“So, the whole I can do anything? What if I want to…?” I smoothed my thumb along him, and my stomach hollowed at the feel of him. “What if I wanted to kiss you?” I ran my finger back up, smoothing it over the curved head. His breath was a song. “Here.”

“Fuck,” he repeated.

“Does that fall under anything?”

His chest rose and fell heavily. “That would be the first thing under anything.

“The first thing?”

“And the last. The second thing would be that nightgown and you wearing it whenever you like.”

Laughing again, I stretched up and kissed him, enjoying the playfulness, the closeness that I had never really felt before when I was intimate with another. Maybe because this wasn’t about stealing a few minutes of pleasure that stole thoughts. It wasn’t even about my duty. This was about him and me. It was just about us, and it was…fun.

His hands skimmed my waist as I eased my hand under the band on his pants. I felt him shudder as my fingers brushed his cool, hard skin. Breathing in his groan, I curled my hand around him and trembled as I moved it along his length. His hips lifted under me, and I broke off the kiss, a twist of pleasure curling deep in my core as those ultra-bright eyes locked with mine. He didn’t blink, not once, as I moved my hand over him. I didn’t want to either, enthralled by the tension settling around his mouth, in his jaw, and how the wisps of eather whipped through his eyes. Pulse pounding, I worked my way down once more, trailing a hand over his chest and stomach, where the shadows had thickened under his skin, creating a fascinating marbled effect.

I reached his pants and tugged on the band. Ash lifted his hips enough for me to pull them down over his thighs. Only then did I look away and look at him. A tumbling sensation swept through my chest and my stomach in a sharp, enticing way. The skin was darker, and he seemed even thicker, harder under my palm as I drew my hand to the tip of the glistening head and then back down his entire length.

He was beautiful.

Strands of my hair fell over my shoulder and against my cheeks as I lowered my head. I kissed him, just below the ridge, and his hips jerked. I pressed short, quick kisses along his length and then licked at his skin, my breath quickening to match his. The tips of his fingers brushed my cheek as my lips coasted over that apparently sensitive spot. I lifted my gaze as he caught my curls, brushing them back from my face. I didn’t think he breathed. Our gazes locked, and I felt the corners of my lips curl up as I closed my mouth over the head of his cock.

Ash’s entire body reacted. His hips lifted, back bowed, and one leg curled as I drew him into my mouth. “Fucking gods,” he growled.

I took him as far as I could, swirling my tongue over his skin, letting my hand reach the rest of him. His salty taste was powerful. The way he danced along my tongue was an aphrodisiac. I sucked at his skin, on his cock, a little surprised by how much I was enjoying myself. Maybe it was this moment, and maybe it was the rough, raw sounds he made. Perhaps it was the way his hand kept tightening in my hair, tugging on the strands and then relaxing. Or how he struggled to keep the thrusts of his hips short and shallow. It could’ve been the way his hand shook. Both of his hands—the one in my hair and the one on the nape of my neck. Maybe it was just him. Just me. The sudden rush of power I felt that came with the knowledge that he was the Primal of Death and I made him shake.

“Sera,” he ground out, hand firming on the back of my neck. “I’m not…I’m not going to last.”

My skin flushed. I moved my hand faster, sucked harder, and his hand tangled in my hair again as his hips moved, pressing deeper against my palm. Against my tongue.

Ash wasn’t just lifting his hips anymore. He lifted me and pulled. “Sera, liessa…”

I grazed my teeth over that sensitive spot, and instead of trying to pull my mouth from him again, he pressed down, his entire body arching under me. I felt his cock jerk against my palm as he drew a leg up again. He stiffened. The deep, throaty groan scorched my skin when he let go, throbbing and pulsing.

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.