His breathy laugh touched my lips. “I like that sound. A lot.”
“I liked that,” I whispered. “A lot.”
“But that, liessa, was barely a kiss.”
My blood thrummed as his hand settled around the nape of my neck. Liessa. Something beautiful and powerful… I felt like that now.
His mouth touched mine once more, and this kiss…it was nothing like the gentle touch of before. It was harder, and the feel of the tip of his tongue against the seam of my lips sent my heart racing. I opened for him, and the kiss wasn’t only deep. The flick of his tongue against mine was an exploration that tasted of honey and ice, and he kissed as if the same, almost frenzied curiosity that drove me also rode him. To know what it was like to feel wanted, desired, cherished. To just feel. I knew that was ridiculous. I didn’t think gods had that same curiosity, but the rawness of his kiss went beyond that need to know, as his hand threaded through my hair and his other flattened against my cheek. The kiss became all those things. I’d had no idea that a kiss could be like this.
Needing to feel more, I moved my hands to his shoulders. He shuddered at my touch. His skin was cool, and I didn’t know how he could feel that way when I was a sparking fire. I tugged on him, wanting him closer, only slightly concerned that I wasn’t apprehensive about that desire. A distant, still-operating part of my mind knew I should be more worried because I was feeling wonderfully impulsive and gloriously reckless.
But he was closer, and that was all I wanted to be concerned with. His large body urged mine down, and there wasn’t even a flicker of hesitation before my back met the grass. The weight of his upper body and the coolness of his bare skin bleeding through the thin slip as his chest pressed against mine was a heady, decadent shock to my senses.
The rumbling sound that came from him danced over my skin, my breasts, and then lower still. He seemed to be as affected, and that left me reeling in a dizzying way, knowing that he—a god—could react so strongly.
Hands trembling slightly, I ran my fingers through his hair and then across his skin where the tattoo stretched to the nape of his neck. He slid his hand out from my hair as mine traveled over the corded muscles lining his spine. His fingers grazed the length of my arm, from the top of my hand all the way to my shoulder and then down again. His palm glided against the side of my breast and then to my waist. A soft sound left me as my back arched, one I’d only ever heard in the shadowy areas of the garden or in the heavily curtained rooms of The Jade.
His hand stilled on my hip, his touch becoming heavier there as his mouth left mine. “Was that kiss satisfactory?”
My eyes fluttered open, colliding with his. “It will do.”
He laughed, low and throaty. “You’re hard to impress, aren’t you?”
“Not really,” I said, even though I was thoroughly impressed.
“Ouch.” His hand tightened on my hip. “Then I suppose I’ll have to change that.”
This…the teasing was unfamiliar and exciting. Like when I discovered a new passageway in the Garden District, but way, way better. I liked it. A lot. It called to something inside me, something easy and free. “I suppose you do.”
But it was me who did.
My mouth reclaimed his, and the way our lips met was fierce and demanding, igniting a riot of wild, breathless sensations inside me that I eagerly fell and spiraled into. I was wonderfully lost in them—in him. The feel of his cool lips. The touch of his tongue against mine, and that unexpected nip of his fangs. His honey taste, and his lush scent. And I knew these were the kinds of kisses I’d read about in those books. The ones I’d never experienced at The Jade when I sought to ease the restless energy in me. Because I could do this for hours and never grow tired. I knew this because I wanted more. His hand on my hip squeezed and then skidded lower. A wicked twist of anticipation curled low and deep inside me.
Ash’s hand drifted to the edge of the slip, and then the rough skin of his palm skimmed my bare leg. In that moment, I didn’t think I’d ever been gladder that I wasn’t wearing pants.
His lips moved against mine as he drew his hand up the length of my leg, under the slip. I reacted without much thought, curling my leg in a silent request for him to keep exploring. Every part of my body went taut as his palm skimmed my bare upper thigh. An ache settled in a very unmentionable place, the one his hand was only inches from.
But he stilled.
