Page 118 of Mantle

“Something fun, rather than prophetic and all intense.”

I smiled. “Yes, absolutely. You’ve got it.”

Silence fell again and I heard more sniffling.

I clenched my fists down at my sides to prevent myself from going to him when he hadn’t called for it. I couldn’t. I wouldn’t.

And then I started as he spoke again—softly, barely audible.

“Halo?”

“What can I do, cutie pie?”

“I can still feel them on me… crawling on my skin… touching me. I can’t… I can’t shake it… alone. Would you… can you… be with me?”

“Yes, of course.”

I stripped myself with a flare of my silver magic, leaving my clothes in a heap on the floor, and then I was easing the curtain aside and stepping into the shower.

There Nyx was not even soaped up yet, standing with his back to the shower water, his arms wrapped around himself as water drenched his hair and skin. I could see the stains of tears down his face despite the shower water trying to shield it.

His eyes roamed over me and he sucked in a breath, grimacing as the natural arousing reaction he’d normally easily have toward me or one of the guys being naked in his space didn’t come this time.

He unwrapped one of his arms from his body and reached out a trembling hand to me.

I took it loosely in mine and he eased me forward toward him.

“Don’t look away,” I told him.

He swallowed hard and gave a nod, then I eased my hand from his and pressed both to his chest over his pecs.

He hissed.

“No,” he said, when I went to pull away. “Please don’t go.”

“I’m not going to go, no matter what. Even if you’ve changed your mind. Especially not because of that.”

Emotion welled in his eyes. “I love you. I love you so much.”

“I love you, too.”

He slid his hand into my hair and leaned in, brushing his lips over mine. “Touch me,” he whispered. “Please.”

I cupped his face and he groaned, then grasped my hip for support to center himself to the moment.

Holding his gaze, I brushed my thumbs over his cheeks, then trailed my fingers along his shoulder blades, down to his pecs, gliding along his biceps, before skimming down lightly over his abs.

Another groan came from him and as I reached around and stroked his hair with one hand, then his back with the other, he sank into me, his chin on my shoulder as pleasurable, needy moans spilled from him.

I felt him hard against my thigh and a tremble of need rolled through his body.

I looked to see his beautiful horns glowing.

“Yeah,” he breathed. “Ariana.” My name spilled from his lips like a broken prayer.

And then he grasped both my hips and pushed me up against the tiled wall, the shower water spraying over my face and body in a refreshing and warm encompassing way, before he was then crowding me.

He lifted my thigh, angling it to his hip.

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