Page 44 of Beast of Blood and Ash
The sound vibrated in my chest, a surrender and an invitation.
He chuckled, rough and low. “Not so tough now, are you?”
I snorted, forcing my eyes open enough to squint at him through the haze. His face was shadowed by the steam, scales gleaming in the golden glow, eyes half-lidded but sharp.
“Are you kidding? I bested you at least twice today.”
Omvar’s brows lifted. “I’m still standing, aren’t I?”
I wiggled my toes in his grip, trying not to moan as he worked a particularly stubborn knot. “Only because you’re the size of a cargo hauler. I barely dented you.”
His thumb pressed a spot that made me see stars. “You dented me,thravena,” he said, voice dropping a register. “I’ll walk with the imprint tomorrow.”
I bit my lip against a smile. It felt dangerous, letting pleasure and pride coexist, but I wanted to see how far I could push him. “Maybe next time I’ll aim higher.”
He grinned, wide and toothy. “If you aim higher, I’ll have to retaliate.”
“Promises, promises.” I couldn’t believe how easy this teasing was, how natural. How my body, so often a battlefield, felt like something worth fighting for.
He let go of one foot and picked up the other, his claws tracing idle, delicious lines over my arch. The roughness of his skin contrasted with the water-softness, a scrape edging toward tickle, but never crossing the line.
“You humans bruise like fruit,” he said. “How do you survive anything?”
I laughed, breathy, the sound echoing oddly in the steamy air. “Belligerence and coffee. Too bad this planet’s only got the first.”
He made a soft sound, halfway between a growl and a laugh. His hands slid higher, up my calves, fingers lingering at my knee. His eyes tracked the progress, watching my breath, my reaction.
The touches became less therapeutic and more exploratory, turning into tender caresses and then hungry, water-slicked kisses.
He moved closer, the heat of his body a wall behind me. I caught the scent of him and let the water support me as I leaned back, my shoulder resting against his chest—his scales smooth and just barely yielding.
The room felt even more private now, the steam pressing in like a blanket, hiding us from the world’s sharp edges.
Banishing the last shred of doubt, I reached for him.
I felt bold. Powerful. I wanted to taste him, to claim this moment, this feeling, as my own. I pulled his head down, my mouth finding his in the steam.
“I need you, Omvar. All of you.”
His mouth was fire, open and searching, his tongue tracing the seam of my lips before slipping inside. The taste of him washeat and honey, made my head spin. His hands framed my face, tilting me up, a reverence in every movement.
He seemed to hesitate for a beat. His muscle tensed under my palms, as if holding himself back. But then, giving me plenty of time to pull away, he started to let his tail crawl up my leg while we kissed again.
He moved it slowly at first, the powerful muscle gliding through the water to wrap around my calf. The scales were smooth, the pressure a strange weight. He used it to pull me closer, then to trace patterns along my spine, my hips, my inner thighs.
The sensation was alien and wrong and exactly what I needed.
My body arched into the contact, nerves shorting out from the inside. I’d spent so long fearing the power in a Drakarn’s touch, the way a tail could pin or a claw could wound. But Omvar’s tail was an extension of his care—possessive, yes, but worshipful, marking me not as prey, but as something treasured.
He pulled me gently onto his lap, the water rising to caress my stomach. I felt the tip of his tail flick and tease at the juncture of my thighs, testing, always waiting for a flinch, a command to stop.
I didn’t give him one.
His lips trailed along my jaw, down my neck, nipping just hard enough to make me gasp. His hands found my hips under the water, anchoring me, grounding me in the present. When his tongue flicked the shell of my ear, I lost the last of my composure.
I ground down, pressure and heat combining, the whole world contracting to the points where we touched. His tail cupped my ass, fingers splaying along my stomach, drawing me back against the hard, inhuman lines of his body.
A spike of anxiety lanced through me, sudden and brutal, a memory, a warning, the old terror that pleasure would always lead to pain.