Ash ended the kiss, breathing unevenly like me, and that shook me. A god was just as affected as I was. “This will…” He swallowed, looking down between us. “Gods…”
Every part of me focused on where the tips of his fingers brushed the lower curve of my rear. I looked down, following his gaze. The loose bodice of my slip had inched down, exposing just the hardened tips of my breasts. His gaze fell to where the hem of my slip had bunched around his forearm, dragged above my hips. The contrast of our skin, even in the moonlight, was a surprisingly intimate sight. As were the shadowy areas now exposed to the balmy night air—and to him.
Trembling, I glanced up at him. His features had sharpened, becoming stark. And there was this need and hunger to his parted lips. I could see a hint of those fangs, and another shudder ran through me. I wondered if I should attempt to shield myself from his gaze—if he expected that from me. But if he did, he would be disappointed. I wanted him to look upon me like he wanted to devour me.
And I thought I might actually want to be devoured.
I could feel the heated intensity of his stare as he lifted his gaze. He lowered his head, his mouth claiming mine. His kiss was demanding, tugging on my lower lip with his sharp fangs. I yielded to him, opening. The kiss deepened, and his tongue slid over mine, his mouth capturing my breathless moan. The taste of him, his smell…all of him invaded me, my senses, burning me. An aching, pulsing need centered in my core, so close to where his hand remained on my leg. His thumb moved along the crease of my thigh, sending a throbbing pulse through me as his mouth left mine, trailing down the side of my neck. He lingered over my pulse, his tongue a hot, wet slide against the flesh. His head tilted, and I felt the sharp, unexpected drag of his fangs.
My entire body arched as his name escaped on a soft exhale, “Ash.”
Mind thick with desire, it took a moment for me to register that he’d stilled. My eyes opened. “Is…is something wrong?”
He gave a small shake of his head. “No. It’s just that I…” He kissed the spot he’d nipped at. “I have never heard my name spoken like that. It’s a strange feeling.”
I skimmed my fingers down his arms, wondering how that could even be possible. “Is it a bad feeling?”
“No. It’s not,” he said, sounding surprised by his admission. I wasn’t sure what to think of that.
But then I was completely lost again as his lips began to move once more, trailing tiny, hot kisses down the line of my throat and over my collarbone. He moved lower and lower until his chin grazed the swell of my breast. My fingers dug into the taut skin of his arms as his cool breath danced over the turgid nub of flesh.
“You know what?” he asked.
“What?” I stared at the top of his dark head, my heart pounding.
“You can call me whatever you like.”
A light laugh spilled out of me. “I’m not sure you really mean that.”
“I do.” His head shifted, and his lashes swept up. Swirling silver eyes locked onto mine. “Anything.”
I couldn’t look away. His gaze held mine as his mouth closed over my breast, drawing the sensitive skin into the recesses of his mouth. I gasped at the shock of the coldness against the heat of my flesh. Another throbbing pulse darted through me as his hair fell forward, sliding over my skin.
He eased off, leaving me breathless. He kissed the space between my breasts. “Wouldn’t want this other one to get lonely.”
I grinned as my head fell back against the damp grass. “Is that the one kind, decent bone in your body rearing its head?”
“Perhap
s.” His tongue swirled on the nipple of my other breast. He drew the tingling peak into his mouth, dragging the edge of a fang across it. Another sharp cry left me. “But,” he said, sliding his tongue over the stinging flesh, “I think it’s all the wicked, indecent bones in my body guiding my thoughtfulness.”
I bit my lip as his mouth closed over the skin there once more. The feel of him…it was quite wicked, and then his thumb moved along my inner thigh in slow, maddening circles again, coming so, so close to where a steady ache of need thrummed. I waited and waited, wondering if he would touch me. Hoping that he would. I needed him to, but that thumb, those fingers of his, drifted closer and then away, closer and then away, all while his mouth, lips, and teeth teased my breasts.
Need, wonder, and the intense fire he lit within me flooded every part of me with liquid heat. My patience, never my strong suit, failed.
