Dark Skye (Immortals After Dark #15)(60)

When she stood before him once more, he scanned her face. Searching for some hint of her thoughts?

“Thronos, if I honestly tell you what I think of your body, will you tell me what you think of mine?” He hadn’t said anything aloud.

“Peculiar sorceress. Yes, I will.” And then he held his breath.

“You’re so big. And hard. When I look at your body . . . I get wet for it.”

His lips parted around an exhalation. Puh.



Thronos was still reeling from her words. His body aroused hers? Only fair since she made him hard as stone.

Yet then her gaze dipped to his chest. To his scars. He stood unclothed before her, and she focused on the most hated parts of his body.

She leaned forward. She kissed a scar.

His head fell back. Was this her way of apologizing? Of showing her regret? Another feather-light graze of her lips followed.

If this was the way she expressed remorse, he might be helpless not to forgive her!

“And now, what do you think of mine?” she asked against his skin.

I almost come just from looking at you. I need to lick every inch of your flesh. I want to pin you down and suckle you—for hours. “You’re exquisite,” he finally bit out, laying his palms against the tree trunk above her head. His wings closed in on her. Trapping her.

Her gaze darted from one to the other, but she didn’t say anything.

“Impossibly exquisite.” He leaned his head down to her neck, drawing deep of her scent, letting her feel his exhalations. Gods, she smelled so inconceivably right to him. He couldn’t stop himself from nuzzling her neck. It made her shiver, so he did it again. Then he ran his lips beside her ear, rasping, “I’ll likely wake to discover this isn’t real—just another dream of you.”

“What happens when you have those dreams? I’m sure you have a law against masturbation.”

He nodded, then confessed, “I wake up thrashing, thrusting at anything, already culminating.”

She released a shaky breath of her own.

“I’ve fantasized about you, about all the forbidden things I want to do to you, for hundreds of thousands of nights. And now you’re here with me,” he said, voice laden with disbelief. “If just one of my dreams would come true.”

“What would you like to happen?”

Need to be buried inside you! But . . . “Melanthe, let’s begin with a kiss.” In Inferno, he’d decided that their first real kiss would be vastly different from the frenzied taking when he’d first captured her. He could be tender.

When he curled his finger under her chin, tilting her head up, she asked, “Have you ever done this before?”

He shook his head.

“Do you remember when you taught me to swim?”

In the lake by their meadow. “I remember.” She’d been terrified at first, clinging to him, but by the end of that afternoon, she’d taken to the water like a selkie pup.

“You taught me the basics, and then instinct took over. Maybe I could teach you the basics of kissing?”

“I want that.”

“You could brush your lips against mine a couple of times, to get used to the feeling. Then when you’re ready you could slip your tongue in to find mine.”

He raised his knee beside her, boxing her in, as if he subconsciously feared she’d escape him yet again. “And then?”

“You’d slowly and sensuously lick the tip of my tongue.”

“Yes.” His swollen length shot even harder.

“Hopefully we’ll drive each other crazy. When that happens you can take my mouth deeper. Just do what feels good for you, and it’ll likely feel good for me.”

With a nod, he leaned down to graze his lips over hers and back. Again. Hers were so plump, giving. When her breaths shallowed, he slanted his mouth to deepen the kiss.

As he slowly dipped between her sweet lips, she clung to his shoulders, gripping his muscles when the tip of his tongue found hers. The contact was electric! He groaned into her mouth, wondering if he would instantaneously spend.

Considering the pressure in his shaft, this seemed probable.

Though he’d wanted to get his first release out of the way, now he realized that would be squandering the experience.

Thronos would endeavor to last—

She began licking back, with light laps of her tongue that made his head swim. Still, he kept the pace slow, lazily teasing her, as if he had all the time in the world. He was rewarded with her seductive moan.

When he grew more aggressive, she murmured against his lips, “Yes, yes.” She laid one palm on his chest, turning it until her fingers were pointed down. Inch by inch, she lowered her hand.

Between the kiss and her touch, he was awash in stimulation. Too much! His member jerked as if to meet her halfway. By the time she reached it, he would release in her palm.

Breaking from the kiss, he collected her wrists, pinning them above her head. Her eyes were glittering, her body trembling—because of him. Him.

In a breathy voice, she said, “Well. You certainly have the hang of it. But don’t you want us to touch each other?”

He bit out an anguished sound. “You have no idea.” He recalled how that Volar had used his wings to stroke the demoness. Gaze locked on Melanthe’s, Thronos began tracing his talon over her collarbone.