Total pages in book: 131
Estimated words: 121854 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 609(@200wpm)___ 487(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121854 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 609(@200wpm)___ 487(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
If Aodhan ever left him again…
Before he could complete the agonizing thought, Aodhan shifted to press his lips to Illium’s abdomen, just above the edge of the precariously knotted towel. Warm breath, sure lips, the barest touch of wet. Sucking in a rough inhale, Illium went to clench his hand reflexively in Aodhan’s hair before a surge of protectiveness had him placing that hand on the other man’s shoulder instead.
Never would he make Adi feel trapped.
The shoulder under his touch bunched as Aodhan shifted back, locked his eyes with Illium’s…and tugged at the knot in the towel, his knuckles brushing Illium’s abdomen. The tug wasn’t enough to dislodge it, just enough for a question. In answer, Illium didn’t step back, didn’t break the contact between them.
His heart was in his throat, his skin so tight, it felt as if it would burst.
Part of him—the part that had been looking after Aodhan for centuries—wanted to tell the other man that this was too fast, that it might rebound on him. But the Aodhan who looked at him, square jawed and with desire an inferno in his gaze, wasn’t afraid or held hostage by nightmare. He was a warrior in control of his desires—and this was what he wanted.
Illium was who he wanted
Another tug, this one stronger.
The towel pooled to the floor…and Aodhan’s gaze lowered.
He brushed his knuckles over the last inches of Illium’s abdomen…lower…
17
Illium’s entire body went rigid at the first contact of Aodhan’s skin against his aroused flesh, his breath locked in his chest.
“Look at me, Blue.” Only at Aodhan’s murmuring order did Illium realize he’d thrown back his head and clamped his eyes shut, his hands curled into bloodless fists at his sides.
It took conscious effort to return his gaze back to Aodhan, the intimacy of it blinding.
His breath kicked in, rapid and shallow.
“Those eyes,” Aodhan murmured, his knuckles yet grazing Illium in a butterfly caress that might as well have been a hot poker for what it was doing to him. “Those eyelashes. That skin. All mine.”
Illium could barely think, every cell of his being focused on Aodhan. Except for in his days as an impetuous youth with his first lovers, he’d always been able to maintain a degree of control in intimate relationships. Never in a way that put him above his partner—that wasn’t how Illium functioned. He didn’t use people so cynically. When he shared his body, he did so with generosity and sincerity.
He’d just…never become lost in those past lovers.
Today, he was so lost that he felt unmoored.
Then Aodhan brushed the bunched muscles of his thigh with the fingers of his other hand. “Breathe, darling.” A dazzling smile. “Or you’ll give me the ego to end all egos.”
Illium muttered a curse from their childhood, in a language no longer spoken even by those who’d grown up with it—but its creative curses lingered. This one had no direct translation into English.
Aodhan’s laughter was full-bodied and so unrestrained, it made Illium’s very being ache.
And his hands…they were those of an artist.
Today, Illium was his clay.
To be shaped with caressing strokes, to be squeezed just so for the right response, to be handled, until every nerve and pleasure cell in Illium’s body was focused only on that point of contact. “Adi.” A groan, a demand, his fingers digging into the taut muscle of Aodhan’s shoulder without his conscious volition.
Aodhan didn’t even seem to notice, his attention on shaping his living clay with a precision unbounded. “Let go,” he commanded in a low growl. “It’s my turn to look after you.”
The words, that fucking low voice…Illium’s world fractured into stars as bright as Aodhan, his tendons tense enough to snap. All while Aodhan stroked his thigh with his free hand in a touch so tender, it took this far beyond the primal and sexual.
Illium’s knees threatened to buckle in the aftermath. As it was, he barely managed to stumble sideways onto the bed, somehow managing to avoid the tray of food; then he just lay on his back, his chest heaving and his wings limp. He was aware of Aodhan moving, stepping into the bathing chamber.
He was back moments later—with a kiss and a warm damp cloth, which Illium grabbed off him, his face flushed. After he took care of himself, he threw the cloth in the direction of the bathing chamber and had the satisfaction of hearing cloth hit tile.
Aodhan chuckled as he came down beside him after moving the food back to the table. “My Blue.” He brushed his fingers over Illium’s cheekbones. “I never thought you’d be shy.”
“Neither did I,” Illium muttered, because despite his flaming cheeks, this, just lying here with Aodhan’s wing over his body while the other man touched his shoulders and chest as if discovering him for the first time, it felt good.