Grace and Glory (The Harbinger #3) - Jennifer L. Armentrout Page 0,88
shirt. The edges of his hair tickled my cheeks as I nipped on his lower lip.
There was an answering rumble from deep inside his throat that curled my toes. The kiss deepened, and the air around us seemed to crackle. There was a razor-sharp, almost desperate edge to the way our mouths met, and I imagined it was hitting us right then how incredibly lucky we were that we got to experience this again. It wasn’t that what we’d done in the pool hadn’t counted. It had, and it, too, had been powerful. Those early-morning hours had been proof that Zayne had still been in there, that his love for me was still guiding his actions. This was different, though, because it was us.
We got a little lost in just...in just kissing. There were soft and achingly sweet ones. Kisses that were teasing and playful. Then there were the ones that left me aching and breathless. All of them were my favorite, because it was Zayne who I was kissing.
More than anything I wanted to lose myself in him, to forget about everything. And I think he did, too, but he lifted his head after one last drugging kiss.
“I’ve missed you,” he said, his voice as unsteady as the breaths he took.
“Same,” I whispered, dragging my fingers along his cheek. The glow behind his pupils appeared muted.
He shifted his weight onto one arm, and slowly, he lifted his hand and tucked the strands of my hair back from my face. “When we were together early Sunday morning?” He swallowed as he drew the tip of his finger along the curve of my cheek. “I...I don’t know how to feel about that.”
“What do you mean?”
“That was me and it wasn’t me. I knew what was happening. That was something that I was controlling, but I just think what if you did that because you felt like you had to? If I could go back, I wouldn’t have done that,” he admitted. “Not that I didn’t enjoy it—”
“I know. I enjoyed it.” I cupped his cheeks. “You didn’t force me. I initiated it. I knew what I was doing and I didn’t feel like I had to.”
“I know I didn’t do that, but it just doesn’t...it doesn’t sit well with me. You had no idea if the Crone would be able to help you at that point.” His finger ghosted over my lower lip. “I’d just dropped you in a pool, and earlier that night, I fought you. I threatened you, and then I was inside you. I could’ve hurt you during it. I could’ve hurt you afterward.”
“I understand why you feel this way. I do,” I said softly, and I did. Zayne was good to the core, even when he was missing a part of his soul, and even now, when he was a Fallen and technically had no soul. It really made me question the whole soul thing and how much it played a role in people’s feelings and actions, but now wasn’t the time for that. “You didn’t hurt me, Zayne. You had control, and what we did gave me hope. I know how crazy that sounds, but it was further proof that you were still in there, and I needed that.” I lifted my head, kissing him softly. “You don’t have to like what happened. I can understand why you couldn’t. I just don’t want it to hurt you.”
He slid a hand down my arm, curling his fingers around my wrist. Pulling the hand away from his cheek, he kissed the center of my palm again. When his eyes met mine again, he let out a ragged breath and his shoulders seemed to loosen. “We didn’t use protection.”
There was a trip in my heart. “I know,” I whispered.
He kissed my palm again. “Fallen are able to reproduce with humans.”
“I know,” I repeated. “But I don’t know if I can. I started thinking about it afterward, because...well, for obvious reasons, and don’t know if any Trueborn has ever reproduced.”
“You don’t know a lot about Trueborns,” he pointed out.
“And that’s why I asked Dez to see if Gideon could find anything that would indicate either way.”
Zayne blinked. “You asked Dez to ask Gideon?”
“Who else was I supposed to ask? I don’t think Thierry or Matthew would know—and that is a conversation I so do not want to have with them—and I thought of Gideon. He knows a lot and has access to a bunch of dusty books that no one