Page 304 of Vasmora

A deep rumble of satisfaction grated in his chest, and he brushed aside my hair, kissing the damp nape of my neck. “I told you this dress was a mistake,” he rasped.

When he pushed off me, I finally caught a glimpse of myself. The bodice peeled away from my breasts, which he’d kindly freed from the ungodsly whalebone corset that lay discarded on the ground. My soft, pink undergarments dangled from the skinny branch of a shrub below me, torn in half. And one of the wings of my dress lay beside my shoes.

I glanced around for the other, recalling both wings had been frantically torn away from my shoulders.

Zevander hooked his finger beneath my chin, lifting my gaze toward a branch a couple meters above us, where it fluttered in the breeze.

The sight of it made me chuckle. “How did that happen?”

“I don’t remember.” He stuffed himself back into his trousers, eyes fixated on my breasts. “But if you don’t put those away, I cannot guarantee that dress will remain intact for the next round.”

I bit my bottom lip and, hands behind my back, pressed my spine against the tree. “You took them out, you can put them away.”

He flashed me a womb-clenching smile while tying the laces of his trousers, then moved closer, pressing himself against me. His mouth slanting over mine stoked a whole new flock of butterflies, ones that nearly burst through my chest when he dipped his tongue to deepen the kiss, the taste of potent liquor burning across his lips.

A gentle hand caressed my breast, as he slid the bodice up my body and carefully packaged both back inside. “Such a shame to hide them, though,” he said, before spinning me around and taking hold of the laces he’d untied earlier.

I sucked in a breath, the bodice tightening around me with his pulling. “I could leave them out the rest of the evening. I’d certainly breathe easier.”

He tied it off and smoothed his hands down my curves. “That would get messy.”

“How so?” I smiled over my shoulder.

“I’d have to carve out the eyeballs of everyone who looked at them. That’s a lot of eyeballs.”

I twisted around, marveling at the way the moonlight touched his face, his scars roughening his features. So painfully attractive, an ache throbbed in my chest. “I see what you mean. Better to avoid all that violence on the night of our Bonding Ceremony.”

“Mmmm. Indeed.” His eyes shuttered as he leaned in for another kiss, his palms cupping my face in a way that felt adoring. Reverent.

“Do you think I’d kill a rabbit?” I asked against his lips.

A deep groove furrowed his brow when he pulled away. “What?”

“Do you think I’d be a good mother to a rabbit?”

His gaze flicked away and back. “As a pet?”

“As a child.”

He stood pensive for a moment, and I could only imagine the thoughts running through his head right then, before he answered with, “Yes?”

“You’re not sure, though,” I pried.

His brows pulled tighter. “I’m not entirely sure of the question.”

“Never mind.” I shook my head and pressed my palm against his chest, regretting the silly inquiry.

“No.” A firm grip cuffed my wrist, and his much bigger body corralled me tighter against the tree. “Are you asking if I think you’d make a good mother?”

“Do you?”

“Of course, but …”

“But what?”

He practically scowled. “You want children now?”

The mere thought of something growing in my stomach sent a tickle of nausea to my chest. “God, no.”