Grace and Glory (The Harbinger #3) - Jennifer L. Armentrout Page 0,93

heat of his mouth following as I traced the lines of his chest and stomach, reveling in the feel of him. His mouth was wicked, dragging breathy sounds from me, lingering on my breasts, and then he was moving lower, below my navel and even lower still. When his mouth closed over that sensitive part, he devoured me, and I was left mindless and throbbing from those drugging kisses.

This time, there was a brief pause for protection. We weren’t going to keep testing fate there. Then he was settling over me, his warmth and weight welcomed and so desperately missed.

“I love you,” I whispered against his mouth as I urged him closer with my hands and my kisses.

I moved against him and then he moved inside me. There were no more words from there. None were necessary as we fell headfirst into the desire and passion, but those weren’t the only things between us. In each kiss and touch were relief, acceptance and a need and want that went beyond the physical. And there was so much love building between us, we were happily drowning in it.

There had been no real semblance of control before that, but things got...they became frantic. I lifted my hips to meet his thrusts, and he worked both arms under me, lifting me against him. We both were like ropes stretched too far, and when we snapped, we did so together, tumbling over the edge. As tight, rolling shocks came in endless waves, I felt the stir of air against my cheek and the feel of something soft lying against my arm. My eyes fluttered.

It was Zayne’s wings.

They had come off his back and now draped over the both of us, the feathers. My gaze lifted, and I saw the stars on the ceiling, glowing as softly as Zayne’s wings.

22

Sometime later, we lay facing each other. A sheet was tucked under my arms, and he was, well, gloriously naked and completely at ease with all of that. Probably because the bedside lamp he’d turned on left all those interesting bits of his in the shadows. His hand was wrapped around mine—the one I had sliced open during the spell. I was bone-deep tired and I had no idea what time it was, but his wings were still out, one resting on his side and the other behind him, and I wanted...I wanted to touch one so badly.

But I was being an adult and operating by the no-touch-without-asking rule. Warden wings could sometimes be sensitive, and you didn’t just go around willy-nilly touching them. I imagined these must be the same, since he reacted so strongly when I did try to touch them before.

God, Zayne actually was an angel. Well, a fallen angel, to be exact. It was weird how every so often the reality seemed to smack me straight in the face.

“The wings,” I said, smothering a yawn. “That was different.”

“I didn’t know that would happen.” He started to tuck his one wing back.

“No. Don’t put them away. The wings don’t bother me. It was just something new.”

Turning my hand over, he kissed the healing cut. The glow behind his pupils was once more muted. “And it’s different.”

“Yes, but I like them.” I wiggled closer. “They’re beautiful, Zayne.”

“Thank you.” He kissed the tip of a finger. “Let me guess, you’re jealous of them?”

I grinned. “Maybe.”

His deep chuckle caused my grin to grow. “I guess I’m still getting used to them,” he said.

“It feels different than being a Warden?”

“It does. All of it does actually.” Another kiss was pressed to the next finger. “Being in my human and Warden states felt natural unless I was wounded and needed to go into a deep healing state,” he explained, referencing when they took stone form to slumber. I hadn’t seen him do that. “Keeping my wings hidden doesn’t feel natural. It makes my back feel itchy. That’s the best way I can describe it.”

“Then don’t keep them hidden when you don’t have to, especially when you’re with me.” I glanced at them, my fingers tingling. “They’re amazing. I would love to have wings and to be able to fly.”

“I’ll make sure you fly whenever you want.” He kissed my ring finger. “You want to touch them, don’t you?”

I gave him a sheepish grin as I curled my toes. “Yes. I do. Really badly.”

“Then why haven’t you?”

“I’ve been working really hard on the whole not touching without permission thing, and it’s been killing me.” I squirmed another inch closer.