“You don’t care that I’m larger than you? That I could carry you without breaking a sweat?”
“Absolutely not.” He drags his hands down to my wrists, fingers encircling them like bracelets. “I love your shape. I love your curves and the muscle in your arms. I love how physically strong you are. The differences in our bodies? That is the headiest allure.”
I lick my lips nervously, and my stomach clenches as Zephyrus’ eyes lock on to the motion.
“Sit on my lap,” he says again.
I do not fight the temptation. I’m too far gone. Straddling his waist, I ease my weight against him.
He sinks his fingers into my hips, the fabric of my dress so thin it may as well not exist. “Do you trust me?”
Over the course of this journey, I have come to better understand him. I may not trust the West Wind with my heart, but there is trust enough for this: allowing him to bring my desire to life. “What will you do?”
“I will show you that exploring one’s body is not selfish. I will show you that indulging is no sin.”
As if reading the uncertainty in my expression, he rains soft kisses down to my jaw. The sensation suffuses my skin with an unbearable heat. I hold still, poised on a knife’s edge, a trembling deep in my belly.
When his mouth slants over mine, I am prepared. Eagerly, I feed the kiss, edged in these feelings I dare not name. My head tips back, and Zephyrus drinks deeply of everything I offer. He then shifts me to the side, one of his legs slotting between mine, and he holds me there,rocking his thigh against my core until the sensation takes root and I begin to move.
Oh.My eyes roll into the back of my head, and all at once, my body loosens, contouring around his hard, flexing muscle. Then, a brightness, something igniting in my core. I falter.
“Let it unfold,” Zephyrus whispers.
Whateverthisis, I can’t control it. I shift my hips harder against him, his hands securing me in place. The pleasure sharpens as it nears its peak, and though my body seeks to chase it, I am desperately afraid of what awaits me at its end. Abruptly, I go cold.
“That’s enough,” I gasp.
Immediately, Zephyrus stops.
My thighs continue to tremble, muscles locked tight. He studies me—this panting, red-faced, wide-eyed woman. “Did I hurt you?”
“No.” I shake my head. “I just… need space.”
Expression grave, he nods and loosens his hands from around my waist.
I slip off his lap. The ground is cold beneath me. For whatever reason, I want to cry. How can I miss his touch when I’m the one who demanded distance?
“Sorry.” I’ve never offered a more pitiful apology.
Zephyrus catches my hand, gives it a reassuring squeeze. “Don’t apologize. You did nothing wrong.”
Then why do I feel so inadequate?
“I thought—” A helpless sound escapes. “I thought I wanted to do…that. But—”
Despite the abrupt shift in mood, his eyes soften. “You don’t have to explain anything to me.” Reaching out, he cradles my cheek, brushes his thumb across its curve. “Rest,” he says. “I’ll watch over you.”
Curling into the grass, I lay my head on Zephyrus’ thigh. He weaves his fingers through my hair, pushing the curls away from my face. The meadow, the stars, and the West Wind—infuriating, too clever by half, yet at times unexpectedly sweet.
When my eyes close, I dream of spring.
21
MY EYES OPEN TO Adark sky. The stars have waned, and low, sinuous clouds drag their bellies across the forested canopy.
“Zephyrus?”
Pushing upright, I peer around the glen. An imprint in the grass beside me suggests someone has lain there. The West Wind, however, is nowhere in sight.
