Page 93 of Yearning For Her

She blushed, but her smile was wide. “I feel beautiful when you look at me.”

He hooked a finger under her chin. “You should feel it all the time. Your radiance has nothing to do with me.”

Before he could succumb to the urge to kiss her again, he strode to the shower and turned it on. Once the water was steaming, he pulled Willow inside and closed the sliding glass door. Hot water cascaded over them.

Kian swept his hair behind his shoulder, plucked a bottle of bodywash off the shelf, and opened it. He drizzled the soap into his palm. Setting the bottle down, he guided Willow to turn her back toward him.

Starting at her neck, he ran his hands over her, massaging her flesh as he cleaned her. Her muscles relaxed under his touch, and she swayed in silent contentment, which tasted just as sweet as her most intense pleasure.

His cock throbbed. The mere act of touching her, of making her feel good, nearly drove him wild with desire.

No. I am tending to my mate. She needs time to recover. Time to rest.

He cleaned her shoulders, her arms, her back, and then slid his hands around her sides. She shivered as his fingers brushed over her ribs. Then his fingers reached the undersides of her breasts. Drawing in a quiet, unsteady breath, he cupped that soft, ample flesh, lifting and squeezing. Her nipples hardened beneath his palms as he kneaded her breasts.

Willow hummed, her head falling back. She leaned toward him, and the head of his cock bumped her back.

That instant of contact sent a jolt of pleasure through Kian. He hissed through his teeth, pivoting his hips backward.

She glanced at him over her shoulder, a sultry grin on her tantalizing lips. “I think you poked me.”

Tending to her. Caring for her.

But gods, that ache was so pervasive, so persistent.

“Just ignore it, Willow,” he said.

“Kind of hard to ignore that thing.”

His balls tightened, and his cock twitched as though seeking her of its own accord. He caught his bottom lip with a fang, biting down, but the pain didn’t curtail his desire. “You’re telling me. I have to live with the fucker.”

Willow laughed and turned toward Kian, flattening her palms on his chest. She peered up at him through wet lashes. “Guess I have to live with it too.”

He’d been impressed by her ability to resist her wants, but when Willow took charge of them, when she owned them, there wasn’t anything sexier in the world.

“Fuck,” he rasped. “Willow… I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t.” She dropped her right hand to his cock and wrapped her fingers around it. “I won’t break, Kian.”

He grunted as she stroked him, and his wings snapped out, only to be blocked by the walls of the shower. The coldness of those walls sent a shiver down his spine that only intensified his pleasure.

Kian tried to restrain himself. He truly did. But with the fire in her eyes as she stared at him, with the way she stroked his cock so boldly, so confidently, with her standing before him, so wet and willing, so fucking sweet and tempting…

How the fuck was he supposed to resist her?

A snarl tore from his chest. It might’ve been a curse or a primal, wordless sound, but it didn’t matter. He was beyond caring.

He hooked his hands under her ass and lifted her. She threw her arms around him, fingers clutching his hair. Pressing her back to the wall, he spread her thighs.

Their eyes met again; their souls stared into each other with ravenousness, passion, and something infinitely deeper and more potent. Something that filled Kian with fire and fury, that cemented his knowledge of the only cosmic truth that mattered—Willow was his.

He drove into her waiting cunt with a growl and surrendered to their mutual desire.

Twenty-Five

Willow stood in her kitchen, bent over the island counter, with the late morning sunlight shining through the open window. A gentle breeze swept inside, carrying the musical sounds of the chimes hanging on the patio.

Absently, she dunked a tea bag into her mug, studying one of the sunflowers in the vase in front of her. She smiled. The flowers Kian had bought her still dominated the kitchen and living room, many of them looking as fresh as they had nearly a week ago. They perfumed her home and added so much color and life to it. They were also a constant reminder of the fae who’d given them to her.

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