Burning Dawn (Angels of the Dark #3)(68)
Author: Gena Showalter

“Yes, oh, yes.”

“Can’t allow that.” He reached between their bodies and thumbed her center.

The heat ruptured, becoming a thousand starbursts inside her, and she threw back her head with a satisfied cry. As her body shuddered, her thighs clenched his waist, probably bruising him, and only when the blazes at last diminished, allowing her to breathe and still, did she ease up and sag against him.

He remained rock-hard inside her.

“Not done yet.” He pulled out of her long enough to turn her, placing her on her hands and knees before him. She was ready for it. He was clearly desperate for it. He pushed back inside her, filling her up, those barbells hitting her in new places and revving her back up in an instant.

She looked over her shoulder, her gaze drawn to him. Suddenly she was struck by the undeniable beauty he radiated. His head was thrown back. His eyes were closed, and his lips parted. He was lost in her, in the pleasure they were creating together.

Her heart swelled with bliss.

His breathing was heavy as he took what he wanted—and gave her the same. Sating them both with the raw, visceral desire he could no longer control. It was what he’d feared, but exactly what she’d needed most.

“Yes!” she shouted. “More, please, more.”

He thrust harder, and faster, and she exulted in every point of contact. It was…it was… Her thoughts derailed as she shattered all over again, clenching around him.

This time, he followed her, roaring as he thrust a final time.

He collapsed on top of her. As weak as she currently was, she lost her balance and fell into the floor. But just before contact, he pulled from her and rolled, taking the brunt of the impact. He cradled her in his arms, giving them both a moment to breathe.

When her heartbeat finally calmed, he cleaned her, picked her up, and carried her to bed. She wanted to bask in the afterglow with him, and talk—probably to the point of annoyance. She couldn’t summon the energy.

Though she’d never thought to be happy again, she was. And the man she’d once thought was nothing more than bang-and-bail material was responsible.

Miracles really did happen.

* * *

ALMOST TEN CENTURIES’ worth of habits completely broken?

It should be impossible, Thane thought. But then, he hadn’t known what he’d been missing. Ecstasy without the horror of guilt.

It was wonderful.

It was terrible.

The entire course of his life had just shifted, and he wasn’t sure how to proceed.

Perhaps Elin sensed the change in his mood. From satisfied to uncertain. She roused from her relaxed state, mumbling, “When did you get the piercings? And why did you get them? Seems so unlike you.”

Hoping to distract him? “About fifty years ago. I did it for the pain, which was very like me at one time.” He paused. “Can you feel them inside you?”

“Yes,” she admitted shyly, pushing damp hair from her brow.

“Did you like them?”

Her gaze briefly met his. “So much it scares me.”

Perhaps he was not alone in this. Perhaps she was just as confused.

He locked his hands behind his head. His palms were still burning. At first, he’d thought the heat came directly from Elin. And most of it had. Even though she was a halfling with latent immortal abilities, her temperature would always rise with her arousal. The more stimulated she was, the hotter she would become.

Terrible of him, but he liked that she’d given him something she hadn’t given the husband.

But the heat had also come from him, he realized now, shocked to see the soft, azure glow her skin possessed. His essentia had finally sprung free.

The chemical seeped from the pores of Sent Ones, allowing them to mark their territory and warn other predators away. Like dogs. Seemed appropriate.

Some Sent Ones produced it from birth. Some developed it after reaching immortality. Others required a life-changing event to trigger its release. He must be among the latter, because Elin had certainly changed his life, and this was the first time he’d ever seen evidence of it.

He’d thought he would have a choice in the matter, when finally the day came, but this had happened unbidden. Yes, he was thrilled to have branded Elin. She was his. But he was also uneasy. The timing was off. They hadn’t settled their future. She hadn’t promised to stay, was still determined to leave him.

“You tensed,” she said, the uncertainty in her tone making his chest ache.

Ache? Him?

Who was he?

She gulped. “Regrets already?” she asked, hesitant.

He couldn’t give her the truth. Because, in a way, he did regret. She was it for him. His one. His only. What they’d done had strengthened the bond between them. And yet, still he could lose her.

“What of you?” he croaked. “Do you have regrets?”

Silence greeted him.

Silence filled with a growing sense of inner torment.

“You just answered my question with another question,” she said. “I may be a few peas short of a casserole, but I’m smart enough to know what that means. You do regret. You just don’t have the balls to say it.”

“Elin—”

“I think…I think I’m going to my room now. No, don’t try to stop me.” She gave a bitter laugh. “Or were you going to tell me to hurry?”

He’d offended her, offended her badly, and hated himself for it. “You don’t understand.”

“Sure I do.” She lumbered to her feet, wobbled as she dressed. She looked down at him, and whatever she saw upset her further, because she sniffled, as though fighting tears. “Let’s just take a breather from each other, okay, and in a few days we’ll decide where we want to go from here.”

He reached for her, frantic to draw her back into the fold of his arms, but she sidestepped him. Footsteps sounded, and then he was alone in the bathroom.

He scrubbed a hand down his face, remembering the day, not so long ago, when he’d left the Harpy in bed. She had wanted comfort from him, and he had paid her instead. Left her. Made her feel this way?

He was utterly unworthy of affection.

Of course Elin regretted what they’d done.

He should return her to her world. She could live the life she planned.

He closed his eyes, shook his head. Elin had done more than shift the course of his life. She’d changed him, and it was no longer pain he was addicted to, but pleasure. Not just the best sex of his life, but her. Her very presence. He wouldn’t be able to survive without her.