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There’s blood smeared on my inner thighs.

Beau said he could smell it—but damn it, I thought he was exaggerating.

Kian runs his finger through the blood, then higher. Brushing straight down my center. I curl forward and clutch his shoulders.

This isn’t the haze of the drink-induced lust. This is just us.

“Come on,” he murmurs, rising.

My hands stay on his shoulders, and he holds my waist. He walks me backward into the shower, adjusting the temperature so it doesn’t scald us. It’s still almost too hot, a direct contrast to the ice inside me.

Kian puts his hand under the stream, and we both watch the water pool on his palm and drip off. Then he drops his hand and leans into me, touching his lips to mine.

My heart skips again, like a damn drama queen.

I rise on my toes and push back into him, sealing our lips together. I wind my arms around his neck. He got into the shower with his pants on, but his dick stiffens against my belly. The fabric presses into my skin.

I whimper into his mouth.

“Let me show you how it should’ve gone,” he says, his lips still moving on mine.

I nod.

He takes only a moment to tear off his soaked pants, then returns to me. He lifts me and holds me, my back pressed to the wall. His hands under my ass urge me to wrap my legs around his hips. I do, feeling more like an octopus than human. I peek down at his cock, which runs up my center. He shifts his hips, rubbing the tip over my clit. My head falls back, and he continues to do it.

Pleasure bursts out in little waves through me.

He doesn’t stop until I dig my nails into his neck and crack my eyes open. He steals another kiss. His tongue strokes in my mouth, tasting me—and that even feels hot compared to the chill inside me.

And then his cock notches at my entrance, and my muscles tense.

But he doesn’t force himself in me or even flinch. He coaxes my tongue into his mouth, nips my lower lip. He brushes along my hips and sides, his fingers splayed across my skin, until I release a shuddering breath.

Only when I release the tension does he inch into me.

It hurts.

I squeeze my eyes shut, but almost immediately, his magic floods into me. Now that I know what it is, what he has, I drop my own walls around my power for a second. The way they merge is pure joy.

The cold vanishes, filling me with ecstasy instead.

I’ve never felt anything like it.

Kian thrusts into me, and my control over my magic—ingrained deep in my bones from my childhood—snaps back into place.

We both groan, and I open my eyes to find his expression wondrous. He reaches up and strokes the side of my face, pushing my wet hair away. His cock slides in and out, his hips moving slowly. Each inch he gives me feeds the sensation of fullness. And then he stops, so deep I can feel him pulse inside me.

Holy.

Shit.

Now’s not the time to think about my mother, but I can’t help but think that this is so fucking far from the agony she used to warn me about.

My muscles involuntarily clench around him, and Kian breathes out harshly. His nostrils flare.

“Fuck. When you do that, Astra, I think I may just explode right now.”

I shift my hips. “Maybe you should do something about it, then.”