Page 48 of Touch of Death
With a small sigh of relief, I drift back to sleep.
Eventually, I open my eyes to a pale light filtering into the room, only to realize I’m exhausted, sticky, and covered in sweat. The silk nightgown that had felt so luxurious when I slipped into bed now clings uncomfortably to my skin.
Frowning, I try to remember what I dreamt, but try as I might, I can’t quite seem to grasp any of the dreams that plagued my sleep.
A low half-growl draws my attention, and I am surprised to find Death sleeping next to me, his mask pulled up slightly to reveal his mouth and nose. His chest rises and falls softly as he sleeps. My heart skips a beat in my chest at the sight, a soft smile on my lips for a minute before it slowly fades in horror.
If Death is sleeping next to me, then whose arm is wrapped around my body?
Panic floods my body as I glance back to realize it’s Eros I’m nestled against. His arm is snaked around me, holding me tightly to the heat of his chest as soft breaths ruffle strands of my hair.
Carefully, I reach to pry his arm from me, but his grip is firm and unrelenting as he continues to sleep. The weight of his arm is impossible as I struggle against him, only to have him shift in his sleep and pull me flush against his body ... and it’s only now that I become fully aware of his desire for me.
My skin grows slick with sweat wherever his touches me, and I feel my body igniting involuntarily from within as the strength continues to drain from me with each passing second.
My eyes dart back to Death, my breaths coming quicker with panic. He’s sleeping deeply, unaware of my growing panic or my struggle to escape Eros’ arms. Surely, if I could wake him, he would be able to help.
I reach out for him, straining to get to him, but he’s just out of arm’s reach.
“Death,” I whisper weakly, my voice edged in fear.
Immediately he reaches up to pull down his mask, his eyes snapping open to meet mine. He sits up, his gaze darkening as he takes in my current situation. Without a word to me, he leans over and shoves Eros roughly aside.
Letting out a groan of pain, Eros’ hold on me loosens as Death shoves him once again. Using his other hand to pull me free, Death cradles me against his chest as Eros rolls over onto his other side.
“Are you alright, little one?” he asks, worry in his voice.
I nod, welcoming the chill of his body against the sweat of my own.
“He … he did not do anything to you?”
“No,” I answer with a shake of my head.
“Are you sure?”
I lean away slightly to look up at him, confused why he keeps asking. Other than his hold on me, I’m sure he didn’t do anything or touch any other part of me.
Still, I can’t deny how troubled I am that I was completely unaware of him being in bed with me … or that it was him, and not Death, I was cuddled up against. My cheeks burn with shame and embarrassment.
“Yes, I’m sure he meant nothing by it,” I say, fighting the urge to bury my face against Death’s chest.
He says nothing to this, but I can tell he doesn’t quite believe Eros’ innocence in all this. Tightening his hold on me, Death shifts forward to suddenly give him a hard shove from the bed.
Eros tumbles out, hitting the floor with a thud and a curse.
He groans loudly before rising to his feet with a glare that could almost rival Death’s.
“That wascompletelyunnecessary,” he mutters as he stretches and rolls his shoulders.
My eyes widen as I realize he’s not wearing anything. Standing before me, completely on display, is the man who just had me pinned to his chest.
I know I should pull my eyes away from the chiseled contours of his body as they trace their way lower, but I can’t seem to stop staring. He looks like a marble statue, standing there in the soft morning light, but somehow even more beautiful.
And … I gasp, heat rushing to my cheeks as my gaze drops too low.
Death coughs, the sound enough to break the draw Eros’ body seems to have and pull me back to myself. With a small squeak of shame, I bury my face in Death’s chest.
“Put some damn clothes on,” Death growls.
