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His muscles were slow to relax, and I followed his body’s lead, easing off with my hand and mouth. I dropped a kiss to where the ink followed the inside of his hip and then lifted my head as I carefully pulled his pants back into place.
Ash was staring at me with those wild eyes. He didn’t speak. Not a word as he pulled on me, tugging me from where I’d settled between his legs. He drew me up the entire length of his body, and before I could even guess what he was about, his lips closed over mine and he turned, shifting us so I was under him. And this was no soft kiss. It was deep and stunning, and I knew he didn’t just taste me on his lips, he also tasted himself. The press of his lips and each sweep of his tongue was a declaration of gratitude. Of worship.
And I didn’t feel like a monster then.
Chapter 33
I slowly became aware of a fresh, citrusy scent, the soft, warm weight of the fur blanket, and the coolness pressing in at different points. Sleep clung to my thoughts as I snuggled closer to the long, hard length of the body behind mine, and the firm arm under my cheek.
Ash.
I didn’t dare move as I lay there, my senses clearing at once and focusing on the feel of him—the sensation of his flesh pressed against mine. He was wrapped tightly around me, not even an inch separating our bodies. I felt his chest rising and falling against my back with each steady breath he took. A heavy arm lay on my waist as if he sought to keep me there. That was a fanciful thought, one quickly lost in the sweet, hot feeling rippling through me. One of his thighs was tucked between mine, the soft material of his pants pressing against a very intimate part of me. My pulse picked up, as did a sense of wonder.
I had never been held like this for any length of time—not this closely, and not awake or in sleep. I knew I had fallen asleep before he had, which meant that he could’ve woken me. He could’ve carried me back into the bedchamber, or he could’ve left me outside. Instead, he’d pulled the blanket up and over me and slept beside me. Again. But he’d been kissing me until I could no longer keep my eyes open, and I’d never been kissed like that before, either. It was as if he had been unable to stop himself. Like he couldn’t go even one heartbeat without his lips upon mine. I’d never felt so wanted or needed. And that had been how he’d kissed me, as if he needed to do so. He’d kissed me like…like Ezra had looked upon Marisol when she realized that Marisol would be okay.
It felt like something had shifted in the moments before sleep claimed us. Like something was growing between us, making it more than mutual lust. There was respect, and I thought a certain understanding. He may be a Primal, but we were oddly similar in certain ways, and it connected us in a way that the deal his father had brokered didn’t.
Warmth poured into my chest, very much like it had when I used my gift but different and stronger. It was exhilarating and new and…
And it was terrifying.
Because it felt too warm, too real, and too desired. And I couldn’t want this. I may deserve those moments of living and just existing, but I didn’t deserve for those moments to last. Too much rode on me fulfilling my duty to let myself get swept up in being wanted. What I needed to do was more important than me. Than Ash.
Even if he did carry the reminder of so many lost lives on his skin.
A faint ache once again returned to the sides of my face as I lifted my lashes, my gaze falling to where his hand was fisted loosely in the blanket. I reached for him slowly, running my fingertips over the top of his hand, following the tendons and strong bones.
My fingers stilled as something moved—wiggled toward the end of the daybed, against my covered feet. I looked down, and my eyes widened. Curled into a little ball next to my feet was Jadis.
I blinked once and then twice, but the draken was still there, in her neat little ball with her wings tucked close to her body. “What in the world?” I whispered.
“She’s been there for quite some time,” a voice answered quietly.
A shock went through me. My eyes shot to the source of the voice, to the railing on the balcony. What I saw made me wonder if I was still asleep.
Barefoot and shirtless, Nektas crouched on the railing, which seemed impossible given how narrow it was. He appeared completely at ease as if he had no fear of slipping from the railing and falling to his death.
