Page 83 of Between Fear and Favor

Rain’s mouth dropped open, eyes wide and wild, as he knelt outside the bath. “You were so still. I thought, gods, I thought—” he broke off, a sigh of relief falling from his lips. His head dipped low, eyes no longer meeting mine.

“I’m all right,” I said, voice quiet. “I’m sorry for scaring you.”

As his gaze lifted to mine, I allowed myself a moment to take him in. He’d let his beard grow, and it gave him such a dignified appearance. The wrinkles at the corners of his eyes were deeper as he frowned, and the scar on his brow was stark in the dim light of encroaching dawn. Without any candlelight, I could only imagine what he thought he’d walked into. He’d changed his clothing, wearing a simple white shirt with a few buttons left undone at his throat and plain trousers. Rain smelled fresh—of petrichor and warm skin—and I wondered when he’d had the chance to bathe. Under my inspection, his lips kicked up at the corner the slightest bit, and his plush mouth begged to be kissed.

Gods, he was beautiful.

Suddenly overcome by a need so great I didn’t know what to do with myself, I pitched forward and pressed my lips to his.

He’d nearly died. We’dbothnearly died.

There was no space between us in this moment for me to air my grievances about why things had gone the way they had. And truthfully, there was nothing to take issue with. Each decision had led us here. We had survived, and that vicious future of ash and destruction remained held at bay for the moment. None of the rest mattered—not now.

Despite my abrupt movement, Rain met my intent with ease. Soft lips parted at my touch as his hand lifted to the back of my neck. And that was all I needed for every muscle in my body to loosen in anticipation.

“I’m sorry,” I said, panting against his mouth. Apologizing for everything I’d brought upon him in this life, emotion welled in my throat. He was so good, and I was so undeserving.

“Don’t,” he responded, pressing ardent kisses to my chin, to my jaw, to my cheeks. “Not now, dear heart. Not ever.”

And then his hands were on my waist, pulling me to stand. I shivered, the water sluicing from my body having cooled as I’d stewed in my thoughts, and the bathing chamber wasn’t warm. Rain’s lips dragged a trail from my neck down to my shoulder, then slid across my collarbone. He paid special attention to my tattoo while his large hands squeezed and stroked. Sliding across wet flesh, he grabbed and soothed and claimed.

My own touch roamed, and I grew desperate. I needed him closer. I needed his warm skin on mine. I needed to be pinned and caressed and reassured that we had survived. The threat was gone, for however briefly, and we were alive.

We’re alive. We’re alive. We’re alive.

Despite my guilt for having brought this strife down upon him, despite my desire to sink beneath the water’s surface and forget everything, I needed him. My twin flame, the source of every good thing in my life.

Rain palmed my backside, pulling my body flush against his and causing me to stumble as I stepped out of the bath. Gripping me tightly, his fingertips pressed into my flesh as he lifted, and I wrapped my legs around him.

“We’re alive,” I breathed as I bent forward to press a kiss to his neck.

“Because of you,” he replied, as he carried me into our room. He tripped over my discarded clothing, laughing as he dropped me on the bed. Caging me with his arms, that crooked smile graced his face, though it was more subtle than I preferred. “Because of your bravery and strength, Em. That’s the only reason.”

Unbidden, relief caused me to exhale with such force I coughed.

Rain hovered over me, and his face screwed up into a frown. “What was that?”

“It’s just a cough from all the smoke,” I explained, running my fingers over his back.

“It wasn’t just a cough.”

“I thought you’d be angry with me,” I relented, knowing there was no use hiding it. Pulling my wet hair out from beneath me, I averted my eyes.

“I would have tempered my anger if there had been any cause for it,” he said, fingertip turning my chin to meet his glassy gaze. “I think you mistake my fear for something more malicious. I’m scared, Em. So fucking scared.”

“Me too,” I whispered. His vulnerability made me regret my irritation with him. The last thing I wanted was to examine my feelings on the matter. Fervently, I pulled at his clothing, needing him to be as physically bared as I was.

He ignored my silent request, as he dragged his lips down my damp skin. Soon, his buttons were out of reach, and I huffed in frustration. Trailing affection down my neck to my chest, he playfully nipped at my breast. My back arched into the touch, the golden string between us anchored to my ribs, and his reverent caresses tugged me closer to him.

“Take off your clothes,” I demanded, and he only chuckled. His warm breath coaxed my nipple to peak, and I tugged at his shoulders as he hovered over me. Whispered endearments peppered my stomach—moving lower. As he drew closer to my waiting heat, I grew agitated. “I don’t think so,” I said, covering myself with my hand, and he snorted in disbelief.

“It has already been decided, dear heart. This belongs to me, does it not?” he asked, cupping his own palm over mine. I squeezed my thighs tightly together. Unrelenting pressure ground against my hand, forcing my own fingertips to part my flesh and slide over slickened skin.

“And this sensitive little clit?” he asked, pressing my own finger down on the swollen bud, rolling it beneath our touch. A moan slipped past my lips, despite my resolute desire to make him bend to me for once.

“I think,” I began, struggling to speak, “that my bravery and strength have earned me your obedience.”

His hand stilled for an instant before he slowly withdrew his touch. I felt it before I saw it, but I understood a moment too late. Our silly farce of push and pull had been a distraction for him, and my reminder had ruined it.

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