Page 11 of Songs of Retribution

LENNOX

My eyes peeledopen to a ceiling decorated with gold and maroon tiles. I startled, shifting the layers of colorful blankets farther down, revealing my bare chest to the cool air. Then I met Shaan's gaze. He smiled, reached for my hand, and at his touch the world’s chaos stopped.

"Neia?" I asked.

"She's stable. And Luz and Sai are alternating keeping Elisa company for now."

I dropped farther into the bed as relief rushed through me. I wanted to see Elisa, but first I wished to steal a few moments with Shaan. He tightened his grip on my hand, and I caressed my thumb across his knuckles as I had during the entire long journey back. He'd been my anchor, helped me stretch my magic further than I thought possible.

I loved him.

It was the highest truth I'd ever known.

I moved closer, brushed my nose over his, and shivered as the heat of his breath rushed over my chin. My lips found his, and he leaned in, tucking an arm around my back as we deepened the kiss.

When we pulled apart, I propped myself up and looked around the room slowly. Dozens of paintings were stacked against the walls, a lavender settee was in one corner with carved wooden stools scattered around, and several colorful rugs laid across the floor. My gaze landed on a canvas near the door. I knew the painting, the vibrant colors of the sunrise over the sea, and the unfinished corner. He'd been working on that painting when we'd first met. I remembered exactly how I'd felt in that moment—the awe and curiosity and hungry attraction I'd tried to ignore. The canvas had a massive dent on one side and a gash that cut through the pale blues and soft pinks. It was so much like our relationship, beautiful and hopeless and damaged and yet still here.

"I knew your room would be beautiful," I said, my voice still thick with sleep, and I ended with a yawn.

Shaan whispered his fingers over my shoulder. "Did I wake you with my fidgeting? Perhaps you need more rest."

I rolled towards him, pulling his body to mine. "I feel like I've slept for a century. What I'd like—if you'd like—is to be with you."

Shaan's eyes sparkled like magic crackled across their surface—something I'd never seen with him before. I'd forgotten amid the last week’s chaos he received new magic—a great honor from his goddess. Yet he hadn't discussed it. He leaned forward and parted my lips with his which stalled my ceaseless stream of thoughts.

His mouth was soft and warm, and my magic came to life at his touch, rushing through me, adding to the pleasure of being in his arms. I slid my hand under his kurta and traced a pattern over his stomach, grazed lower and brushed his hip bone before sliding it across his waist. He groaned and pressed his hips up.

I flipped him over, pulled the kurta off, and kissed his neck as my hand slid down his chest. I knew his body so well, understood it better than mine in some ways. As I scraped over coarse hair, hardened nipples, and tensed muscles, I reveled in the way Shaan closed his eyes and kicked his head back, in the little moans he made and the way his body rose to meet mine.

Since I'd met him, we'd spent most of our time apart. Yet I knew we belonged together. Hell was about to open up and invite us towards our doom. We'd have to face my father and likely a war, yet I couldn't regret a thing. Not if it meant I ended up with this man.

I moved my mouth up his neck, pressing gentle kisses and nibbles along his skin, the lemony oil he wore stinging my tongue. Shaan arched his back and drew my body closer, pressing our hips together, and I groaned as well.

I stopped teasing him, draped my hand lower, and cupped him through his silk pants. He moaned a long, indistinct sound, and I chuckled against his skin. "You're so beautiful," I whispered, my voice husky with desire.

I pulled his pants off and raked my eyes down his body, over the dark hair and all his slopes and curves. I needed to memorize this man, press him into my heart. Shaan's fingers slid down my back, and I gripped the hard length of him, keeping my gaze locked onto the heat I found in his.

I pressed my lips to his for a searing kiss before rising. "Do you have any oil?"

Shaan opened his eyes and looked at me curiously, as if he wondered who this man was who knew how to ask for what he wanted. I wasn't sure I knew either, but I was eager to find out. Shaan rolled onto his side, slid a drawer open on a table, and pulled a jar out to hand to me.

He readjusted, resting on a pillow, his body gloriously on display and I thought my heart would stop from the sheer intensity of how much I loved him. I uncapped the jar, dipped my fingers in, and spread the oil over his body with a gentleness that belied the passion burning between us. I gave attention to every turn and dip, each inch of his skin, as if he were a piece of artwork of my making.

When I finally slid our bodies together, I did so slowly, reverently. Shaan leaned up, found my mouth, and brushed his fingertips along the ridges of my spine as we moved together rhythmically, our bodies in sync. He'd been willing to lie back and let me take charge, but now he was fully involved, his hands roaming over my body, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

Everything else faded away. The potential war, my father, the world’s chaos—all replaced by the intensity of our connection.

Shaan whispered my name, his breath hot against my ear, and I shivered. Our bodies were slick with sweat and oil, our movements growing more urgent as we raced towards a release we both desperately needed.

When it finally came, Shaan shuddered, his forehead falling to my collarbone. I trembled with a last thrust then crumpled onto him. He pulled me into his quivering arms like we were the only two beings in the world.

Shaan broke our connection first and sat on the edge of the bed, leaning down on his knees. I dropped beside him, and he clasped my hand, but tension radiated from him, something dark and haunted that had taken over his demeanor. Perhaps I recognized it because I'd lived in those emotions myself for so long.

Shaan Kalin. What's wrong?Somehow speaking out loud felt irreverent and too harsh for the moment.

It's nothing.He looked up at me and uncertainty and fear lingered in his eyes. It was something, and my heart fluttered. That had been the most perfect sex of my life, but maybe not for him.

"Shaan, if you didn't enjoy this, then—"

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