Page 50 of Hell Fae Warden
No one could really blame me for wanting to escape. But that was a discussion for later.
Right now, I wanted to make him feel better, to remove that sadness from his dark gaze, making that ring of blue fire appear around the edges of his irises again, and convince him to let himself heal.
“You don’t have to do this,” he whispered as he stared down at me.
“I do,” I told him. “But not because Az is telling me to.” I went up on my toes to brush a kiss against his plump lips. “I’m doing this for me. For you. Forus.” My palm slid to the back of his head, trapping him in case he chose to flee. “You need this. You needme.”
I wasn’t sure how I knew that, but I sensed it in the stiffness of his form, could see it in his sad gaze.
He needed a distraction. Or maybe this was more of a reminder.
A reminder that he was alive.
“Kiss me,” I requested, the words a breath against his mouth. “Apologize to me with your tongue, and I’ll consider apologizing, too.”
He groaned, his other hand grabbing my opposite hip to pull me closer. “I fucking hate both of you.”
“A lie,” Az said, sounding amused. “Good thing my Phoenix isn’t still in charge, hmm?”
Ajax made a rough noise in the back of his throat before finally claiming my mouth.
He wasn’t nearly as rough as Az, his kiss almost gentle in comparison, like he didn’t find himself worthy of this moment and wanted to ensure I felt cherished as a result. Or perhaps he truly was trying to apologize, to make me feel adored, respected,admired.
His velvet tongue seemed to be whispering more truths against mine, truths he didn’t want to admit even to himself but was willing to share with me here, so long as we agreed to keep this secret between us.
I allowed it, receiving his unspoken words and exchanging a few of my own.
I don’t really hate you.
I want you.
But I don’t want to want you either.
This is wrong, isn’t it?
Except it feels right. Why does it feel right?
He couldn’t actually hear my thoughts, nor could I hear his, but something told me we were thinking on a similar wavelength.
Because his tentative strokes grew bolder, as did my thoughts.
Why am I overthinking this?
I should just enjoy it.
Embrace it.
Fuckingownit.
Az rumbled in approval behind me, and I suspected the noise came from his Phoenix. It almost resembled a purr. He kissed the back of my neck, his hands roaming up my sides beneath my shirt and around to cup my breasts.
I arched back into him, my hips meeting Ajax’s as pleasure engulfed my being.
Their touch was hypnotic, their mouths a hazardous addiction. I hardly even noticed Az removing my tank top, Ajax’s lips only leaving mine for a second.
But I felt Ajax’s hard chest against mine, his wounds providing a texture I found more arousing than revolting.
So strange, I marveled. Apparently, I liked his pain. His blood. His harsh intake of air when the worst of his injuries brushed my unmarred skin.
