Page 40 of Chaos and Crowns

“The building already existed, but I’m the reason it’s here.” Antony gestured around vaguely. “Our ability to use the Light was fading, and all I could think about was that the survivors needed a place to be safe. This is what I came up with.”

Odelle’s head swam at the thought of how much power the creation of a pocket dimension would take, and how that incredible force was contained in the lithe body in front of her, shoulders hunched like he carried the weight of the world. She pressed her hand to her forehead to focus on the issue at hand—that somehow Antony found his incredible feat to be a failure.

“Antony,” Odelle soothed, thumb drawing circles on his bare knee. “That means that everybody that is here survived because of you. The Eteria continues to fight the Shadow, to hold it at bay, because of what you did.”

“But if I had been able to join the fight. My friends, the Commander…” Antony argued, even as he finally glanced up to meet her eyes again.

“You can’t do everything. Nobody can,” Odelle insisted even as she thought that Antony could probably do more than almost anybody else. “That doesn’t mean the things you can do aren’t important.”

The despair in Antony’s eyes seemed more distant and he put his hand on top of Odelle’s where it rested on his leg. Still, he hesitated.

“That doesn’t change the fact that I’m not a Warrior who can protect you when the Shadow attacks.”

“True. You’re a Smith who protects me in his own way. Besides, I’ve dated plenty of jocks, and I like that you see the world differently. You see the world for what it could be, not just a series of battles and enemies to beat to a pulp.”

At this, Antony’s lips finally quirked up into a shadow of the soft smile that was quickly becoming Odelle’s favorite sight.

“I guess it’s not so different from what drew me to you then,” Antony admitted, lacing his fingers with her own and leaning in closer. “You have a fighting spirit, but your weapon of choice is the truth. There’s something beautiful about the fact that you’ve committed your life to giving people the information they need. That they deserve.”

Odelle had never heard somebody describe her career in such terms, but Antony had drawn very close as he spoke, and she decided the time for talking was coming to a close. Their mouths had better things to do.

They lost the thread of the conversation as their lips met again, and she didn’t know or care who initiated this time. Antony shifted his weight forward, moving off his knees to hover over her instead, and Odelle reveled in the way his chest pressed against hers, even through the blankets.

When Antony pulled back once more, he looked thoroughly debauched, hair in his eyes, lips red and glistening, and a crimson blush staining his cheeks that spread down his chest. Here she thought that he had thought her beneath him, but it turned out that she held the power—the power to make him look utterly undone.

She could kiss him forever to put that glazed look in his eyes, but they had wasted too much time on their insecurities already. She wasn’t a patient woman to begin with, and she wasn’t about to deny herself the thing she had tried to keep from imagining for so long.

Odelle pushed the purple fabric off Antony’s shoulders and leaned in to nip at his collarbone, reveling in the way his pale skin turned pink where her mouth had been. His breath hitched and he laced his fingers into her hair, and although his grasp was gentle, his hold was firm enough to keep her from moving farther down his chest.

Odelle looked up at him through hooded eyes, simultaneously annoyed and concerned that he had stopped her. Even as he met her gaze, it seemed that the dreamy soft cast in his expression was slipping, looking more wrecked and desperate by the second. His expression sent warmth skittering down Odelle’s body.

“It has been…a very long time,” Antony admitted between uneven breaths. “If you keep doing that, I’m not going to want to stop.”

“Then it’s a good thing I don’t want to stop either,” Odelle murmured, running her fingers up his spine even as Antony’s hand in her hair held her gaze firmly on him.

The groan that tore from Antony was unlike any sound she had heard from him in the past. His gentle, playful manner dissolved into something far more desperate but just as appealing.

“If you really feel that way, we aren’t leaving this bed until you’re pink and warm from head to toe,” Antony warned, the rasp in his voice sending shivers down Odelle’s spine.

He was good to his word, mapping her skin with his lips from the hollow behind her ear, to the valley between her breasts, to the inside of her thighs. All the while, Odelle drew him back for periodic kisses, pushing his clothes down his shoulders to expose more pale skin gliding over wiry muscles, like a statue hewn from marble.

Finally, Antony threw her thighs over his shoulders and covered her center with his mouth. Odelle was glad that her prosthetic legs were off, or she surely would have bruised him with a metal foot with how hard she convulsed at the feeling. Antony pressed an arm across her abdomen to hold her in place, putting her completely at the mercy of the sensations he was pulling from her. Odelle surrendered willingly.

As many incredible things as Antony had built in his life, he was now taking Odelle apart piece by piece with his fingers and his tongue. It wasn’t long until she was pawing at his shoulders, pulling him up her body, more than ready to feel him moving inside her.

Antony obliged, sliding home and pulling a high whine from the back of Odelle’s throat that she hadn’t even known she was capable of making. She tightened her abs, trying to buck up against him, but he sat back on his heels, pulling her hips into his lap. For all that Antony was wiry, he was strong as he hauled Odelle against him and drove into her.

It wasn’t long until Odelle was panting and writhing, and Antony wasn’t far behind, quickening his pace. Despite the undone look on his face, his stare remained fixed on her. She could barely keep her eyes open against the force of the sensations rocketing through her, but the gold creeping into the edge of Antony’s irises had her transfixed. Antony’s control clearly at its end, he pressed a thumb just above where they were joined, the added friction sending Odelle toppling over the edge, every muscle in her body snapping taught at once. Antony was hot on her heels. A shudder wracked his entire body, and the gold overtook his eyes, locking Odelle in his gilded gaze even as he gasped her name.

Then the Light faded from his eyes, leaving him looking down at her with a satisfied, adoring look that made her quiver all over again. All powerful sorcerer or not, Odelle wanted to make him look at her like that every day.

Coming down from her high, Odelle decided Antony was too far away and pulled him to her once more. He collapsed forward, and they tangled together, unwilling to unwind themselves even as they shifted into a more comfortable position. Joyous giggles escaped both of them, as if neither could believe this had actually happened.

“Mission accomplished,” Odelle teased, pressing a kiss to the crook of Antony’s neck where her head currently rested. “I’m no longer cold.”

She felt more than heard Antony’s chuckle in his chest, where it pressed against hers. It was true, though; he warmed her from the inside out, body and soul.

17