“And the same thought makes me harder than steel.” He tilted his hips, and it was impossible for Saga to miss the proof of just how much he liked this idea. “But do not fear it, Winterwing. Tonight is not time for such things.”
Kassandr suddenly stood, effortlessly lifting Saga into his arms. She placed a steadying hand on his chest, blinking as a low rumble from deep within vibrated her palm—the delightful purr of his beast. And to her great shock, the sound made desire pool sharply inside her.
Kassandr set her down on her feet near the bed. The emotions and sensations swirling in her body were disorienting, and Saga gripped his kaftan to keep her balance. And then his lips were coming down on hers. His mouth was hot and slick, yet his hands were tender as they cradled her hips.
Touch me,his kiss seemed to say, and she did.
As Saga’s fingers began to explore, the low, pleased sound from the back of Kassandr’s throat was the sweetest praise. A heady sense of power filled Saga.She’ddrawn that noise from him—had made his heart race with such speed. How could she get him to make that sound again?
As her fingers slid up his chest and around his shoulders, they brushed against his nape. A shudder ran through him, and Kassandr groaned, deepening the kiss. Saga had the sudden impression that Kassandr’s two sides were at war, and that his humanity was hanging by the very finest thread. And as she had back in Askaborg’s gardens, she wondered what might happen when his control snapped clean through.
“Do you like that?” she whispered. Her fingers skimmed along his nape once more, and she was rewarded with another tremor. Confidence bloomed inside her chest. “What else do you like?”
Kassandr’s grip on her hips tightened, and he buried his nose in the crook of her neck with a growl. Her head fell back, the sensations swirling inside her building with each heartbeat. “I want—”
Want. It was the only thought she could name. Pure, visceral, unrelentingwant.
“I want, too, my Winterwing,” rasped Kassandr. It was only when the backs of Saga’s legs hit the bed that she realized he’d been walking them backward all this time. “But tonight is not about what I want. Tonight,my wife,is all about you.”
“Me?” she asked, dazed. Her skin was aflame, burning through all rational thought.
“You,” he agreed. “If you wish it.”
“I wish it!”
His chuckle was like the softest caress. “First, I will unbind your hair,” he breathed, turning her toward the bed. Kassandr unwound her braid with torturous slowness. Shivers rushed all through her, and Saga wondered when the feel of his fingers in her hair had taken such an erotic turn.
“Kassandr,” she whined impatiently.
His gentle fingers untangled the last of her braid, and Kassandrswept the spill of golden hair over one shoulder. Saga heaved for breath as his fingers found the buttons at the back of her dressing gown.
“And now I will remove this…impractical garment.”
“Impractical,” she echoed.
“Terribly,” he agreed. Yet despite his jovial nature, she could sense him struggling with the buttons.
“You can rip it,” she whispered.
His fingers stilled.
“Rip it, Kassandr,” she urged. “I can’t take another minute—”
Saga gasped at the sharp tear of fabric, and the sudden rush of cool air along her back. Kassandr’s breath sent goosebumps across her nape. With agonizingly slow speed, he slid first one shoulder of the gown off, then the other. The garment fell to the floor in a puddle of embroidered silk, and Kassandr’s breathing ceased altogether.
“May I look at you?” he managed at long last.
Slowly, Saga turned and met Kassandr’s gaze. The feral intensity in his eyes was startling to see, and he was silent for so long, she shifted uneasily.
“You are perfect. A goddess among women.”
Saga clasped her fingers before her, and Kassandr’s gaze grew yet sharper. “You know that, do you not?”
“It’s only—”
“What.”
“I’m not used to hearing such things.”
