He spun me toward the bed and let me fall. I bounced once, and his stare ravaged every inch of me as he prowled forward.
“My queen,” he growled, “I have every intention of kissing you.” He lifted my gown, kissed my knee, then pressed my foot into the mattress. “And devouring you. Tonight and tomorrow.”
My hands clenched the sheets as he shifted the garment higher, nipping my thigh.
His scruff grazed sensitive skin. “And the day after.”
My breath stuttered, body trembling, and I reached for him. He crawled up, settling between my legs. I whimpered beneath the weight of him. His mouth met mine in a kiss that depicted desperation. His tongue moved with slow intent, hips grinding to match his tempo.
A growl escaped me, and I hooked my toes in his waistband, shoving his trousers down. They caught on his backside. He chuckled against my lips.
“Easy,” he murmured, fingers fumbling with his buckle.
I arched beneath him, hands clutching his sides, eager for relief I wasn’t sure how to get. Lust poured through me, hot and demanding.
“We can be easy another night,” I gasped. I pushed his trousers off with a breathless laugh.
He caught my thigh, pinning me in place. “Slow down, Nienna,” he breathed, lids clenched and teasing gone as the fabric snagged on his boots. “We have time.”
My nails bit into his shoulders, drawing a grimace from him. His gaze snapped open with a snarl, hands tightening on my thighs. I hooked my legs around his back, hauling his hips between mine. A gasp rocked through me. Hunger, needy and insistent, burned through every nerve.
There was no slowing, no pushing desire aside. He asked that we take our time, but our bodies didn’t listen, driven to give in to the fire building between us. A flickering spark born of duty and respect now roared into a blaze, wild and consuming.
It was not drawn out, or gentle. It was a man and a woman, boundaries razed, giving in to something base and long denied. Rushed, frantic movements, private moans of pleasure—it was my first time with a man.
And I gave it to the right one.
Argos’ roar rumbled in the distance, followed by a sharp chirp from Tsunami. Sunlight spilled through the windows, drawing a warm glow across the sheets. I overslept.
Why hadn’t Freya woken me?
Then the ache between my thighs brought it all crashing back to me. My skin flushed, and a slow smile tugged my lips.
Kallias lay beside me, an arm draped over his eyes. His naked chest rose and fell with deep, steady breaths, sheets pooling low at his hips. One hand was shoved under the fabricat his lap, and a bare foot caught the morning light.
When did we take his boots off?
My gaze lingered on his arm—tanned skin stretched tight over corded veins. I tilted my head, curiosity tugging. What exactly was that hand doing under there? My smirk returned as I shifted onto my side.
Kallias lurched, diving off the bed. His grasp flew under the pillow as the sheet chased his legs—ripping it off my body.
I yelped, jerking upright as he thudded to the floor.
Then silence.
“Kallias?”
A groan answered. I crawled to the edge, dropping to my belly to peek down at him. He sprawled in a tangle of limbs and sheets, eyes squeezed shut.
“I daresay it’ll take some time adjusting to having someone in my bed,” he rasped, voice groggy with sleep.
My hair fell over my shoulder as I laughed, the long waves draping down to tease his bare skin. “Not the same as waking up with Greaves?”
He cracked an eye. “We’ve never shared a bed.” He scrubbed a hand down his face, sitting up. “I’venever shared a bed.”
Did he want to?
He held me close last night, breath soft and hot against my neck, long after need had ebbed. If he hadn’t wanted to stay, he wouldn’t have. I would’ve seen the hesitation.
