Dain went very still, the movement of his tails sliding to a halt and the fur poofing out in slow motion. He opened his mouth, seemed to think better of whatever he was going to say, and returned to being a statue, staring at me without breathing. At last lack of oxygen got the better of him, and he inhaled sharply, his body juddering back into motion like a car with a bad transmission.

"You..." he started, and had to swallow to continue. "You would like that? Even knowing how much I long for you?"

"Wash your blood off of me," I said. "Brush my beautiful dark hair, and give me your clothing to wear to bed." I looked into his wolf eyes and smiled. "Run your hands over my body, and remember what you already know."

His eyes gleamed, wet and golden and beautiful. Dain jerked his head in a nod before stepping close to me.

I slid down off of the counter and let him gather me into his arms, resting my head against the bloody violet silk across his chest as he kissed my hair. The warmth of his hand settled onto the bare skin of my lower back, then stroked slowly upwards, leaving heat in its wake. I melted into the sensation, Dain touching me for no other reason than intimacy, putting his hands on me because we both wanted to drown in each other.

"Are you even wearing anything under this?" Dain asked, his voice rough as he unclasped the hooks at the back of my neck.

"Close your eyes and find out," I said, listening to the beat of his heart quicken with a feeling of utter contentment.

"As you desire," he answered, his voice low and full of promise.

43. The Gift of a Throne

Chapter 43

The Gift of a Throne

The pressure of the cloth vanished as he got the last clasp open, the dress slipping off of my body to fall whispering into a lavender pool around my feet. Dain kept one hand on the back of my neck, tangling his fingers in my hair as he wrapped his other arm around me, his fingers counting my ribs. I heard him move his wing-arms, and then the brush of his fingers against the back of my knee. I shuddered with pleasure, gasping out an exhale as heat and tension woke inside of me, tingling pleasure sparking between my legs.

Dain let out a quiet, panting breath, his heart pounding beneath my ear. "Do you mind it?" he asked in a hoarse whisper. "My wing-hands are more sensitive, but if the invitation was only for my other pair, I won't touch you like this."

"Don't stop," I said. I slid my fingertips up under the cloth of his clothing, finding the smooth skin and powerful muscle of his sides, feeling him inhale against me. "I love when you touch me with them."

"You do?" he asked, his strong fingers wrapping around my leg.