I looked down at our joined hands, his fingers warm and strong against mine. "So what do we do?"
"Right now?" He tugged gently, pulling me toward him. "Right now, we take advantage of the fact that we're alive and alone and there's an actual bed in this safe house."
Heat bloomed in my cheeks, spreading down my neck and across my chest. "Your wound…"
"Is healing," he finished for me. "And there are plenty of things we can do that won't strain it."
The invitation in his eyes was unmistakable, sending a thrill through me that had nothing to do with prophecies or danger and everything to do with the man before me. Slowly, I rose from my chair and moved to sit beside him on the couch, our thighs touching.
"You're sure about this?" I asked, giving him one last chance to back away from the line we were about to cross.
In answer, Zane leaned forward and captured my lips with his, the kiss deeper and more deliberate than our desperate exchange in the woods. His hand came up to cup the back of my neck, fingers tangling in my hair as he pulled me closer.
I melted into him, careful of his injury but hungry for his touch. The blue markings on my skin began to pulse, not with the frantic energy of battle but with a slow, steady rhythm that matched the beating of my heart.
"Bedroom," I gasped when we finally broke for air. "Now."
Zane's eyes darkened with desire as he stood, pulling me up with him. "Yes, ma'am."
We stumbled toward the bedroom, hands roaming, lips barely parting as we navigated the short distance. By the time wereached the bed, my shirt was halfway unbuttoned, and Zane's remaining clothes were in similar disarray.
He sat on the edge of the mattress, pulling me between his legs. His hands slid under my shirt, warm against my skin as they traced the curve of my waist, the dip of my spine. I shivered at his touch, my body responding with an eagerness that surprised even me.
"You're beautiful," his eyes following the path of the blue markings that now decorated much of my upper body. "All of you."
Instead of making me self-conscious, his words filled me with a strange confidence. I finished unbuttoning my shirt and let it fall to the floor, standing before him in just my bra and jeans. The markings glowed softly in the dim room, casting blue shadows across our skin.
Zane's breath caught, his eyes drinking in the sight of me. Slowly he leaned forward to press his lips to the markings on my stomach, tracing their path upward with gentle kisses. I gasped at the sensation, my hands finding his shoulders for support.
"Your turn," I managed when he pulled back, tugging at the remains of his torn shirt.
He complied, carefully removing the ruined garment to reveal the bandage on his side and the rest of his torso, lean and muscled from centuries of demon hunting. Scars marked his copper skin, telling stories of battles won and lost, of a life lived on the edge of danger.
I traced one particularly vicious-looking scar that ran across his collarbone. "Does it hurt?"
"Not anymore," he caught my hand, pressing a kiss to my palm. "Nothing hurts when you're touching me."
The words sent a shiver through me, desire pooling low in my belly. I leaned down to kiss him again, more demanding this time, my tongue sliding against his as his hands found the claspof my bra. With practiced ease, he undid it, letting the garment join my shirt on the floor.
"Lie back," I instructed, gently pushing him down onto the mattress. "Let me do the work."
Zane complied, his eyes never leaving mine as I climbed onto the bed, straddling his hips carefully to avoid his injury. The position brought our bodies flush together, the friction delicious even through our remaining clothes.
"Winter," he breathed my name like a prayer, his hands sliding up my thighs to my waist, then higher to cup my breasts. His thumbs brushed over my nipples, drawing a moan from my lips.
I rocked against him, feeling his arousal through the fabric of our jeans. The blue markings on my skin pulsed brighter, responding to my increasing desire. Zane watched, fascinated, as they spread further across my body, following the path of my pleasure.
I ignored the protest my knee gave.
"I want to see all of you," his voice rough with need.
I stood to remove my jeans and underwear, suddenly shy despite the heat between us. Zane's eyes darkened as he took in my naked form, the blue markings now covering much of my body in intricate patterns.
"Your turn," I repeated, nodding toward his remaining clothes.
With some difficulty due to his wound, Zane managed to shed his jeans and boxers, revealing himself fully to my gaze. He was beautiful, all lean muscle and smooth skin, his arousal evident and impressive.
I rejoined him on the bed, this time settling beside him rather than on top, mindful of his injury. Our bodies pressed together, skin to skin, the contact sending sparks of pleasurethrough me. Zane's hand found my hip, pulling me closer as his mouth sought mine in a kiss that left me breathless.
