Archangel's Resurrection (Guild Hunter #15)(44)

“Zani.” A rough caress against her temple as he pulled her mouth from his throat and claimed it with his own once more.

You’d think that after all eternity, she would’ve had enough of his kiss, he enough of hers.

But no.

It would never be enough.

The wanting had never been the problem between them.

She sank into the kiss, into him. And when he broke it to kiss the tops of her breasts while he used one big hand to caress each in turn, her wings fluttered restlessly. She might’ve felt akin to a trapped bird were they not so well matched. Because they were, she could surrender to the pleasure that was a stretching awake of nerves long asleep.

Shuddering when he took her nipple into his mouth, she said, “It hurts.”

He stopped at once, looked up. “Zani?”

“It has been an eternity since I’ve felt such sensation.” She swallowed, pressed her fingers to his lips. “Yet the need eats me alive.” She stole a kiss, another. “Be with me. The rest can wait.” She hungered for the sense of completion that came with holding his body in her own, in feeling him move in that most intimate of ways.

Cupping the side of her face, he pressed his forehead to hers. “I have missed you.”

Her eyes threatened to tear up. She refused to let them. Refused to be so vulnerable all over again. Instead, she kissed him until he did as she’d asked and put her down so he could rid himself of the rest of his clothing. Then he was picking her up again, and she was sliding down onto him, this dance of theirs long perfected.

Yet still it wrenched a gasp from her, that moment of connection.

There was a sense of inevitability to it, a sense of rightness.

Unable to look too hard at that when they’d never got the rest of their relationship right, no matter how many times they tried, she wrapped him up in her arms as he wrapped her up in his, their wings entangling. The pleasure that awaited at the end of the dance, this wasn’t about that. This was about . . . being. Just being.

Tears threatened again.

Burying her face against him, she let the hot beads of pain fall, mingle with the sweat between their bodies, the steam on their skin. Until at last, she became water and her entire self came apart in gleaming droplets that fell to the floor and shattered.





23


Zanaya sat in the huge circular bath with her back to Alexander’s chest, her wings spread out so they wouldn’t be pressed awkwardly against him. Even this position should’ve been awkward, but somehow, it never was. He sat with his legs on either side of her own, his hands busy in her hair as he sleeked it with the glorious-smelling soap he’d poured from a small earthenware jar.

A sudden stab in her heart, an icy fear engendered by this moment of care, of affection.

“Do you think we’re trapped, Alexander?” she murmured. “Bound to repeat patterns of mistakes?”

“No, of course not.”

Such a blunt answer. Such an Alexander answer. “So you believe immortality makes us wiser?”

“Not all of us. Some are imbeciles no matter how long they live. Case in point: Aegaeon.”

She laughed, the joy unexpected. “Do you remember Rinri? He was far too honest and stalwart a being to ever be called an imbecile, but can you imagine him as a wise elder?”

He groaned at her mention of the angel who’d been in her training group when she first joined a martial squadron. “I have nothing against Rinri. He wasn’t the least bit evil. He was also excellent brawn and loyal to his cause. But if that man had any thoughts unrelated to weapons, fighting, or carnality, I will eat my own foot with that atrocity of a sauce you once created.”

Shoulders shaking, she fell back against him, relaxing fully at last. “It wasn’t that bad.”

“Zani, it tasted of charcoal with a hint of basil.”

She snorted laughter at the scarily accurate description. “Do you know what happened to Rinri?” He might not have been the most scintillating conversationalist, but he’d also never intentionally harmed anyone aside from in battle. Not many could make that claim.

When Alexander went quiet, she knew. “Rinri is dead.” Sadness spread through her for the amiable battle-obsessed boy she’d once known. “How?”

“He had a good life,” Alexander told her as he picked up a pitcher full of cool clean water. “He fathered seventeen children.”

Zanaya’s mouth dropped open. “What?!”

Alexander tapped her shoulder to let her know he was about to pour the water over her head and she closed both eyes and mouth until he was done washing the soap out of her hair.

Afterward, he pulled her back against him. “I’ll tell you about Rinri’s feats of fertility if you lie here and let me work this cream into your hair that Lemei keeps telling me will make mine soft and glowing. I’ve pointed it out to her on multiple occasions that I am a general and an archangel. I do not need for my hair to be that of a pampered courtier’s.”

Her smile spread again. “Of course Lemei is part of your court. She probably gave her notice to her previous employer the instant you woke.” The vampire adored Alexander and Osiris in a warmly maternal way.

“She had retired in my absence,” Alexander said, which told Zanaya that Osiris, too, must’ve gone into Sleep at some point in the past—else Lemei would’ve stayed on with him.