Steam curled thick and silver through the air as she removed her beautiful gown, letting the fabric whisper down her bodybefore she folded it carefully and rested it atop a smooth, warm rock near the water’s edge. The air kissed her bare skin at once, and she inhaled deeply, feeling the heat cling to her breasts, her hips, her thighs.
Lyssena was proud of her full figure, and now that she had been intimate with Erevos, she found herself swaying her hips as she walked toward the water.
She felt free within herself, even bare, even so exposed.
That, more than anything, was a miracle.
“You do not have to wear anything at all,” Erevos said from behind her, his voice low and smooth as he moved toward her, the sound of water already responding to his presence.
At that, she smiled widely. Did he know he was flirting with her?
“Would you prefer that I never wear anything at all?” she asked, turning her head just enough to look at him over her shoulder before taking his hand, her fingers curling between his, and slowly stepping into the warm, waiting water.
It welcomed her at once, silk-smooth and steaming, sliding along her ankles, her calves, and her thighs. She exhaled as it rose higher, enveloping her sore muscles, easing the tender ache between her legs.
How divine it felt to sink into that heated embrace after everything they had done. Her body was sore in every possible place—her thighs, her hips, her lower lips—and all she wanted was to soak until her fingers wrinkled and her mind went blissfully blank, to lean back against her Erevos and let him hold her there.
Her Erevos. Who was now her husband.
Perhaps not in the traditional human way, without temple leaders or vows or witnesses, but husband through and through.
Erevos moved through the inky water toward her, the dark liquid parting around his powerful body as though eager toplease him. The pond was not deep—it reached just below her breasts—and she was grateful that she was tall enough not to feel swallowed by it.
She looked up at him and smiled, the steam dampening her lashes.
At once, Erevos returned his own version of a smile, the baring of sharp teeth that once terrified her.
Now she found it adorable and very much kissable.
He gathered a pool of the inky water into his hands, the liquid seeming thicker in his palms, and slowly poured it over her shoulder. The heat cascaded down her skin, sliding over her collarbone, between her breasts, and she could not help the soft sound that escaped her.
“What is that?” he asked as he gathered more water and let it spill over her other shoulder.
“What is what?” she murmured, eyes half-lidded as the warmth soaked deeper into her muscles.
“That sound,” he clarified. “You made it when we mated.”
Another thing she liked so much about Erevos was his curiosity, the way he studied her as though she were the most fascinating creature in existence, worthy of observation and understanding. It felt selfish to enjoy that attention so thoroughly, to bask in it as though it were sunlight, but she could not help herself. Besides, she enjoyed teaching him what she knew, even when her knowledge was laughably small compared to the vast, ancient one he had.
In her village, Lyssena had never been allowed to correct anyone. Certainly not to teach someone older than herself.
When her father misspoke, she swallowed the correction. When her brothers misbehaved, she had endured it in silence because a man knew better, because a woman’s place was beneath and behind.
Standing there now, naked in a demon’s bathing chamber, explaining pleasure to a being older than realms, she realized how absurd it all was.
It had been a towering pile of boar shit.
“It is called a moan,” she said, taking his hand into hers, their fingers tangling as warmth swirled around them. “It is a sound of pleasure. Sometimes the body makes it when the feeling is too much to contain.”
“I have never moaned,” Erevos replied, studying their joined hands. “Yet I have felt pleasure.”
She smiled. “You do not make many noises at all,” she teased. “Oh, but you growl.”
Humans hummed and clicked their tongues, screamed and wailed, laughed loudly, and wept louder still. They were creatures of sound and expression.
Erevos, on the other hand, spoke . . . and he growled.
“I never growled before meeting you,” he said.
