still beyond anything Kaz could ever have hoped for.
"You're staring" she huffs, squirming under his gaze.
"There's a lot to stare at" he quipped easily.
"Are you just going to gawk all night?"
"Sitting on the side-lines isn't exactly my style."
Not true. How many times had he stood like a wallflower, watching Nina pull her into a warm embrace or watch with his heart in his shoes as her lips brushed affectionately against Jesper's cheek? Kaz Brekker was greedy, he always wanted something more. More money, more power, but all of that paled in comparison to how much he wanted her.
He could not risk skin on skin, not yet, not when Jordie still haunted him, but he would enjoy what he could for now. Inej sprawled across his bed, her eyes dark and raking over the length of him as if she were hungry.
At the age of eighteen, Kaz Brekker had never so much as kissed a girl. It was practically unheard of in the Barrel, innocence did not last long, not when it could be remedied for such a cheap price down on West Stave. But he had never been able to engage in those vices. Instead, he'd remained quiet while the other Dregs his age boasted about their conquests. He thanked Saints he did not believe in, that none of them had the coin necessary to afford the Menagerie, Kaz doubted he would be able to keep a firm grip on his rage if he'd found out one of his crew had tumbled Inej.
Not because out of jealousy (though that might be a part of it) but because she had been just a child. It wasn't right.
But now, as she tugged at the front of his shirt, pulling him closer, her legs parting like hands after a prayer, letting him settle between them. If she wanted him, of her own free will, Kaz would give her whatever he could handle right now.
He had no experience, but his hands somehow knew what to do all on their own. He fixed her legs snuggly against his sides, tracing the wiry muscles of her thighs through the thin cotton fabric of her pants. She let out a shaky breath, and Kaz could feel the heat of her core through his slacks. He's sure that she could feel the hard press of his arousal just as easily.
He mapped her sides next, tracing the delicate curve of her waist that had always been so tantalising to him. She wore trousers and tunics rather than gowns, a practical choice but one he'd always found distracting. Perhaps if she'd worn a skirt, he wouldn't have spent quite so many hours fixating on her legs, her slim waist or the tightness of her ass. But, then again, Inej didn't have to do anything to capture his attention, her existence was enough to drive him to complete distraction.
Kaz lowered his head slowly, his breathing coming fast as he leaned forward, pressing his lips against her collarbone. The feel of her through the material made his lips buzz like static, his Adam's apple bobbing as he tried to get a hold of himself. If this was how it felt to touch her fully-clothed, what would it like if she were naked? If they were both naked? He vowed that he'd find out one day, but for now, they had to focus on what they could do.
"Kaz," she whispered, her voice melodic. "Don't stop."
He never had any intention of doing anything of the sort. He kissed between the line of buttons down the centre of her shirt, something scalding searing beneath his skin as he moved so close the rise of her breasts. He travelled down the end of her ribcage and across the flat plane of her stomach. She gasped as his mouth reached the top of her pants, her fingers gripping his bed sheets. Kaz wanted to peel off her trousers, to know what she tasted like, to hear her cries as he devoured her whole.
Instead, he pressed one last kiss, just below her waistband, letting his lips linger teasingly.
"Kaz" she called again, and this time she was reaching for him, pulling at his shoulders, tracing down his biceps before finding his hands. This was a level of touch he could handle, he knew her hands well, each calloused pad of her fingers, each sliver of scar tissue. There was no rising water as she gripped his hands, only the need for her.
She pressed both his palms back against her stomach, guiding them slowly up onto her chest until they were touching the small curve of her breasts. Kaz's mouth felt dry and his arousal twitched inside his tented slacks.
"Fuck," he murmured as her hands fell away, leaving him to marvel at the sensation. He moved his thumbs experimentally, tracing across the underside of her breasts before back up again. Inej let out a shaky moan as his thumb brushed over one taut nipple. Kaz repeated the motion, with both hands this time, happy to hear her sounds of encouragement.
"Use your index fingers too" she instructs, her voice almost unrecognisable, "like a pinching motion."
She's probably done this to herself before, figured out what she likes. Saints knew it was unlikely she ever found any pleasure at the Menagerie. He chooses to focus on the first thought rather than the second. Did she think of him in those moments? Head tossed back, hand between her legs. Did she ever call out his name in pleasure? He sure hoped so. How many times had he done the same for her?
