A slow smile curved his mouth, and he followed my lead, disrobing. He stepped into the tub and reached for me as he sank low. I molded myself to him, my back to his front and his arms wrapped around me as he dropped kisses and whispered promises against my skin.
“I can’t believe— You could have—” He seemed unable to finish a sentence, but I understood the sentiment.
“We both could have, Hart. But we didn’t.” I nestled myself in further and ran a hand along his thigh.
“I love you.”
I found I’d never tire of hearing him say it. I tilted my neck to the side, and he chased kisses down the column.
“We’ve done so much already,” he whispered. “Maybe we don’t have to stay. Maybe Alysa and Reid and Nicholas can handle it.”
I sighed. “Fighting Rodric was just the beginning. We have so much work to do in Kavios, but we have the freedom to figure it out without the influence of goddesses or Blessed.”
He shook his head as if chastising himself for the idea. “I know.”
“We can do this every night after a long day of working toward a better Kavios.”
“At least that, I can agree with.”
The desperation of our near losses seemed to catch up with him all at once. His anxiety was tart, but I didn’t mind. I loved the connection we’d forged—loved it even more because it was somehow our own. “You didn’t seem surprised that this is ours,” I said.
He didn’t ask what I referred to. “Is it so bad that I wanted the connection to be ours? The proximity—the need to find each other that her curse forced upon us—helped in its own way, but knowing what you were hiding, knowing the feelings you buried, helped me the most in Linia. I wanted to believe you gave me that map, not a goddess.”
I agreed with him. It was part of why I’d accepted the ability to channel flame so easily. No matter what was written about Eris and her intuition, it made so much more sense that there was power in our connection, in the way we gave ourselves to each other against all odds. “What hints am I granting you now?” I leaned further into him.
He sighed into my hair. “Smoky and sweet. I know just what to do with those.” His lips pressed to the top of my head, and he reached for something outside of the tub.
“You can’t get out yet.”
His chuckle was low, probably at the desperation in my voice. I knew I’d have to get over it eventually, but at this moment, I wanted to be as near to him as possible.
“I’m not going anywhere, Chaos.” His reply sent bolts of heat straight to my core. “I just want to wash your hair. It has … maybe ash, maybe blood in it. I can’t really tell.”
He didn’t have to ask twice. His fingers massaged my scalp even as they undid my braid. He lathered them with a soap he’d found on the wall shelf. Slowly, he coaxed my head back to dip my hair beneath the heated water. He held my body in place with his knees as he drew slow, luxurious circles against me.
A moan escaped me in moments. It might have been with his first touch, or when his fingers circled my temples, releasing a lifetime’s worth of tension experienced in a single night.
“That’s it. That’s exactly what I need to hear.” He whispered soft praise as he worked my scalp, then rinsed. He washed the mess that was the throne room from me.
My body flamed under his ministrations. The heat of our connection flared to life, and it was even better than before. It was us. It was just… “Hart.”
I didn’t know what else to say. He seemed to understand my need, and, gently, he pulled me back to him so that he was flush with my back again. This time, I pressed against the evidence that the simple act of washing my hair had affected him as much as it had me.
“I need you.” I arched against him.
He didn’t require further instruction. One hand cupped my breast, the other traced the curve of my hip. His lips found my neck. My back bowed farther into his attentions. I needed him to ground me. Needed him to remind me that we’d survived. We were free.
I relished the smoky flavor of his lust as it filled my mouth, and I didn’t think I’d ever get tired of the taste. “More,” I commanded.
He skimmed his fingers deftly down my body. He circled my entrance, and my legs spread for him. “That’s right,” he whispered. “Show me where you want me.”
I whined as he toyed with me. Then the noise turned to a moan as he slipped a digit inside. He braced me against him, one arm a band around my waist, as another finger joined the first.
My hands reached for him behind me. I wanted to becloser. Wanted more. I cupped his head, his neck. My fingers slipped lower. I wanted to touch him as he touched me.
“Wait your turn, Chaos,” he whispered as he nipped my ear.
I was lost in the rhythm of him already. My moves were instinctual. I rode his hand, arched into the hold he had on me.
