Page 147 of Lana Pecherczyk
“You can’t,” he blurted. “You’re lying.”
She pressed his hand against her heart. “I’m telling the truth.”
Emotion battled on his face and through their bond. Tenderly, she brushed her thumbs over his tear-stained cheeks.
“I love you, River. I love your sense of humor. Your energy. Your face. Your body. I love Mr. King Brown downstairs. I love your spontaneity, and I love how you adapt.” Her hand traced down his neck, circling over his chest. “I love how you don’t give a fuck what other people think. Only me. Only your closest friends. I love how you care for me, hold my hair when I’m sick.I love howyourhair changes color between blue and black.” She threaded her fingers through his locks, watching the strands catch the manabee light. “I love how sometimes they seem to have other colors in there, like turquoise and green.” A soft laugh escaped her. “Almost like they’re playing with me.”
Her gaze filled with wonder as it landed on the splendid wings sprouting through the leather jacket on his back. She sighed, trailing her hands down his strong neck, over his shoulders, along the smooth ridges of the top of his wings. He shuddered beneath her touch and released a sharp exhale. “And I love these.” Her lips curved. “They’re so beautiful. I know you don’t want anyone else to see them, but I hope you’ll always have them out when it’s just the two of us. For me.” She slid her palm over his bare, warm chest and rested it over the beating organ beneath. “But most of all, I love your heart. Maybe you made mistakes. Maybe you have regrets. But if you didn’t care, you wouldn’t be here on the floor, feeling like your world is crumbling. If you weren’t one of the good guys, you’d have burned this place to the ground. I know you feel lost right now, but I believe you’ll find a way to glue everything back together. I believe inyou, River.” She tapped his sternum. “Because of this.”
His expression crumbled, eyes brimming with fresh tears.
“If you need to cry, do it,” she whispered, hands sliding over his shoulders and finding the ridge of his wings. “Don’t hold back.”
“I don’t…”
“Then what do you need?”
“I need—” He shuddered as she stroked his wings. “I need?—”
“Yes?”
His breathing grew labored as he slid his hands around her waist. “I need you.”
“You have me.”
“No. I need you, not like before.” He glanced at the trove, fear slicing through. “Not like that. I need you … not like last night.”
“I understand. You need to see that it can be different between us, that we don’t have to push each other to the edge of obsession. We don’t need words to keep us safe. We can just love without the danger.”
Relief dropped his shoulders, wings sagging, muscles unknotting beneath her palms.
“I want you to keep touching my wings.” His shaky admission trembled through his body. “If that’s not too disgusting.”
“I told you, I love them.” She started removing his jacket, but then paused. “May I?”
His throat worked, and he nodded.
She peeled off his jacket, then his shirt, careful not to rupture his newly healed and fragile wounds. Before he could change his mind, she reached around his torso and traced the ridged spine between his wings, fingers finding the downy transition where pebbled skin became feathers.
“Yes,” he groaned out, trembling. “Like how you did that first time.”
She worked her nails beneath the feathers, raising quills until she found warm skin. “Like this?”
He nodded, drawing her hips down until her core pressed against his erection. The contact pulled a gasp from her throat.
River kneaded her breasts over her blouse until her nipples tightened against his palms. When she arched into him, whimpering for more, he lowered his mouth and suckled the sensitive nub through the fabric. Hot bolts of heat shot directly to her womb, eliciting a moan of pleasure from deep in her throat. Their arousal built in their shared breaths, in the gentle exploration of each other’s bodies.
His mouth made its way up her neck, tongue swirling against flesh until he captured her lips in a hot, slow, and deep kiss that left her dizzy and breathless.
“More,” she gasped, overcome with sensation.
Pure, male satisfaction glimmered in his eyes as he parted the pleats on her windways, fingers hunting through the volumes. Every teasing swipe of his fingers against bare skin drove her mindless until he finally found the access she craved. Three fingers swiped through her center folds, finding her slick and ready.
“Fuck, Blake,” he groaned into her mouth, and then pulled back again to watch her face as he plunged a single finger inside her tight pussy. “Now, you tell me what feels good.”
He worked her clit with his thumb.
“All of it,” she whimpered.
