“Of what?”
“You’re bound by your sacred duties—and I’m bound by mine.”
“This I must hear.”
“I’m bound to show gratitude for every second of life I’m given by enjoying it to the fullest. Why should the gods—or fate or whatever—grant you more of these precious seconds if you waste the ones they’ve already provided? It’s exactly like—are you ready for this?—GOLD. There’s only so much of it to be had. Sorceri believe The End of the Ore will come one day. But life can be shiny and savored and glorious until then.”
He raised his brows. “Shiny.”
“You squander the coins you’ve been given. In my eyes, you’re more of an offendmenter than I am.”
“How do I squander them, then?”
“Your mind is always in the past.”
He scowled. “You’re as mired in the past as I am.”
“Maybe, but I usually recall good memories. Like how much fun we used to have playing in that meadow together.”
Thronos rose to pace that limb. What was he contemplating?
She probed, but found his shields up. Fine. She turned from him, determined to enjoy Zero-G, and its upskirt rain, all by herself.
She spied a leafy branch that arched down beside a smooth trunk, heavier streams of water following it, making a shower head of sorts. She wished she could shuck off all of her clothes and finally take the shower she’d been longing for—
A bubble burst against the back of her head.
With a gasp, she whirled around—and caught another bubble against her arm.
“Thronos!”
He was using a wing to wave them over to her, because he was playing with her, having fun.
She gave a cry when another hit her chest, cool water trickling behind her breastplate. And once those delicious drops trickled down, they traveled right back up her body.
She opened her arms wide. “Give it your best shot. I’ll bet you can’t hit me”—she pointed to her navel—“here. Oh, wait, I forgot, Vrekeners don’t gamble.”
“I’ll enter into another wager with you. If I hit your target, then you have to remove your breastplate.”
He was certainly getting the hang of flirting. “And if you don’t?”
“You have to remove your breastplate.”
Her lips curled. “I think I’m going to have to teach you the finer points of wagers, demon.” For once, the word didn’t seem to bother him; of course, she’d all but purred it. “Honestly, I would love to take it off, would kill to bathe under that tree limb’s cascade.” She hiked a thumb in that direction. “But we’re back in the same boat as before. How can I be sure you won’t lose control?”
“Melanthe, you want to be na**d for me.”
This authoritative side of him was kind of hot. “Do I?” She sounded completely unsure, even to her own ears. Maybe they could just play tonight—taking the edge off their need. They didn’t have to go further.
Surely premarital sex was an offendment Thronos would never commit, no matter how worked up they got. I’ll breed no bastards.
“You told me that if I got you to safety, you would show me anything I wanted to see,” he said. “I got you to safety, and I want to see everything.”
She arched her brows. Sexy Thronos. And a promise was a promise, right?
Lanthe shouldn’t want to take off her clothes for him, but he was right; she did. She wanted him to see her and desire her. She wanted to experience his reaction as he beheld his mate for the first time.
If simply holding hands with this male had nearly brought her to the edge . . .