Dark Champion (Flirting with Monsters #4) - Eva Chase Page 0,75

isn’t something you can control that way. Maybe the answer isn’t suppressing your anger but making sure it’s focused on the right target.”

I arched an eyebrow at him. “Trying to keep it off of you, hmm?”

This once, he didn’t rise to the bait. “No,” he said, all seriousness. “I’m trying to keep it off of you. Whatever the Highest or Tempest or anyone says, there’s nothing wrong with you. You don’t deserve the shit they’re trying to put you through, so you sure as hell shouldn’t be putting yourself through even more. You’re incredible.”

“I’ll second that motion,” Ruse called from the deck.

“Fantastic,” Snap murmured in eager agreement.

A smile stretched Thorn’s lips. “I couldn’t have expressed it more eloquently.”

In the face of that deluge of admiration—prompted by the being who’d once been my biggest critic, no less—I didn’t know what to do with myself. My mouth opened and closed and opened again only to sputter sea water back out. One thing I definitely had to keep doing: treading this damn water. No matter how distractingly tender my hellhound shifter had unexpectedly become.

Omen glanced up at our audience and then back at me, his hand lingering against my jaw. “I’m not sure just saying that is quite enough. It could be that you don’t avoid destruction by ignoring everything that’s against you—you do it by remembering everyone who’s for you. So how about instead of tossing you around, we try grounding you instead?”

I blinked at him, and a snarky response fell out before I could catch it. “That might be a little difficult considering there’s literally no solid land in sight.”

One side of Omen’s mouth quirked up. “Then it’s a good thing I had a more metaphorical ‘grounding’ in mind.” He motioned overhead. “Thorn, could you toss a net down—one that’s fixed well to the ship. And then the rest of you can toss yourselves in. Our mortal deserves a group effort.”

Was that the first time he’d ever referred to me as theirs?

I didn’t have much time to puzzle over his unexpected compliments or his intentions before the warrior had heaved a heavy length of net over the side of the boat. As Omen drew me through the cool water over to it, the others leapt in after us. No big deal for them if they left their clothes on—they could rematerialize them from the shadows dry the second they got out. Although from my glance at Snap, it appeared he’d decided to simply chuck off all garments right from the get-go.

Omen tugged my attention away from the pale gleam of Snap’s naked body with an insistent press of his fingers beneath my chin. He looped one arm through the net. “To make sure Penelope doesn’t go astray,” he said with that same crooked smile, and guided my mouth the rest of the way to his.

I felt all kinds of naked with my body coming to rest against the hellhound shifter’s in the water, our clothes plastered to our skin, his lips branding mine. The traces of sea salt that lingered on those lips gave the kiss an extra tang—and so did the knowledge that this was the first time he’d ever made a public display of his affection in front of his companions.

Ruse let out a low chuckle. Three other bodies drifted around mine, their warmth encircling me in the cool water. Omen released my mouth, keeping his head tipped close to mine. “You’re ours. We won’t let you lose yourself, Phoenix.”

Ours. The word tingled through me, too sweet for me to bother with protests about whether I belonged to anyone at all. I knew him well enough by now to be sure he didn’t mean it that way. I belonged with them, and I had no arguments about that at all.

And they were all here with me—the men I loved.

Naturally, the incubus took the initiative to move things along first. As Omen brought his mouth to the crook of my neck, Ruse leaned in to capture my lips. The shifter eased to the side to give him more room.

Thorn’s massive form had come up behind me. He circled my waist with his hands and trailed one up to cup my breast. His fingers flicked over my nipple one by one, drawing it to a stiffened peak through the wet fabric with quiver after quiver of pleasure.

Another hand, slender and lithe, traced the curve of my thigh. Snap pressed his mouth to my shoulder, with a little nip to shift my