But it did not matter if she'd never thought of him like that before. It didn't even matter if she'd dreamed of different men during her time at sea. Inej wanted him now, in this moment, and that's all he cared about.
He did as she instructed, having to bite the inside of his cheek to fight a groan of his own as her eyes stuttered shut, her head falling back into the pillows. All those years of picking locks at least meant he was good with his hands.
Inej rolled her hips up to meet his, a motion that made all Kaz's thoughts come to a stop. Fuck. This girl was going to be the death of him. He tried to replicate the motion, moving his hips somewhat stiffly against hers. She didn't seem to mind his lack of experience, her hands gripping his biceps firmly as they continued to grind against one another. Kaz was harder than he'd ever been in his life, his erection rubbing against her core with every slight shift. It felt too good, she was too good. He'd sell whatever was left of his soul to be inside her, to feel her clench around him, to see her moving atop him, taking whatever she wanted from him. It was almost enough to drive him to madness.
"Kaz" she panted, her breathing heavier than he had ever heard it. He was close and perhaps so was she. Would this be enough to get her off? He wasn't sure. He slid a hand down the inside of her left thigh and over her centre, fumbling slightly through the fabric before a sharp intake of breath let him know he'd found what he'd been looking for. He's suddenly grateful for every dirty story he'd been forced to listen to while in the Dregs, their crude talk had finally become useful.
"Kaz,...Kaz!" she chants over and over, her lips parted, her eyelashes fluttering against the perfect slope of her cheekbones. She's beautiful, exquisite, lovelier than the setting sun. When she quakes against him, fingers digging frantically into his arms, most likely leaving behind bruises, Kaz knows there's no chance of him lasting. He comes undone, the feeling gross inside his slacks. But he can't bring himself to care.
Inej laughs breathlessly, both euphoric in the aftermath. Kaz clumsily finds one of her hands, gripping it tightly as her eyes meet his, full of warmth. Her tongue darts out over her bottom lip and Kaz is helpless to his body's call, he leans in, covering the slant of her mouth with his lips. The kiss is so foreign, so new and so good, that Kaz doesn't have to worry about the wash of ice-cold water. There is no Jordie, no death, only Inej, her mouth moving against his in a chaste but searing kiss. Kaz feels his hands shake with the force of it, electricity shooting through his nervous-system as she sighs against his mouth, her lips sweeter than anything Kaz has ever tasted.
She grins into the kiss, and Kaz tilts his head, growing bolder, deepening it as much as he dares. Her free hand pulls at his collar, holding him close. Perhaps it's a good thing that they waited till now to kiss, Kaz doubts that if he'd known how good it would feel he'd have ever spared the time to grow his criminal empire. Right now, for those few blissful minutes, kissing Inej is all Kaz wants to do for the rest of his unworthy life.
There's a loud knock at the door, fists pounding against the worn wood. Kaz breaks away, cursing his own stupidity for being too distracted to hear the footsteps coming up the stairs.
"Boss?" Rotty calls from the other side of the door. At least he's wise enough not to come barging right into Dirtyhands' bedroom.
"What is it?" Kaz growls, his voice hoarse. He can hear Inej giggle beneath him, pressing her grinning lips against his shoulder to muffle the sound.
"Drix has run into some trouble with the Black Tips near Fifth Harbour, seems like they’re trying to poach our pigeons again.”
Kaz sighed angrily, the sound rumbling in his chest. The last thing he wanted to do was crawl out of bed and deal with Geals, but for Dirtyhands the rough work was never done. "I'll be right down. Get Anika and Roeder organised, they're coming with."
"So am I," said Inej as Rotty stomped back downstairs. Kaz pealed himself away from her, undoing his trousers as he stumbled, stiff-legged off the bed. He'd need to change, he wasn't facing down the enemy in this state.
"You'd still come even if I said no," Kaz's lips twitched despite his sudden change in luck.
"Perhaps," Inej smirked widely, as she sat on his bed, arms hugging her knees. Her face was still flushed, her dark eyes bright, her hair comically awry. Beautiful. Kaz wished he could spend every night like this with her. Minus the Black Tips, of course.
He picked up his cane once he was finally presentable, his eyes catching one last glimpse of Inej, the tail of her braid whipping behind her as she disappeared out of his window. He sighed and adjusted his tie, unable to fight the sense of satisfaction that swelled inside his chest. When they made it back to the Slat, perhaps he and Inej could pick up where they left off, but for now, duty called.