look, but its beauty was tempered by a hard edge that spoke of a man who’d survived many battles. His well-defined body held a similar hardness, though he now bore scars from his more recent battles. One of them—a jagged tear that ran from the left edge of his belly button and up under his arm, slashed through the middle of the stylized black tattoo that was his Dušan, which all but dominated the left side of his torso.
“Better,” I murmured, then caught his hand and tugged him toward the vast shower.
The water came on the minute we stepped into it, and at just the right temperature. The needle-sharp jets that hit my skin both soothed and exhilarated. I closed my eyes, enjoying the sensation for several heartbeats before I turned around and stepped into Azriel’s waiting arms.
His lips met mine; warm, familiar, and oh so wonderful. We kissed, touched, explored, until there wasn’t an inch of me that didn’t burn with need.
Then he turned me so that my back was against the hard heat of his body and his erection nudged my butt. He kissed my neck, my shoulders, then reached for the soap and began washing me. The sweet scent of orange touched the air as he gently—lovingly—soaped every inch of me, and oh, it felt good .
But being caught between the heat of his body, the drum of the water, and the caress of his hands was nothing short of torturous. When I could stand it no more, I grabbed the soap from him and turned around. The water seemed to reverently caress every muscle, every scar, as it rolled down his beautiful body, and I followed its lead, soaping every marvelous inch, until he was quivering as badly as I was.
He reclaimed the soap and put it back in the holder, then twined his hands in mine, raising them above my head as he pressed me back against the wall. The heat of him flowed around me, through me, a sharp and delicious contrast to the coolness of the tiles pressed against my spine.
His gaze met mine. The blue depths gleamed with desire, and something else. Something that was raw and very human. I was his Caomh, and as vital to him as life itself, but the intensity of emotion so evident in his gaze had my breath catching in my throat and my heart dancing.
“I cannot wait,” he said softly, as he nudged my legs wider with one knee, “for the time when there is just you, and me, and the family we will create together.”
“Neither can—”
The rest of my words were lost to a moan of pleasure as he slid into me. He began to move, slowly at first, then with more urgency, and god, it was glorious. Energy flickered across our skin, gentle sparks that grew ever stronger as the music of his being began to play through me, and mine through him. It was a dance, a caress, a tease. It was movement, heat, and desire. It was an electric firestormthat grew and grew, until we were both more energy than flesh, and it both fueled the urgency and heightened desire. It was a maelstrom of sensations that assaulted every part of me, until pleasure was so fierce it was almost agony and I couldn’t think, could hardly even breathe.
Then my orgasm hit and I gasped, grabbing his shoulders, clambering up his body to wrap my legs around his waist and push him deeper still. Rapture exploded between us and shuddered through my soul. He cried out, his body stiffening against mine as he came.
For several minutes neither of us moved. He leaned his forehead against mine, his breathing harsh against my lips as the shower continued to rain hot water down on us, though its touch was cool compared to the heat still burning between us.
“That,” he said, after several minutes, “was very invigorating.”
“It certainly was.” I felt a whole lot better—and a whole lot stronger—than I had only minutes ago, and that wasn’t merely a result of great sex. I wasn’t only his Caomh, but his “recharge” partner. Reapers didn’t keep themselves alive by eating or sleeping or any of the other things humanity did.
“Better,” I murmured, then caught his hand and tugged him toward the vast shower.
The water came on the minute we stepped into it, and at just the right temperature. The needle-sharp jets that hit my skin both soothed and exhilarated. I closed my eyes, enjoying the sensation for several heartbeats before I turned around and stepped into Azriel’s waiting arms.
His lips met mine; warm, familiar, and oh so wonderful. We kissed, touched, explored, until there wasn’t an inch of me that didn’t burn with need.
Then he turned me so that my back was against the hard heat of his body and his erection nudged my butt. He kissed my neck, my shoulders, then reached for the soap and began washing me. The sweet scent of orange touched the air as he gently—lovingly—soaped every inch of me, and oh, it felt good .
But being caught between the heat of his body, the drum of the water, and the caress of his hands was nothing short of torturous. When I could stand it no more, I grabbed the soap from him and turned around. The water seemed to reverently caress every muscle, every scar, as it rolled down his beautiful body, and I followed its lead, soaping every marvelous inch, until he was quivering as badly as I was.
He reclaimed the soap and put it back in the holder, then twined his hands in mine, raising them above my head as he pressed me back against the wall. The heat of him flowed around me, through me, a sharp and delicious contrast to the coolness of the tiles pressed against my spine.
His gaze met mine. The blue depths gleamed with desire, and something else. Something that was raw and very human. I was his Caomh, and as vital to him as life itself, but the intensity of emotion so evident in his gaze had my breath catching in my throat and my heart dancing.
“I cannot wait,” he said softly, as he nudged my legs wider with one knee, “for the time when there is just you, and me, and the family we will create together.”
“Neither can—”
The rest of my words were lost to a moan of pleasure as he slid into me. He began to move, slowly at first, then with more urgency, and god, it was glorious. Energy flickered across our skin, gentle sparks that grew ever stronger as the music of his being began to play through me, and mine through him. It was a dance, a caress, a tease. It was movement, heat, and desire. It was an electric firestormthat grew and grew, until we were both more energy than flesh, and it both fueled the urgency and heightened desire. It was a maelstrom of sensations that assaulted every part of me, until pleasure was so fierce it was almost agony and I couldn’t think, could hardly even breathe.
Then my orgasm hit and I gasped, grabbing his shoulders, clambering up his body to wrap my legs around his waist and push him deeper still. Rapture exploded between us and shuddered through my soul. He cried out, his body stiffening against mine as he came.
For several minutes neither of us moved. He leaned his forehead against mine, his breathing harsh against my lips as the shower continued to rain hot water down on us, though its touch was cool compared to the heat still burning between us.
“That,” he said, after several minutes, “was very invigorating.”
“It certainly was.” I felt a whole lot better—and a whole lot stronger—than I had only minutes ago, and that wasn’t merely a result of great sex. I wasn’t only his Caomh, but his “recharge” partner. Reapers didn’t keep themselves alive by eating or sleeping or any of the other things humanity did.
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