Page 95 of Peacemaker

Chapter Thirty-One

The Reveal

Rhys was no longer Rhys…not really.

“Don’t look at my body,” he said. “Not yet.”

He took off his clothes, and even as I stood, pitiful and shaking, my fingers too numb to take off my own clothes, he pulled them off me.

“The clothes will burn you,” he said, as I kept my gaze averted from his form.

The tall pole lights competed with the moon to shine the brightest upon his body, to tempt me to catch a glimpse of him, but I wouldn’t risk it.

“Trinity,” he whispered. “It will be beyond anything you’ve ever felt. Don’t be afraid.”

I tried to laugh, but it came out as a weak sob. Don’t be afraid? “Fuck you,” I said. “I’m going to be terrified.”

He threw his head back, and no matter what else was going on, he had his joy. It was time. His time.

After an eternity of restraint, it was time.

It was a night of change. For everyone.

He slammed his body against mine, and his hands at my back kept me from falling. He slanted his head and took my lips, and I wrapped my arms around his body, even as I began to burn from the extreme heat of him.

Then, everything changed.

His heat became ice. His breath became smoke. His muscles bunched, his voice rumbled deep inside his chest, and even as his fingers tightened painfully on my arms, the pain became something more.

The night lit up with an ancient magic, a primal power, an unspeakable knowledge. I felt pavement beneath my bare back, and then he was on top of me.

He had no time to ready me, but it didn’t matter. He was right.

I was ready.

So ready.

And in that instant of acceptance, he became everything to me.

I slid my hand down his body and wrapped my fingers around the stiff, iron-hard heat of him, and as I squeezed, he released something that wasn’t a cry, wasn’t a scream, but was something in between.

Release.

Freedom was so close.

He was no longer burning me.

He was just turning me on.

It didn’t come slowly, either. Lust roared over me and suddenly I was engulfed in it, like fire, like an unimaginable fire.

Maybe I’d be ashamed later, but right then there was no battle. There were no dying humans or supernaturals.

There was only Rhys Graver.

And whatever he was becoming.

He buried his mouth against my breast and plunged into me, and at first, it was like being impaled by something large, hot, and alien. Something not meant to be inside a person. But the sensation of it changed almost instantly into pleasure so extreme I wasn’t sure if it was better than the pain or not.