I stared at this tiny human, full of curves and sharp angles somehow together, this amazing woman who challenged me and pushed back, going toe to toe with me whenever she damn well pleased. Who was clearly wounded even though she tried to hide it behind the walls of her heart, who yearned for connection and safety although she couldn’t admit it. Who was a survivor, a warrior in her own way.
I surged forward, kissing her. She gasped in surprise, and I took that moment to slip my tongue inside her mouth. This was not a gentle kiss, as before. This was desperate, greedy, passionate, and wild. I couldn’t go another minute without her mouth against mine.
Those moments with her hands on my wings were pure torture, and I could take it no longer. I had spent the last half hour with a cockstand so hard I could hammer nails, gripping my knees with whitened knuckles so I didn’t grab her before she was done. When her arousal bloomed around us, I’d gnashed my teeth against the instinct to touch her. I needed this woman more than I needed air, more than wind, more than a fucking way back to Aerie.
She was my godsdamned mate, and I accepted that. I still didn’t know how to tell her, but I knew I couldn’t lie to myself. The way my hands fisted her hair and her fingernails dug into my shoulders as she moaned my name into my mouth told me so.
“Lily, Lily,” I gasped, my heart pounding louder than thunder. “Skies and stars, Lily, how I need you. You can’t imagine all the images running through my head right now—all the different ways I’d have you. The secret places I’d touch you.”
She panted as I dragged my lips across her cheeks, along her jaw, down her neck. I nipped at the pulse there, then drew my tongue across her collar bone.
“Yes,” Lilith cried, her head thrown back to grant me better access. “Castiel, oh, Castiel?—!”
One of my hands left her hair, brushing a path down her chest to cup one of those perfect breasts. I squeezed gently, wishing I could rip her dress off her. I tugged at her neckline, planting a kiss above the beginning cleavage. “Lilith, you are beautiful. I’ve never known such beauty before.”
She froze in my grasp, turning to ice.
I stroked her hair, kissed her pulse again.
Lilith pushed my hands away, jerking backward so fast she nearly toppled off the bed.
I grabbed her wrist, halting her tumble in time. “Lilith, what’s wrong?”
Her eyes were wide, but not with desire. “What did you say?” Although her pulse still pounded, her body was hard. She crossed her arms, eyeing me suspiciously.
“You are beautiful,” I repeated, my brows furrowed.
Her eyes shuttered, blocking off the glimpse of panic hidden behind them. And I knew I’d said the worst thing.
“I think I should go home.” She turned and made to get off the bed.
“Wait!” I grasped her wrist again, gentle, with my fingers uncurled to show I wouldn’t keep her against her will. “Cirra, please. Why can I not call you beautiful?”
She paused, watching me. I felt like I was being weighed on a scale, but I wasn’t sure what I was being weighed against. I held my breath.
“Please, Lily.” I released her hand, letting it drop into her lap. “I only want to bring you pleasure and joy.” Open to me.
She took a deep breath and gave a tiny, sharp nod. She didn’t trust this vulnerability, but she was prepared to give it a try.
Pride welled up in my chest. My brave, brave Lily. I would not let her down, not when it caused her such trepidation to speak her mind.
“I am so tired of people commenting on my body, as if it is available for public consumption! I did not ask to be beautiful. I do not want to be beautiful.” Her lower lip trembled as her voice broke. She paused, fighting for composure.
I waited, knowing I had to give her the space she needed to speak this through.
Lilith took a breath and tried again. “You said I let people touch me too often.”
I nodded, suddenly regretting how impatient I’d been with her. I hadn’t known what she’d lived with, who she’d lived among. I hadn’t realized she didn’t know that wasn’t normal—at least, wasn’t normal compared to my experiences. “I shouldn’t have said that.”
She brushed my words aside, focused on putting words to her feelings. “I don’t want you to want me because I’m beautiful.” Her eyes lifted to mine, and the stark need in them ravaged me. “I want you to want me because you like me. All of me.”
My heart wrenched, the ayim pulsing through my body at the realization my mate was in distress. I hated this. My hands tightened to fists, and I fought to release them so she didn’t get the wrong impression.
“Cirra,” I said, voice rough with pain and desire—desire for her to be seen and loved. “I do see you. I do like you for who you are, not what you look like.”
She held her breath, watching me warily, as if afraid to trust the words coming from my mouth.
“You are beautiful to me, Lilith. In every way. I do not look at you and wish to possess your beauty, to bottle it up and make it mine alone. No, my cirra, your beauty possesses me. Enthralls me. Your heart, your spirit, your strength—the beauty of your soul has enraptured me, and I never wish to be free from you.”
