Page 149 of Kissed By the Gods
I lay next to her, planning to disentangle myself from her arms, to scoot to the edge of the bed. To get some godsdamn distance. But she curls up next to me, her head falling against my shoulder, like that little crook in my arm was made for her.
And that pressure that’s been building in my chest snaps taut like a rope. With a contented sigh, I wrap my arms around her and pull her in tight.
We’ll get up in a minute. We’ll face the world in a minute.
Right now is ours. This one minute, even if I have to steal it from the gods, is ours.
She runs her fingers through the hair on my chest, and I shiver.
She looks up at me with a little grin. “Ticklish, are you?”
I press a kiss on her forehead. “Warriors aren’t ticklish.”
She smiles and continues playing with my chest hair. My hands tighten on her waist, and I inhale her sweet, simple scent of lavender and sweat. I run my hands through her curls and trace my fingers down the scar on her face until I reach her chin.I press my fingers against the pulse in her neck—it’s a frantic, rapid beat. I smile.
She stretches against me. “Mmm,” she says. “It’s been years since I’ve been so relaxed.”
There’s a sharp rap on the door. Not an urgent call, but a warning, nonetheless.
“We have to get up and get dressed.” I search her eyes, hoping she understands. “We’ll find time to talk later but?—”
“No one can know,” she interrupts. “Like Nyrica and Thalric.”
I tilt my head, taken by surprise by her insightfulness. It took me years to work out what she figured out in a few months.
I nod.
She grins and it’s mischievous. “What, exactly, should I get dressed in?”
I look down at the tangled remnants of her dress. I should be embarrassed. Ashamed, even, at my lack of self-control. But all I can feel when I look at her like this is possessive.
She’s mine.
The only thing she’s still wearing is her boots. I groan. No one should look so good in combat boots.
“Well, no one else was going to see you in that dress,” I tell her, and I press a quick kiss to her lips. “Be right back.”
I grab my pants from the floor, quickly fastening them as I head for the door, and crack it open an inch. Thalric is still standing against the wall, and Nyrica is back, as well.
“Leina needs clothes,” I say.
Thalric arches an eyebrow and stares at me.
Nyrica smirks. “Uh-huh,” he says and saunters off down the hallway. “I’ll be back. I’ll steal someone’s dress from the orgy room.”
I narrow my eyes at his retreating back. “Something that will cover her.”
He laughs. I ignore Thalric’s burning gaze as I snap the door closed again and turn back to Leina. She’s sprawled across the bed, her dark curls fanning out against an ivory pillow. She’s cradled by the quiet and soothed by the stillness. Her eyes are closed, her breathing deep. Damn, but she fell asleep fast.
I hate to wake her when I know how exhausted she is, but I brush a hand up her thigh.
“Leina,” I whisper. “We have to get back to the Synod.”
She doesn’t answer, not even a murmur or a groan. What the fuck is this?
I slide into the bed next to her and pull her into my arms. She’s limp, completely.
Her breathing has slowed to the point it’s almost like she’s stopped it altogether. I press frantic fingers against her pulse—it had been beating wild after sex, but now it’s sluggish, like her heart is pumping molasses. She goes ice-cold from one moment to the next.