I slid my hand down the corded muscles of his arm to where his hand remained on my thigh. His wandering thumb stilled, and his fingers splayed wide, grazing the dampness gathering between my thighs. My fingers ran over his.
His head lifted, and my eyes opened to find him staring down at me in a stark, hungry way that sent another wave of shivers through me. “What do you want from me, liessa?”
Something beautiful and powerful…
That’s what I wanted.
His lips parted, revealing the tips of his fangs. “Show me.”
Eyes locked with his and heart thumping, I slid his hand from my thigh to where I throbbed. My hips jerked at the cool touch against my hot, damp skin.
Radiant wisps of eather lashed through the silver of his eyes. “Show me,” he repeated, voice rough as he skimmed one finger along my center. “Show me what you like, and I will give it to you.”
I could barely breathe as I molded my hand to his. Never in my life had I done something like this. But it felt…so natural. So right. And yet so enticingly scandalous. I moved his thumb with mine, drawing those circles around the bundle of nerves. What air I managed to breathe snagged.
“Is that all?” he asked, his voice a dark, sinful drawl. He moved his thumb under mine. “Or is there more you need, liessa? More you like. Show me.”
It was as if his voice carried a compulsion, one I had to obey. But I was in complete control as I pressed one of his long fingers against my softness, into the heat and wetness. I gasped at the feel of his cool finger parting my flesh before sinking slowly into me.
Ash’s gaze left mine then, falling to where our hands were joined. His chest rose sharply as he watched me—as he watched us as we moved his finger, working it deeper and deeper. And still he watched as I lifted my hips, moving against his fingers and his hand. He didn’t look away. He didn’t even blink when I pressed in another of his fingers, piercing my flesh with it. I didn’t think he breathed. I thought maybe we both stopped as his fingers filled me, stretching my flesh until I felt a bite of discomfort followed by a ripple of acute pleasure.
“You feel…” He inhaled sharply, drawing those fingers out before tracking the rise of my hips with those churning eyes. “So warm. So soft and hot. Wet.” He shuddered, his voice thickening as he thrust his fingers while mine simply clung to his wrist. “You feel like silk and sunshine. Beautiful.” He dragged his teeth over his lower lip, and I thought… I thought his fangs seemed longer, sharper as my back arched over the grass, and I ground against his hand. Something about watching him, watching us, was shocking. It sent my stomach dipping and tumbling. Stretched my nerves until they felt as if they’d snap. “That’s it, liessa, fuck my hand.”
His words scorched my skin, burning through every part of me. My head kicked back, and my eyes fell closed. Blood pounded as my hips rocked and twisted against him. Tension built and coiled tighter and tighter.
He moved over me, chest to chest as his mouth closed over mine once more. The way he kissed was just as wild as the sensations building inside me. My other hand sank into his hair as I did just as he’d demanded with wild abandon. All I could hear was the sound of our kisses and the wet thrust of his fingers. All I could feel was him and the tight tension settling deep in my core, curling and curling. My body went as taut as a bowstring, and then everything unraveled.
His mouth caught the cry of release as pleasure unfurled in wracking spasms, lashing out and flooding pleasure into every nerve, vein, and limb. It was shocking, the waves and waves of pure feeling.
Only when my hand fell away from his wrist did he slowly ease his fingers from me, his mouth from mine. “Beautiful,” he whispered against my swollen lips, and my eyes fluttered open.
“I…” Words failed me when he lifted those two very wicked, glistening fingers. His luminous eyes held mine as he drew them into his mouth. My body arched as if his mouth sucked on my flesh, not his.
I had never seen anything so shameless in my life.
He grinned around his fingers, slowly drawing them from his mouth. “You taste like the sun.”
My heart skipped. “What…what does the sun taste like?”
That curve of his lips was wicked. “Like you.”
