Leela laughed even louder. “As though Sethios has any room to talk. He and Caro play with knives.”
“Wakefield’s more into subtle dominance play,” Balthazar said thoughtfully. “A knife might be a limit for him.”
“You’ve clearly thought about this.”
“Many times.” There wasn’t an ounce of shame in that admission. “But I respect his preferences, and…” He trailed off, his gaze lifting to the night above. “And I like seeing him happy.” Soft words and spoken with a hint of adoration.
“You love him.”
“Like a brother,” he murmured. “We have our differences, but we’re family.”
“That’s Vera to me.” Leela didn’t really have anyone else. Seraphim weren’t the family-oriented types. They considered love and familial ties to be weaknesses. Wastes of time. Unimportant frivolities meant for mortals, not higher beings. “I haven’t spoken to either of my parents in over a thousand years. And I never talk to Mel.”
“Many Hydraians are the same since our fathers have always tried to kill us. So we created our own families among each other.”
“That’s the best way.” Leela leaned into his side as he slid his arm around her lower back. “I chose my family, too.”
“Vera.”
“Vera,” she repeated, confirming it. “Gabriel, too. But he’s more like a surly older brother. And Ezekiel is trouble personified. However, we’re all family in a way. Bonded by a cause.”
He hummed in agreement, his steps slowing as they reached a crossing section of walking paths. One way led back to the water and up to Jay’s house. The other took them into another area of the city.
Balthazar went in the latter direction.
She didn’t ask why, just let him lead. He was following a memory, one that tickled the edges of her thoughts now.A smile. Warm touches. Laughter in the air.
Her heart warmed just thinking about it.
“I really should invest in this city,” she mused aloud. “It’s beautiful.” And peaceful despite being populated. She loved the overall ambience, the water, the beautifully colored buildings.
A sigh trickled from her mouth, her eyes almost shutting in exquisite bliss.
“Need me to carry you, sweetheart?” Balthazar whispered against her ear.
Her lips turned upward. “I can always just float along beside you.”
“In your angelic form?”
“Mmm,” she hummed, lost to the romantic moment of walking the street with an essential god of a man. It felt so right and perfect.
“So memorable,” he echoed, steering them along another turn again. She moved with him, not paying attention at all until he shifted to push her up against the wall of a building. Her lashes fluttered all the way open, her gaze darting up to his.
That sense of déjà vu slammed into her senses, stealing her breath.
We’ve fucked here. Against this wall.
He didn’t answer her verbally, instead choosing to kiss her.
Soft and sensual.
Slow and thorough.
Seductive and taunting.
All wrapped up into a single embrace underlined by his skilled tongue.
He explored her mouth as though it was their first time, memorizing and mapping every reaction. She moaned, loving his attention to detail.
