He collected the wetness there and brought it back up, using it to slicken the glide as he circled that spot right at the apex of her thighs with expertise.
Luella gasped and trembled against him.
"Let me see your wings," Graves murmured.
Her midsection tightened as she let her wings span out, slowly, then all at once. She saw the white feathers from the corner of her eye. Graves stroked his hand through them. It was true—he knew just the amount of pressure to apply to make her dizzy. Her hips shifted to the tune of his fingers between her thighs and their twin heartbeats, thudding dangerously from desire.
"Look at this. Undone so easily," he said roughly against her skin, head rising until he took her lower lip between his teeth and tugged.
His dark wings stretched behind him, blocking out the grey stone and curling over his shoulders, as if to cocoon her.
She reached out, palms brushing his wings. Like soft down, they shivered beneath her touch. Long and lewd, he groaned, the sound rattling straight through her core.
Graves’s wings snapped wide, crushing her to him. In shock, her thighs locked around his waist. Water poured over her head.She suddenly found her back against the stone, right beneath the waterfall. It streamed over them both, wetting her hair. The white strands turned a dark grey, as did her feathers—while his black hair and black wings only grew a deeper shade of pitch.
His lower half pressed into her core, and her head tipped back against the wall as the water washed over her.
Her half-lidded eyes met his rapt gaze.
"Gods, look at you. If the others knew I had you like this right now…" He trailed off.
It was a sharp blast of frigidity to think of the rest of her Vincire right now. What would they think? What would Az and Bastian think? For Luella to let Graves, whom she’d been so distant and cold with, to touch her like this?
Luella’s fingers spread out against his wet feathers. "What they don’t know—remains between us." Her breath hitched.
He smiled, scar twitching. Her fingertip lifted, trailing over the length of it. She thought she already knew, but it was the one part of his story he had not told.
"The scar?" she questioned.
The hands on her hips flexed, digging into the space right under the crease of her bottom. "My father. He tried to behead me—he missed."
She leaned forward and, holding his eyes as best she could, kissed the scar.
Wordlessly, he took her jaw and tugged her up to his lips.
Down, down, down, they both spiraled beneath the pounding water, mouths locked as heat built between them. Their lips barely broke as he brought her to climax. When she slipped down the line of his body, her legs trembled and threatened to give out as aftershocks swept through her.
Water obscured her vision and clung to her lashes as she reached for him, fingers diving beneath his soaked shirt, whichclung to his chest, allowing her to see every dip and rise of his muscles.
"You want to touch me?" He gave a half-smile. "Are you sure you know what you’re doing, sweetheart?"
She bit her lip and nodded. She had touched Az a few times, but he rarely let her do so until he reached his completion, forcing her hand away so he could finish by his own hand—as if he thought her to be too sweet to touch him in that way.
"What do you want?" he asked her.
What did Luella want?
In this private space, hidden by mountains and water, she found she wanted to do to him what had been done to her.
To press her trembling fingertips to the desire she saw straining against his soaked trousers.
How could she ask that of him? She was no temptress.
She gripped the waistband of his trousers, blush rising. "I want…"
"Say it."
Her knuckles brushed over his clothed hardness. "I want to touch you here—like you touched me."
