Page 41 of Death Will Follow

She wasn’t angry. She was afraid.

Nova blinked, twin tears trailing down the apples of her cheeks. Callan erased them with a brush of his thumbs. When he spoke, his voice was contrite.

“But I am truly sorry I frightened you, Starlight.”

“I could never forgive myself. If something happened to you because of me—”

“Then I promise to try and be more careful in the future,” he murmured, the corners of his mouth lifting in a tentative smile.

Nova sniffed, then let out a watery laugh. Callan bent his head, pressing his lips to hers. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and tucked her against him.

“Be honest,” he said after a moment. “Were you jealous?”

“Of Mara?” She scoffed and pushed against his chest, creating some space between them. “Certainly not. You couldn’t see her clearly.”

Callan repositioned them, caging Nova in with her back against the rail and resting his hands at her waist.

“But you worried for me,” he said.

A simple statement of fact. Sliding his hands lower, he curled his fingers possessively at her hips, relishing the softness of her body through the sheer fabric of what passed for nightclothes in the Summer Court.

“I did,” she admitted, her voice barely louder than the wind tossing strands of her midnight hair across her face.

Callan’s right hand drifted lower, and he slipped a finger beneath the hem of her garment. Nova’s breath caught, and his cock stirred at the sound. Drawing on his magic, he traced a fingertip along the surface of her skin. His icy caress climb her leg, slowly, dragging the delicate material with it. Goose bumps prickled in its wake, but the heat of her cunt beckoned to him as his hand drew nearer.

Nova’s head fell back, her brows pinching together, and a soft mewl escaped her as she anticipated his touch. Callan halted his fingers. Closing his eyes, he inhaled the sweet scent of her arousal, and his cock thickened, straining against his breeches.

Opening his eyes again, his gaze locked onto hers. “You desire me even when I’ve angered you.”

Another simple truth. He moved his fingers again, faintly tracing frozen circles on her inner thigh.

Nova clenched her jaw and drew in a sharp breath through her teeth. “Yes,” she snapped.

Callan chuckled, uncertain what had her so frustrated: his glacial pace or the fact that he’d drawn the admission from her.

Bowing his head, he brought his mouth to hers and murmured against it. “I don’t need to press my fingers inside you to know you’re slick with want.” He lowered his face to her collarbone and breathed her in as he dragged his nose along her throat. “This maddening honeyed scent. I could track you clear across Aemoria by this alone.”

He lifted his head again to take in the sight of her. The fine sheen of sweat on her pearly skin. The rapid rise and fall of her chest, nipples pebbled beneath her garment despite the oppressive heat.

“Callan.” Her voice was a plea laced with command as her fingers circled his wrist, a tug urging him to touch her. To end her suffering.

“What is it, love?” He slid his hand between her legs, cupping her sex and slowly grinding the heel of his hand over her clit. “Tell me what you want.”

Nova hooked her ankle behind his leg. “I want you to taste me.”

She pulled his face close to hers and swiped her tongue along the seam of his slightly parted lips, pulling a moan from him as his prick ached.

Another bolt of brilliant purple streaked across the sky, chased by a clap of thunder that shook Callan’s chest, the hum of the coming storm heightening his senses. He lowered himself to his knees, gazing up at his mate silhouetted against the flickering sky. He desired nothing more than to bury his face between her thighs. To draw out her pleasure with his tongue until she came apart, crying out his name. But feasting on her would be a reward.

One he hadn’t yet earned.

In the months they’d been apart, Callan had nearly forgotten how much merely being close to her weakened his restraint. Nova deserved someone she could depend on. He needed to prove to her—to himself—that he could maintain control.

Callan sat back, bending one leg in front of him and curling his fingers around her ankle.

“Show me.”

Confusion flitted across her features. “Show you what?” she asked, breathless.