“I don’t know why you would’ve imagined something like that. Not sure what could’ve happened to cause that, though,” he said.
“Me, neither. Your wings kind of remind me of it. How the grace winks between layers of feathers. It’s like stars peeking out behind clouds.” I ran my fingers farther along his wings, toward his back. The feathers were thinner there, the muscles underneath more prominent. “My vision went back to normal after a few moments, but I’m glad I got to see it.”
“I’m happy for you—that you got to see them,” he said, his voice rougher.
I glanced back at him again, and that glow in his eyes was once again vibrant. “You’re more sensitive the closer it gets to your back, aren’t you?”
“Yes.” That one word sounded as if it had to fight its way out between clenched teeth.
The warmth in my stomach coiled tight. I rose onto my elbow so I could reach around his shoulders. The sheet slipped a little as my fingers neared the smooth skin of the anchor, and Zayne’s entire body jerked. “Interesting,” I murmured.
“Very,” he rasped, head kicking back as I ran my fingers along the muscle. “I think you’re teasing me.”
“Maybe.” I started to pull my hand back, but Zayne was as fast as he was strong. He moved before I even realized what he was doing, shifting onto his back and pulling me on top of him. Somehow he’d gotten rid of the sheet. When the bare skin of his chest made contact with mine, I shivered from the pleasure of it. “You have amazing multitasking skills.”
“I do.” A hint of arrogance hardened his tone. He curled his hand around the back of my head, drawing my mouth to his. “Just remember, you started this.”
“I’m not going to complain,” I told him.
And I didn’t.
His hunger was evident in the way he kissed me, in how his hand skimmed the side of my body, of my breast. Zayne sat up, bringing me with him. Our bodies were lined up in all sorts of fun ways. My head fell back as his lips trailed a path of kisses down my throat. His hands went to my waist and he lifted me a few inches, and his lips were moving lower still. I gasped, jerking. He held me steady as he pulled me closer to him. Reaching behind him, I slid my hand over the base of his wing.
Zayne dragged me back down, against his chest. “You’re probably going to do that as much as possible, aren’t you?”
“Probably,” I admitted.
“Good.”
Then I felt the stir of air as he folded his wings around me, and the feel of the soft strength against my back and the hard heat of his chest pressed to mine had to be an aphrodisiac all by itself. We kissed again, and the only sounds in the room were that of us coming together, moving together. It was no less intense than before. Every breath and thought left me, and there was only him, how he felt and the maddening, tightening rush.
When our bodies finally settled and our breathing calmed, we were on our sides again. This time, there was no space between us. Exhaustion dogged me now, and I imagined it did so for Zayne. Just before sleep claimed me, I felt the soft weight of one of his wings settling over me, easing me into a blissful, dreamless slumber.
* * *
A distant thumping sound that steadily seemed to grow louder and closer wasn’t what woke me. It was the loss of all the wonderful heat of Zayne’s body.
I stirred, blinking open my eyes to see Zayne making for the door. He’d already put a pair of sweats on and was in the process of pulling on a shirt. The wings were concealed and the markings along his back were nothing but a blur to me.
“What is that?” I asked as the pounding continued.
Zayne glanced over his shoulder. “Someone’s at the door.”
“Sounds like we’re about to be raided by a drug task force or something,” I muttered, pushing the hair out of my face.
He chuckled. “How would you know what that sounds like?”
“TV.”
I thought he might’ve shook his head at me. “Go back to sleep. I’ll be right back. We’re not doing anything today other than sleep.”
“Witches,” I reminded him as I rolled onto my back. “We have to go see the Crone and give her one of your feathers.”
“Later,” he replied, and before I could respond, he was slipping out of the bedroom. The banging got louder, and then quieted when he closed the door behind him.
I wondered how were we supposed to get a feather? Pluck it from his...wings? That sounded painful.
My gaze slid to the floor-to-ceiling window. I could tell by the bright sunlight seeping under the blinds that it at least had to be late morning or afternoon.