“How was your day?” I ask, taking the bouquet and burying my nose in the petals. They smell like summer.
“I met a new client,” he says. “The mission starts in two days.”
Two days. My stomach sinks, but I don’t let it show on my face.
He senses that something is wrong, though, and scrutinizes me with his silver gaze.
“What happened?”
“It’s nothing,” I say. “It doesn’t matter.”
I set the roses on the counter and close the distance between us. I have to tilt my head back to look at him. Seven feet of polished steel, wings folded against his back, beautiful and impossible.
“You’re home,” I whisper. “I missed you.”
I kiss him. The steel where his mouth should be is warm. He’s heated himself for me. Castien wraps his arms around me, and I cling to him and wrap my legs around his waist. He lifts me easily, his hands supporting me, and I cover his face in kisses. His jaw, his cheekbones, the place where his nose would be if he had one. He holds me close, and I feel the heat radiating from him in waves.
I reach for my wine glass on the counter and take a sip.
“What I really do regret,” I say, “is that you can’t taste this delicious wine.”
“I could taste it,” he says. “If you licked me.”
I blink.
“If I what?”
I laugh, but heat pools low in my belly.
His tone drops lower.
“Lick my face, Jessa. I want to taste the wine on your tongue.”
I shudder. My panties are already wet, and I need to set the glass down before I drop it.
I lean in and lick a trail from his jaw to his temple.
He growls, deep and primal. The sound vibrates through me. I know he’s hard for me. I know the steel plate over his groin is pressing against an erection he can’t control. I know we’ll be in the bedroom in minutes.
“Two days,” I murmur. “And then you’re leaving me?”
“Don’t joke about that. I’m not leaving you.”
I pout.
“Then let’s make the best of it. Take me to our bedroom.”
Castien starts walking. I hold on to him, arms around his neck, legs locked around his waist. His hands support my ass, fingers splayed wide. The heat from his body seeps into mine as I sigh and rest my head on his shoulder.
I really shouldn’t care what that stupid article says. If I remember well, the journalist was ogling Castien all throughthe interview. She kept staring at his wings. She asked him questions instead of me, even though I was the one being profiled. She’s just jealous. She probably wants a plaything of her own, and that’s why she called him one.
It’s actually sad when someone can’t tell a relationship is genuine and two souls are bound by love.
As my steel seraph deposits me on the bed and buries his head between my legs, I realize how lucky I am and how little I care about the world and the people outside of our bubble. He’s everything to me. And if the traps and challenges would’ve beaten me instead of me beating them, I would’ve still gotten him. And he would’ve been enough.
Epilogue
Castien
