Laughing, she rose up to kiss him.
He cupped her face and then trailed his hands down her shoulders and over her soft skin, to her back and buttocks to press her closer to him so that he could feel her curves meld to his body. He leaned his head back as she peeled his coat off, then pulled his shirt off over his head.
Phoebe hesitated as she saw the scars that marred the perfection of Urian’s chest. She’d never seen him unclothed before. Because he’d always visited her in her room, they hadn’t dared.
But damn. While she’d known he was battle hardened, seeing it was a different story. There were fresh and healing bruises as well as scratches, all over him. Her heart wrenched at the sight. Biting her lip, she traced them with her fingertips, until she got to the Daimon mark at the center of his chest, over his heart. “Does it hurt?”
“No.”
It looked like a big bruise. One that was larger than her hand. No wonder it was so easy for a Dark-Hunter to kill them. “Do they have to pierce it in the center or just nick it anywhere?”
He tilted his head to look down at her hand. “You know, I’ve never really thought about that. Thanks, Phee, for giving me something else to worry about in a fight.”
She laughed. “Well, you do have to think about it, you know?”
“Hmmm.”
Kissing his mark, she tongued her way across his chest to his peculiar phoenix-dragon tattoo. “What’s this for?”
“My Spathi unit that I lead. The Stygian Thánati.”
“Ooo, that sounds so impressive.”
“Glad you think so.” He glanced past her to the tub. “Is it supposed to do that?”
“Do wha—” She gasped as she realized it was spilling over the edge. “Ah, crap! You distracted me!” She ran to turn the water off and grab towels to mop up the overflow.
Urian took a moment to admire the view of her bare bottom as she bent over to clean the mess. Damn, that woman had the one of the nicest asses …
Trying not to think about it, he went to help her mop up some of the water. But that was as useless as trying to resist her. The moment he was near her and his hand accidentally brushed hers, he was lost and he knew it.
But then that had happened the moment he’d first seen her, when his father had sent him in to slaughter her and her sisters.
Just like now—one second they were cleaning water off the floor, the next Urian was in the tub, naked and holding her as he fed and cradled her in his arms in the warm water. He didn’t know what it was about Phoebe, but she held magick over him.
Sighing in contentment, Urian savored the sensation of her fingers playing in his wet hair while she held him nestled between her bare thighs and breasts.
“Urian?”
Blood-drunk, he could barely recognize the sound of his own name on her lips. “Hmmm?”
“Would you let me make love to you tonight?”
Urian licked her neck as he struggled for sense and control. He wanted to deny her. They were playing a dangerous game that would blow up in both their faces. He knew it.
It wasn’t fair to either of them.
His father would kill him. But his gaze drifted over her glistening body—down her damp, golden hair that curled around her impish face. Her creamy, bare shoulders where droplets of water caught and glittered like jewels on her alabaster skin. And those breasts that begged for a lover’s touch …
He was damned and he knew it.
“Phoebe,” he breathed. “What if—”
“Shh.” She kissed him to cut off his words. “Not another word.” She raked him with a ravenous hunger in her eyes. “I promise you, I won’t change my mind.”
Maybe not, but Urian knew this was a profoundly bad idea. In every sense of the word. If he had an ounce of decency in him, he’d get up and leave.
But then, he wasn’t sure if he’d ever been noble or decent. If he had, those traits had died a long time ago.
