Burning Dawn (Angels of the Dark #3)(42)
Author: Gena Showalter

She gave no reaction.

End this. He poured warm liquid over her stomach, washing away the suds.

“All done,” he rasped.

“Thank you,” she replied, her tone somewhat automated.

It was clear her memories still plagued her. Despite his own poor condition, he couldn’t leave her like this.

Massaging her shoulders, he asked gently, “Why do you hate blood, kulta?” in an effort to purge the past.

Quiet, hesitant, she said, “The Phoenix burst into my parents’ home on my twentieth birthday. My husband and I were there for a celebration dinner. It was just the four of us. Momma grabbed me and threw me under the table, and I was such a coward I stayed there while Daddy and Bay… They jumped to their feet to protect their women. The warriors decapitated Daddy and stabbed Bay. His body fell over the table, and his blood, it rained all over me. I screamed so much I permanently damaged my vocal cords.”

Her words painted a truly horrific image. Thane squeezed his eyes shut in an effort to blank his mind. His heart clenched. He ached for the girl she’d been. So young. So vulnerable.

So tragic.

“You aren’t a coward, kulta.”

“I am,” she said, dropping a fist into the water. “Today, when I saw Ardeo and Orson, I hid beside Axel rather than attack.”

“And you were wise to do so, not cowardly. You are a human without training. You—”

“Have training,” she interjected. “I’ve just never had the courage to apply it.”

A human learning to defend herself against other humans was hardly training for defending herself against the beings populating his world. “Would you hide if Ardeo and Orson burst into this bathroom?”

“No. I’d attack!”

“Then you are already a changed person. You learned from your mistakes.”

“That’s…right.” The knots in Elin’s muscles smoothed out, and she relaxed against him—while he grew tenser by the second.

He could have roared with triumph. He’d helped her.

And maybe that was why, despite the horror of their conversation, his shaft remained as hard as a steel pipe, throbbing, urging him to arch into her at last and stroke against her cleft.

“Thank you, Thane,” she said, trembling.

“Welcome.” Did she sense the direction of his thoughts? Or had she finally realized she had a fully aroused male at her back?

“So…how did you find me?”

He wouldn’t mention his search for her. The way he’d torn the club apart, more desperate to see her by the second. Or that Chanel had said Bellorie took her shopping and he had been airborne mere seconds later.

Along the way, Axel had spoken inside his mind. Your human won’t stop screaming. What would you like me to do with her?

Protect her. I’m almost there. Thane had quickened his pace.

“Axel summoned me,” he finally said. “Sent Ones can communicate telepathically.”

“Oh. That’s cool,” she said, shifting restlessly in the water, as if beseeching him…for more.

You’re misreading. He gritted his teeth.

Then she moved again…and again, seeming to deliberately stoke his desire. Soon, she was rubbing against him.

Thane flattened his big hand on her stomach to stop her. Instead, he spread his fingers, covering as much ground as possible, and encouraged her to move faster. He’d fought for control. He’d failed.

She arched into his touch. “Thane.”

The neediness in her tone…

He stroked his pinkie at the apex of her thighs, edging ever closer to her sweet spot, letting pulse after pulse of sizzling desire leave him and seep into her. She moaned.

“Neither one of us is thinking clearly right now,” he said. “Now is the time to stop.”

Her head rolled against his shoulder as she released another moan. “I don’t want to stop.” She paused. “Do you?”

“I don’t just crave you, kulta—I’m literally starved for you.” He pushed himself against her so she would have no cause to doubt his words. “I would rather die than stop.”

She shivered, the water rippling. “Will you use whips and chains on me?” She reached up and behind, threading her fingers through his hair.

“No.” Never. “All I need is you.” He licked the shell of her ear.

“But—”

“No buts.” He pinched her chin and forced her head to angle toward his. Her eyes were at half-mast, her lips already parted and ready for his possession. Triumph surged through him. “When we’re together, it will be you and me. No one else. Nothing else. Agree.”

“Thane—”

“Agree, kulta.”

A torturous pause. Then, “I agree. For now.”

For now was good enough.

Leaning down, he pressed his mouth against hers. She opened immediately, as if she couldn’t help herself, and he took full advantage, thrusting his tongue against hers. He demanded. He consumed. He devoured. Never had a female intoxicated him more.

He would give her everything. Do everything with her, things he’d never done with another. He would touch and taste every inch of her, then let her touch and taste every inch of him.

They would never be the same.

His water-slick hands moved to her beautiful br**sts and cupped, kneaded. The water had fever-flushed her skin. Or maybe the intense heat radiating from him had done it. His palms burned so hotly he feared he would scorch her, but as he rolled her ni**les between his fingers, she moaned and arched her hips, her arousal unfettered.

“Can’t get enough of you, kulta, and I think, perhaps, you can’t get enough of me, either.” He kissed and licked a path down her neck. “Am I right?”

“Yes.” She tilted her head to give him better access. As he sucked on her hammering pulse, she dug her nails into his scalp. “The things you make me feel. It’s like poetry.”

Such beautiful praise… Pressure built, driving him to rub against her with more force. He hissed at the rightness of the sensation. “Tell me what you need.” His voice was nothing more than a growl. “I will do it. Will do anything.”

“You. Your fingers.”

His greedy gaze tracked a path down the center of her stomach, and his hands soon followed. He’d been with hundreds of women. He’d bitten, scratched and whipped, but he’d never touched one the way he was about to touch Elin. He’d always used external devices.

“Open for me.”