Page 16 of A Song of Saints and Swans
Anything.
She bit her tasty bottom lip and nodded slowly, clearly needing a minute to come up with her list of demands.
Absolutely anything.
Rena began untangling herself from beneath Anthia. “All right, ‘Thia, I’m going to leave you two alone… but I’ll be right outside if you—”
Before I could intervene and tell Marena in no uncertain terms that she was out of her godsdamn mind if she thought she was leaving us, Anthia responded.
“No!” she exclaimed, digging her manicured nails into my twin’s forearm, leaving crescent moon shapes that had my dick twitching. “Please stay. I want you to stay with us.”
Absolutely fucking perfect.
A First Taste of Worship
ANTHIA
Rena tensed beneath me, but all that did was make me dig my nails in deeper.
I wasn’t uncomfortable being left alone with Jarilo—far from it—but the thought of the goddess leaving us made my anxiety skyrocket.
Even if I can’t fully articulate why yet.
If you’d told me a week ago that I’d end up sandwiched between the goddess of winter’s death and the god of springtime, I’d have laughed and gone back to reading my spicy romance books.
But here I was in my dead mother’sVardo,about to experience what two immeasurably powerful beings could do in bed.
Assuming one doesn’t bolt first.
“Please, Rena.” The raw needin my voice was slightly alarming, but all I cared about was keeping the goddess right where she was. “Tell Jarilo how to serve me.”
And then let me please you.
She hissed in a breath while her twin groaned as if he were in pain. When I glanced down, his golden gaze was locked on hers, pleading and glazed with lust.
“Please,” he echoed. “Play with us…”
A tense moment passed—both precarious and inevitable. The way I craved both gods was all-consuming, but I prayed this wouldn’t cause a rift—not just between Rena and her twin, but for our friendship as well.
I don’t want to lose any of this.
“Wicked little things, both of you,” Marena finally chuckled, and I breathed a sigh of relief.
When the goddess spoke again, her uncharacteristically authoritative tone had me instinctively straightening. “Jarilo, do you want to make our little dove feel good?”
The gorgeous god kneeling between my legs somehow melted, yet still looked ready to pounce. “Yes, dearest. I want nothing more.”
Rena didn’t acknowledge his reply, instead turning her full attention on me as she gently swept my hair off my neck. “What is your safe word, ‘Thia? And do you have any hard limits we should know about?”
My mind went blank. Kazimir was the only shifter I’d slept with since the trauma of the Facility, and after learning the wolf had my back on the battlefield, I’d simply assumed that translated to the bedroom as well.
But this is a different sort of trust, isn’t it?
“My safe word isyour majesty,”I firmly replied, noticing Jarilo flinch in recognition of a past barb. “And I can’t think of any hard limits—”
“What about my vines?” he quietly asked, his expression holding so much regret, I almost dropped to my knees along with him. “I don’t want to frighten you again.”
Recalling that day in my hotel room—when Jarilo was so badly injured he barely knew where he was, much less what his vines were doing—made my chest ache.
