Page 86 of Decadence

“Allow me.” He closed his eyes and took a deep, shuddering breath.

His claws retracted.

He grasped the edge of her shirt and pulled it upwards, exposing the soft skin of her belly. He kept on pulling, tugging it up over her shoulders and arms. Mesmerized, Sienna cooperated, lifting her arms over her head, shedding the outer layer to reveal her bare torso. Her stretchy bra was next. Ikriss deftly removed it, and Sienna was only too happy to assist, maneuvering her arms and slipped it over her head. His touch was gentle-but firm, soft growls emanating from his throat as he took in her bare breasts and taut nipples.

Then he slipped his hands beneath the waistband of her tights, caressing bare skin and curves, slipping her tights and panties down in a single motion, running his hands over her ass, down her hips, snaking devious fingers along the insides of her thighs…

Each piece of clothing she shed was like a piece of baggage; a bad memory from her past melting away as she gave in to Ikriss’s feverish intensity.

She squirmed with delight and kicked off her leggings and her soft slippers, closing her eyes as he wrapped his arms around her.

He leaned in and kissed her, threading his fingers through her hair, releasing it from its messy bun so it flowed down over her shoulders.

He tasted of ice and bittersweetness and male.

His lips were warm, his tongue insistent.

She kissed him back. “Now it’s your turn,” she whispered breathlessly. Her hands flew to the opening of his jacket, which was held together by some weird zip-like fastening that she struggled to figure out.

Ikriss helped her. With a quick tug of his hand, the jacket opened, revealing his bare torso, which was half smooth silver skin and half obsidian machine.

Unafraid, she ran her hands across his chest and down his hard, rippling abs. Even with the modifications, he felt as good as he looked.

This man was pure silver perfection, his body honed and sculpted by brutal training and fighting.

She ran her hands across his broad, muscular back, her fingers traveling over hundreds of tiny scars that were etched in swirling patterns, reminding her of a school of darting fish in the ocean.

“What are they?” she asked, filled with wonder.

“My kvari,” he answered, his voice filled with pride. “They mark me as a hunter of my tribe. They are an important part of a male’s passage into manhood.”

“Turn around,” she ordered, filled with curiosity.

Ikriss smiled indulgently and slowly spun around, offering her a view of his broad, powerful back. She held back a gasp as she ran her fingers over hundreds of scars, both intentional and accidental.

The kvari were beautiful; a series of concentric ripples that spilled over in certain places, swirling across his right shoulder blade and down his right flank, spilling across his side, extending to the front of his torso. In some places, however, they were brutally intersected by vicious, jagged scars that spoke of terrible violence.

And then there were Zharek’s ghastly life-sustaining obsidian implants, abruptly cutting off the swirls, making him look like some sort of Kordolian-cyborg hybrid.

“I can’t even begin to imagine what you’ve gone through to wear these,” she said, unable to take her eyes off the intricate markings. They were a map of his life, both beautiful and terrible.

“Do my scars bother you, Sienna?”

“Not at all.” Entranced, she caressed the smooth, shiny bumps, which were a shade lighter than his silver skin. “I hope you’ll tell me more about them one day. I’m sure you have a whole bunch of crazy stories to tell me.”

“You would not believe half of it,” he said dryly as he turned around and captured her hands with his. “When I am whole again, I will tell you anything you wish to know, my love. There will be no secrets between us, ever.”

“I like the sound of that.” Sienna slipped out of his grasp and went for his trousers, fumbling with the buckle-thing. “And I like the look of this.”

She couldn’t take her eyes off the massive bulge of his cock beneath the dark fabric of his pants.

She wanted to see him. All of him.

He was the most delicious thing she’d ever seen.

Despite her best efforts, however, the damn pants wouldn’t budge.

God, why were Kordolian man-clothes so fucking complicated?

---