Page 139 of Revealing Fate

“I…” Kitty’s eyes dropped from his face to sweep over his body. His bare chest. His tightened abdomen. Lower. Fuck. Now he was trembling.

Tentative as the touch of a feathered wing, Kitty ran her fingertips over his skin. He watched her with a scorching fixation as she explored his body. The tension in him was torturous. But this wasn’t about him. Kal was just giving her permission. Getting her comfortable. Letting her hands venture over his lips, stubbled jaw, and bunched shoulders. Allowing her to trail a line of fire through the hair dusting his chest down to his navel. Kal tracked her movements and saw when the fascination in her gaze turned to hunger. Her hesitant curiosity became a budding confidence.

“Felíne.”

Kitty’s eyes shot to his. Kal savored the way she looked when he said her name. Her aroma intoxicated him. Her pheromones, combined with the lingering scent of the storm, woods, and his own scent rolling off her skin, made him dizzy with need.

“I want you to finish what I started,” he said.

Her hands stilled at his hips.

“You’re finding pleasure tonight,” Kal insisted, voice guttural. “If that prude hag of a Goddess won’t let me give it, you’re taking it for yourself.” He leaned forward, nose brushing the shell of her ear. “And I plan to witness the glory of it.”

Chapter 49

CROSS

FELÍNE WOKE TO THE SOFT sounds of dreamless breathing. A lone lantern flickered gently from its perch on the wall, casting lambent shadows to dance with amber light in the basement room. The steady rise and fall of a well-formed chest lifted Felíne’s left hand with each inhale. Her face was nuzzled against a shoulder, scratchy stubble tickling the tip of her nose. One muscled arm held her close, draping haphazardly over her waist. The other was attached to a hand spread possessively over her thigh—a thigh which currently rested atop a man’s hips.

The previous night came rushing back so swiftly that Felíne might have toppled out of the chaise lounge had she not been held by Kal’s unconscious form.

You’re finding pleasure tonight. And I plan to witness the glory of it.

Pleasure, she’d found. Beyond anything Felíne had known a person could feel. And witness, he had.

Felíne glanced down to where Kal’s right hand held her bent leg over his. The skin of his wrist was reddened, dried blood crusted in several spots. A thin abrasion parted the ring of flesh.

Memories resurfaced of Kal kneeling with his hands tied behind his back, his big body bowed forward as he kissed her neck, her chest, her lips. He’d worshipped her with his mouth while Felíne explored the contours of her own body for the first time. Kal had guided her. He’d whispered hot, licentious instructions in her ear, watching captivated as she followed them.

Her lessons with Imogen had been thorough. But Felíne had listened to her elder’s lectures with a sort of horrified detachment, too preoccupied by her own insecurities to delve deeper into the subject matter during quiet moments of solitude.

Last night? Kal’s unwavering confidence had bled into her, igniting a hungry, daring flame. He’d placed all the leverage into her hands by restricting his own. The way he’d looked at her made her feel beautiful. The thrall that came over him as she obeyed his direction gave her a captivating sense of power. How exhilarating that this fearsome man would bend to her desires. That her pleasure could become his undoing.

In the end, though, Felíne had been the one undone.

Utterly, totally, irreparably undone.

Her fingers had found a rhythm, her body understanding what it craved. Felíne’s breasts had mashed against Kal’s chest, their breath had mingled, hers coming in quick, stuttering gasps. She’d begun to shake. More, he’d demanded. Farther, he’d pushed. Their skin became beaded with sweat. Felíne had thrown her free hand around his neck, worried she would fracture at the pressure rolling through her. Kal had groaned.

“That’s it, Kitty girl,” his voice had rumbled. “There you are.”

And then she’d splintered.

Kal’s mouth had swallowed her cry as she sagged against him, every nerve in her body pulsing with pleasure-filled bursts. His shoulders, biceps, and forearms bulged as they strained against the silverskin binding his arms behind his back. They both stilled, kneeling awkwardly. Felíne’s body half draped over his, their skin slick, chests heaving.

“Kitty,” Kal murmured atop her head. “Please unbind me.”

Working free the silverskin cord was a hazy blur. She only remembered Kal’s arms finally gathering her close as her lids battled against blissful fatigue.

“Am I alive?” she’d mumbled.

“Oh, Felíne,” Kal had said, kissing her hair. “You’ve only just begun to live.”

She remembered wanting to touch him, to reciprocate even a fraction of the euphoria he’d just escorted her through. But Kal had only pressed his lips to her crown once more before gathering her close and lulling her into insentience.

Felíne eased away from Kal’s sleeping body and beheld him. His face was relaxed, turned partially away from her. The lines that grooved his waking brow were smooth in repose. She lifted her hand and traced her finger over the curving line of his profile. Down the center of his forehead, dipping deeply between his brows to the ridge of his nose, over the pillows of his perfect lips, and the coarse black hair on his chin. The gods spared no talent when crafting this man. Even if Felíne could never claim him, she’d keep these small moments locked within the swell of her spirit for the rest of her days.

Slowly, Kal’s eyes fluttered open. He inhaled deeply and turned to look at her. Two black pools took her measure, golden treasures rising to the surface.