His mouth returned to mine. It could’ve been his words, the taste of myself on his lips, or how I could still feel his fingers inside me. It could’ve been all of those things. Whatever it was, it fueled the need to give him what he’d given me. To share that pleasure. I slipped my hand between us, finding his thick, hard length straining against the soft cloth of his breeches. Another ripple of tight pleasure radiated out through me at the feel of him. His entire body jerked, much like mine upon his first touch.
Ash made that dark, luscious sound again as he reached between us, folding his hand over mine. He pressed against my palm, shuddering. “This…this will become more than kissing and touching.”
“Will it?” I’d never heard my voice sound so velvety before. I’d never quite felt my heart beat throughout my body like it did now, as another whirl of anticipation swirled. “I want to do what you’ve done for me.”
His jaw flexed as I cupped him through his breeches. “You have no idea how badly I want that.”
“I want that, too,” I whispered in the space between our mouths.
“It’s not your palm I want wrapped around my cock right now. It’s you I want. Tight and wet and warm,” he breathed, and a deep shiver rolled through me as my grip on him firmed. He groaned. “And if you keep touching me like that, that’s what’s going to happen. I’m going to get inside you, and it won’t be my fingers you’ll be fucking.” He lowered his head again, brushing his lips over mine. “I think you know that.”
I did.
Oh, gods, I totally did.
I swallowed, my hand unsteady as I slid it down over the hard plane of his chest. A hundred thoughts swirled, a battle between impulsivity and caution, recklessness, and wisdom. We’d already gone too far. A part of him had been inside me. He knew what I tasted like. There were countless reasons for why I should heed the latter, and only a few for the former. But those were louder, more incessant.
I didn’t want this, whatever it was, to end quite yet. I didn’t want to return to reality, where I knew I would never feel this again. This abundant wildness. This connection to my body. To his. The realness. No dying hope of fulfilling my duty; of taking something like this—something beautiful and powerful—and using it to kill. No need to be anyone but myself.
So, I shut down the caution and wisdom. “I know what will happen.”
His lips curled into a smile against mine. “You’re a Princess.”
“So? You’re a god.”
Ash laughed then, the sound a thick and heavy smoke in my veins. “And you shouldn’t be debauched on the floor of a forest.”
“And what if I wasn’t a Princess?” I countered, sliding my hand away from him. “Would it be acceptable to commence with said debauching then?”
Another low laugh teased my lips as his hand grazed the curve of my thigh. “No one should be debauched on the floor of a forest. Especiall
y when they will surely feel the hot bite of regret later.”
“How do you know I would feel regret?”
“You will.” His lips touched the corner of mine.
It occurred to me then that he had to be referring to the consequence that often occurred from a good debauching. A child. I relaxed, relieved that he had the foresight to even think of such things when the thought truly hadn’t even entered my mind. A child born of a mortal and god was extremely rare, so much so that I’d never met one. “That can be prevented,” I whispered, referencing an herb I knew women could take, either before or after, that inhibited such things. “It’s a—”
“I know what it is,” he interrupted. “Surprisingly, that is not what I was talking about.”
I frowned. “Then what exactly do you think I would regret? Or do you think that I don’t know my own wants and needs?”
“You strike me as a person who knows exactly what they want and need,” he returned. “But this is not wise.”
“Then what are you doing?” I demanded, pushing lightly on his chest.
“Attempting to not commence with said debauching.” His hand slid around to my rear, where his fingers pressed into my flesh.
A throbbing pulse of awareness shuttled through me. “In…in case you’re not aware, you have an odd way of not engaging in debauchery.”
“I know,” he replied. “Probably because I don’t have much experience with everything debauching entails.”
Surprise flickered through me. I opened my mouth to ask if he meant what I thought he did—because surely, as a god, he couldn’t—but his lips found mine once more. And kisses…his kisses were very distracting. His lips moved against mine in a slow, drugging way as if he were sipping from my lips. It felt like hours, even though I knew it was only minutes. Not nearly long enough, and then those kisses slowed even more, gentling. There were no more unexpected pricks of his fangs, and with each sweep of his lips and flick of his tongue, I knew we would go no further than this.
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