Page 37 of Betrothed

“Fawn,” he said. “My love. Do you think I, a Skullstalker, care what length your hair is?”

Fawn laughed again. Properly this time, all light and shock.

“I suppose not,” she said. She pulled at her curls, eyeing them with curiosity.

Zax caught her curls and twined them gently around his claws. “Your hair is beautiful. The way it curls brings me joy. But I would also like it long. Which do you like?”

“I don’t know,” Fawn admitted, hushed. “But I want to find out.”

She stared up at him, her eyes bright. There was something fiery in them, and for once, she did not try to hide it. She clenched her jaw, and he saw all her thorny anger play out on her face as the scent of fury rose between them.

“What is it?” he asked. “You are upset.”

“I’m just—” Fawn shook her head. “Gods. I wasted so much time being obedient. I could have lived that way my whole life, if you hadn’t…”

She trailed off. She did not want to talk about him taking her, he realized. Or maybe about her husband’s death. There was so much dangerous territory in their pasts, and Zax did not want to hurt her with it. Even though he had, and he had fooled himself into believing he had not.

“Fawn,” Zax began.

Fawn kissed him. She climbed into his lap and rubbed his horns, smoothing her thumbs over his broken horn and sending a shudder of pleasure through his beaten body.

“I want—” Fawn ducked up for another kiss before continuing. “I want to know everything I like. I want to know what it’s like to be with someone who truly cares for my pleasure.”

“You do know,” said Zax, confused.

“I don’t know enough,” Fawn said determinedly. She rubbed his soft stomach and brushed her fingers gently over the bandage on his side, then ran her hand down to cup the bulges growing under his loincloth.

“There’s so much left to find out,” Fawn declared, moving against him. “Do you think…?”

She stopped.

Zax nosed at her forehead. “Do I think what?”

“Nothing,” Fawn said. “I was going to suggest you could… you know. With both of them.”

She squeezed the bulges under his loincloth, pressing them together. Zax held them hard, fluid jolting from the tips and running down his shafts.

“We can’t,” Fawn continued, sounding disappointed. “Not here. I don’t have any… well, we would need slick, right?”

“Not with the spell,” Zax said raggedly. It was one of the many things his brothers had educated him about during their teachings. “You will stretch. There will be no pain.”

“Oh.” Fawn blinked rapidly, her cheeks delectably pink. “Gods. Okay. We should go find your brother.”

Zax nodded. “Now?”

“No, not yet.” Fawn smiled, then leaned toward the mouth of the cave to peer out at the surroundings. Satisfied, she leaned back so her full weight was resting in his lap. “You should rest.”

She rubbed him once more through his loincloth. Zax groaned, letting his head thunk back against the cave wall.

“Is this restful?” he panted.

Fawn hesitated. “Are you in pain?”

“No,” he said in a rush.

Fawn smiled again. She would know what he meant. Despite his injuries, he was not in enough pain to turn her down. Not with her intoxicating scent filling the cave and her hand rubbing at him so hungrily.

“Let me do the work,” Fawn said. For a moment, she looked shy, as she sometimes did when they did this. It made Zax wonder how much she had been herself when she mated with her old husband, or if she turned meek and quiet and let him do whatever he wished. Then he forced himself to not wonder about it, because he did not want to hurt her in his frustration.