scrubbed at his arms to rid them of blood. Maybe too many people in this world had been bewitched by his wings rather than by him, admired them rather than the male they belonged to.
Calindria eased closer to him, water cascading over the curves of her breasts, and lightly stroked the fingers of her right hand down the edge of his wing.
He tensed. His silver gaze slid towards her.
“Do not,” he grumbled.
She ghosted her hand back up to the arch of his feathered wing and stroked it again. “Why not? You pet my hair… I cannot pet your wings?”
He stiffly shook his head, his features pinching as he angled his head towards her. “It is not the same.”
She shrugged and went to take her hand away, wanted to shake her head when he looked pained, as if she had just stolen something wonderful from him. When she brushed her hand over his wings this time, his eyes slipped shut and his face relaxed, his lips parting on a soft exhale.
“Why deny yourself something that clearly feels good?” She teased one feather in particular, a broad one that formed part of the first row of longer ones.
“Because.” His eyes flicked open and locked on hers, heat blazing in them. “I am trying to be good.”
She realised that he meant he was trying to resist her because she had told him nothing carnal would happen between them and that her stroking his wings gave him pleasure, and she was in danger of pushing him over the edge. He wanted to abide by her rules, and she was close to making him break them.
“I’m sorry.” She withdrew her hand, let him see in her eyes that she meant that and what came next. “You can kiss me if you want.”
Water surged against her chest as he swiftly lunged for her, as he claimed her mouth in a hard, possessive kiss. She shivered as he held her above the water, as the full length of his bare body pressed against her naked curves, his hard length digging into her right hip. Gods, she wanted him, had to fight to resist the need he ignited in her.
A kiss would be enough for her. For now.
She savoured it, loving how he clutched her to him, how he was in control, steering the kiss towards one that was so intense, she couldn’t think straight when he finally released her. He gazed at her, heat in his eyes. Not the heat of lust, but the heat of love.
She lifted her hands from the water and framed his face, just gazed into his eyes and savoured that look too.
He raised his hand and cupped her cheek, stared deep into her eyes as his black eyebrows furrowed. His voice was little more than a husky whisper. “I feared I was going to lose you back there. I am sorry, Calindria. I will do better. This is not easy for me.”
She knew that, could see it in his eyes and feel it in him. As much as she wanted to know what had happened to him, why he had held himself back from her and lashed out at her, she wasn’t going to push him. She was just going to enjoy this calmer feeling that flowed between them and the fact he was trying to be better for her.
She craned her neck and kissed him again, a softer one this time, poured her love into it in the hope he would feel it. He relaxed against her, slid his arm around her back again and kissed her slowly, his breath mingling with hers.
When he eased back this time, he looked lost, or perhaps dazed. She felt that way too, felt as if she was drifting in his arms, floating on more than water. He sat her up and sat back, stared at her a moment longer and then dropped his gaze to her side.
“Is it healing?” He frowned at the wound.
She nodded and inspected it, surprised by how well her injury was doing. “It does not hurt, and the wound has closed now. Apparently, I heal quickly.”
Thanatos scrubbed a hand over his face. “Gods, that is a relief.”
She wanted to tease him by asking whether it was a relief because he worried about her or worried about how her father would react if she was still injured when she reached home. She held her tongue though, focused on washing the rest of the dirt and blood from her body. Thanatos fell