Page 100 of Legacy of Chaos

She swam over with a grin. “Hey.”

“Hey.”

He had no idea why he suddenly felt so awkward, like a newly transitioned male talking to his first female.

“Come on in,” she said. “Water’s nice.”

“Of course, it is. I keep it at body temperature.”

She rolled her eyes. “Come on, Mr. Literal. Get in.”

He’d never been in the pool. Once a year or so, he’d dip his feet in to see if his feelings about swimming had changed.

Nope. They never did.

So, he didn’t expect anything different when he stepped into the slightly cool water. And, sure enough, by the time he was in the pool to his waist, his skin was crawling, and he was wondering what the hell he was doing. Then Cyan swam over, her gaze locked on his. When she stood in front of him, her wet skin glistening under the light of the moon overhead, she was a goddess, and he couldn’t move.

“Hi,” she said, her lips wet and curved into an adorable, kissable smile.

“Hi,” he said lamely.

So. Fucking. Lamely. He really was that post-transitioned dork all over again.

She moved closer. Slowly. Seductively. Her fingers teased the water playfully as she came within inches.

“Wanna get wet?” she purred, reaching out to trail one finger down his sternum to his navel. He reached for her, but she fell back into the water with a splash and a laugh. “Come get me,” she called out.

She didn’t look away as she started a lazy backstroke toward the deep end, her breasts breaching the water, her hips sinking just beneath the surface. So tantalizing.

With a growl, he dove in after her, some predatory instinct awakened, demanding he catch her. No, not awakened. His inner predator had always hunted, but it had focused on making demons pay for their evil. On bringing down powerful people who fucked with him. He’d used his power, wealth, and killer instinct to bring entire countries to their bony knees.

But now…now, all he wanted was to bring one female to her knees. Preferably in front of him, with her mouth warming his cock.

And then it wouldn’t be long before he would be on his knees before her, using his mouth and tongue to make her scream his name.

Laughing, she swam harder, squirming out of his reach every time he nearly had her. She was a natural in the water, unlike him, who had only learned to swim to keep from drowning.

But where she was agile and fast, he was relentless. He stalked her around the pool, slowly wearing her down.

“You know I’m going to catch you.”

“I’m going toletyou catch me.”

He stopped in chest-deep water, confused. “Then why are you dragging it out?”

She rolled her eyes. “It’s called foreplay, Stryke.”

Foreplay. Obviously, he knew what that was. He’d just never engaged in it. Not ever.

Waste. Of. Time.

“Come on,” she said, crooking her finger at him from the shallow end of the pool. “I’m right here.”

“You’re just going to swim away. I know your game.”

“Yes,” she said. “The game is called foreplay.”

“And how long must we play it?”