The Raven and the Songbird

Chapter 29

Gwyn's kisses were fevered. Searing. Hungry. As if she couldn't get enough of him. And he felt the same, gasping breaths between the frantic melding of lips and tongue. The sensation of her fingers gripping at his hair as she raised her body up to straddle him had him rigid in a mere moment. When her center brushed against him she stilled, pulling away from him. He cursed himself, cursed his body for making her uncomfortable. But when his eyes found hers he could only see adoration and desire.

"Take me back to our room, Angel," she whispered as her mouth brushed over his lips again. Our room . Gods, he hardened even more when those words flowed off her tongue, even as the implication settled into his bones.

"Gwyn?" His thumbs grazed tenderly over her freckles as he searched her eyes for any trace of uncertainty.

"Take me to our room," she demanded again.

And who was he to deny her?

"Wrap your legs around me," he murmured before capturing her lips again. He rose to his feet smoothly, wings flexing to help him balance. He stalked into the house with Gwyn in his arms, not even pausing to consider the state in which they were leaving the balcony. Instead, his shadows trailed behind them like a cape as he practically ran to the bedchamber that they now shared, the heat of his desire sparking at the arousal he scented on her. Kicking the door open, he swept her into the room, their lips only parting for shallow pants along the way. Azriel squeezed at her thighs before setting her down on his mattress, the dark linens blending into the night as he lowered himself to his knees between her legs and gazed up at his warrior, his fingers working absently to remove her slippers.

"Gwyn? Are you sure?"

"Azriel." She took his jaw in her hands, her smile so gentle and loving. "Three weeks ago I was sure I was going to die, having never felt your touch in the ways I'd dreamed of sharing with you. I'm through being afraid." The Valkyrie's grin widened, dazzling and bright.

"Now show me what these beautiful hands can do."

How many times had he agonized over the things his ruined hands were capable of? How many days had he wallowed in shame and fear of the pain they had caused? And yet here he was, with the most exquisite and trusting female he'd ever known. And she wanted his mottled hands against her skin, bringing her passion and pleasure.

Now show me what these beautiful hands can do .

Azriel peeled his sweater off, taking a moment to bask in the way her teal eyes raked languidly over his bare torso. "Like what you see, Berdara?" Her fingers traced delicately over his tattoos, leaving trails of fire in their wake.

"Very much so," she rasped as he reached up to grip her hips, a rough fingertip hooking into the waistband of her leggings.

"May I?" Dark wisps curled around pin straight copper strands as the shadowsinger gazed into the eyes of the most precious thing in his life - eyes that were dark with longing and wide with wonder above cheeks the color of crushed rose petals. A sigh hissed through his teeth as she bit her lower lip and gave him a quick nod. "Tell me, Love. I need you to say it."

The answering 'yes' was nothing more than a breath, but it was all the Illyrian needed. "Lay back and lift your hips," he urged, pulling the pants down in a singular pull. Her endless pale legs shimmered like starlight in the pale glow of the moon that shone through his window, and Azriel could not wait to commit every long, decadent inch of them to memory. Gwyn had lifted herself back up, leaning back on her hands as he ran his palms up the curves of her muscled legs - feeling the warmth and power within them. Before him was a goddess, now clad only in a cream-colored sweater and lace panties in a shade of the midnight sky, and he couldn't help but stare as his throat worked on a swallow. His cock jerked in his pants, hard as steel. The shadowsinger's lips tilted up in a crooked grin before leaning down and brushing his lips over one of the pink scars across her upper thigh.