Page 33 of A Song of Saints and Swans
Finishing her task, Anthia reclined on the bed before spreading her legs—determined to bring me to my knees.
As if I wasn’t already there the moment we met.
She hadn’t yet given me permission to approach, so I simply stood before the bed in absolute agony. My cock was still wet with her saliva, and my gaze kept flitting between her amused expression and her dripping cunt as my vines writhed beneath my skin.
“Please,” I whispered, almost evaporating into flames.
Her expression softened. “You’re such a good boy, Jarilo. Now show me what a god can do.”
With a groan, I released my vines, dropping my head back in ecstasy as they exploded to the surface. Anthia gasped, snapping my attention back to her face as I immediately stopped them from advancing—centimeters away from reaching her.
“It’s okay, Jar,” she breathed, offering me a small smile. “They just surprised me, that’s all.”
I smiled at her in return, even though it was pained, and my heart was breaking. “We don’t have to—”
“No!” Anthia interrupted. “I mean, yes. Iwantto do this, Jar… withyou.Because I trust you.”
Actualtearspricked my eyelids, which certainly had never happened before.
I am so gone for this woman.
The only being I’d cared about to this extent before was my sister, and as Rena was incredibly powerful, I never felt the need to protect her. With Anthia, I not only wanted to shield her from any future pain, but erase everything that had ever hurt her in the past.
You can start by helping her now.
Clearing my throat, I took a tentative step closer to the bed. “Can I… touch you,Anhel?”
She scooted back, clearly making room for me to join her. “Yes, please. But why do you call me angel?”
I smiled as I climbed onto the bed and began kissing my way up her leg, starting with her toes. “It might have been the white feathers that first inspired it, but since then, it’s become more about how you seem divinely created.”
Created for me.
Ending at her hip bone, I retreated, intent on giving her other leg the same attention. “I find it hard to believe you’re nothing but a common shifter, so I decided you must be an angel instead.”
She simply nodded, quietly watching me with those gorgeous eyes of hers, so I took that as my cue to keep talking. “We don’t have angels in Slavic mythology, you know. But the Christians created these heavenly messengers—possibly inspired by our Gamayun and Alkonost—to pass along the inarguable word of their one, untouchable god. They also kicked the rest of us minor gods off our pagan pedestals by turning us into saints. I believe the one inspired by me is St. George.”
“The one who rescued the princess from the dragon?” Anthia laughed, hooking her legs behind my thighs to pull me closer.
Lowering my head, I delivered a gentle kiss, sighing at the exquisite softness of her lips.
An absolute goner.
She gazed up at me, her tone turned serious, her breath caressing my lips. “Are you going to slay my dragons, Jar?”
I replied with every ounce of sincerity in my soul, “I hope so.”
Even if it’s the last thing I do.
Anthia’s gaze drifted to where my vines had obediently retracted into sprouts. “Does it bother you?” she asked. “That they stripped you of your powers like that?”
I froze. “What do you mean?”
“The Christians.” She shrugged, oblivious to how close she’d come to my plight. “That they essentially stopped people from worshipping you?”
“Worshipis a strong word,” I replied, trying my best to focus on the conversation instead of how badly I wanted to worship her body with mine. “Sure, some of the older gods expect fealty, but for those like Marena and me, it’s more of a symbiotic relationship. As I’m the god of springtime and vegetation, they need me for the success of their crops…”
I trailed off and sat up—suddenly panicking that I might not have enough power left to fulfill my godly duties.
