Thronos had barely recovered from the vision of her flawless ass when she turned to him, unleashing the full force of her beauty. At the sight, three things happened:

 

He almost fell out of the tree.

 

His shaft shot so hard so fast that he grew dizzy.

 

And he decided he’d deal with any danger as it came along.

 

He’d known her breasts were generous. Now he saw they were perfection. Milk-white, a touch fuller at the bottom, topped with cherry-red nipples.

 

If he were a fanciful male, he’d swear those peaks were stiffening under his avid gaze. His member began to throb.

 

Her narrow waist flared to shapely hips. The black thatch of hair on her mons was a small, trimmed V. Her legs were long and lithe. He imagined them bent beside his hips as she rode his shaft—or kneeling over his head as she straddled his tongue.

 

“I’ll just wash off, then,” she said in a casual tone. Seeming unaware of her earth-shattering effect on him, she stepped under the cascade, tipping her face to the water, and started to bathe.

 

She must be confident that he could control himself; she was mistaken.

 

But considering the way his erection ached, intercourse would be short-lived. He decided to get his first release behind him, then seduce her slowly.

 

He had a last brief thought about dangers and being alert, but then she rubbed water over her breasts—the most breathtaking sight he’d ever witnessed.

 

Conclusion: the plan to mate her as soon as possible is sound.

 

Never taking his eyes off her, he was only dimly aware that his shaking hands had begun removing his boots.

 

As she rinsed her hair, she noticed him removing his second boot. “You didn’t say anything about your getting naked.”

 

“I plan to touch you.”

 

“Hmm. Wouldn’t that be an offendment?”

 

He nodded ominously.

 

“Do I have any say in this?” She drew her hair behind her shoulders.

 

“You told me that if I saved you from the swamp serpents, you would let me touch you.”

 

“Oh. That. I didn’t say you could while I was naked.”

 

In answer, he dropped to the ground, striding toward her.

 

   

 

Lanthe was in a precarious position. She desired Thronos. If she was honest with herself, she’d admit that her attraction to him was already greater than to any other male.

 

But touching led to claiming.

 

She was going to have to trust Thronos not to follow his most primal instincts. In general, males had never given her much reason to trust them. And this one was already rock hard, his cock straining against the leather of his breeches.

 

Thronos started on his pants as he closed in, his scarred fingers unlacing them, his stomach muscles flexing. Once the fly gaped, she followed his dark goody trail from his navel—

 

Down went his pants. Her jaw dropped in time. Well. Thronos is all growed up.

 

He planned to claim her. With that?

 

She could tell he was uncomfortable, obviously unused to being naked around another. But apparently his need was burning away his instilled modesty.

 

When he pressed closer, she stepped back against the smooth tree trunk, putting the curtain of water between them. With a second’s reprieve, she resolved again to go only up to a point with him. She could control herself, despite her hormones, despite the body he’d just revealed!

 

He continued forward, letting the water run over his back and wings. He shook his dark hair out, wet locks whipping over his broad cheekbones. Between his narrow hips, his erection jutted hungrily.

 

She waved to it. “You still deny your demon blood? Exhibit A. Case dismissed.”

 

Aside from his nearly dismaying size, his cock was gorgeous. The shaft was straight and thick, with a dominant vein visibly pulsing. The crown bulged so much that the slit was almost hidden. His testicles were large, and looked in need of cupping and kissing.

 

When she could drag her gaze up, she was treated to his entire body in all its naked glory. His rugged muscles were ideally proportioned for his seven feet of height. The width of his shoulders only highlighted the leanness of his hips.

 

Above the sculpted planes of his torso, his pecs were rigid slabs of masculinity. Were those flat, dusky nipples of his sensitive? The thought had her twirling her tongue in her mouth.

 

Scars crisscrossed his chest, one curling around his hip, another deep one slashing up his left thigh. But they didn’t blunt her attraction whatsoever.

 

He was indeed tan all over. The sun had kissed him from the top of his head to that mouthwatering shaft to his feet. One of his lower legs looked swollen, as if the tendons were knotted there, and his foot curved inward. The cause of his limp. She thought he was fighting to keep his foot straight for this perusal.

 

She wished he wouldn’t bother, but males were funny like that. Show no weakness, grrr.

 

He’d seen all of her; she wanted a similar viewing of him, so she emerged from the water, sauntering around him. When he realized what she was doing, he lifted his chin, as if steeling himself against her reaction. But he didn’t move out from under the cascade.

 

Revealed between two glimmering wing tapers, his ass was a purr-inducing work of art. Streams coursed over the smooth skin there, over the tight muscles framed by shaded hollows. The cleft of his ass was so taut, she wondered if she could even nip it with her teeth.

 

As she continued around, he remained still, allowing her to ogle him. Now that she knew how he felt about his looks, she found this tremendously brave.

 

Sometimes Lanthe wasn’t as brave as she could be—certainly not like everyone else who lived in or even visited Tornin—so she applauded anyone who demonstrated the trait.

 

Shouldn’t Thronos’s bravery be rewarded?

 

When she stood before him once more, he scanned her face. Searching for some hint of her thoughts?

 

“Thronos, if I honestly tell you what I think of your body, will you tell me what you think of mine?” He hadn’t said anything aloud.

 

“Peculiar sorceress. Yes, I will.” And then he held his breath.

 

“You’re so big. And hard. When I look at your body . . . I get wet for it.”

 

His lips parted around an exhalation. Puh.

 

   

 

Thronos was still reeling from her words. His body aroused hers? Only fair since she made him hard as stone.

 

Yet then her gaze dipped to his chest. To his scars. He stood unclothed before her, and she focused on the most hated parts of his body.

 

She leaned forward. She kissed a scar.

 

His head fell back. Was this her way of apologizing? Of showing her regret? Another feather-light graze of her lips followed.

 

If this was the way she expressed remorse, he might be helpless not to forgive her!

 

“And now, what do you think of mine?” she asked against his skin.

 

I almost come just from looking at you. I need to lick every inch of your flesh. I want to pin you down and suckle you—for hours. “You’re exquisite,” he finally bit out, laying his palms against the tree trunk above her head. His wings closed in on her. Trapping her.

 

Her gaze darted from one to the other, but she didn’t say anything.

 

“Impossibly exquisite.” He leaned his head down to her neck, drawing deep of her scent, letting her feel his exhalations. Gods, she smelled so inconceivably right to him. He couldn’t stop himself from nuzzling her neck. It made her shiver, so he did it again. Then he ran his lips beside her ear, rasping, “I’ll likely wake to discover this isn’t real—just another dream of you.”

 

“What happens when you have those dreams? I’m sure you have a law against masturbation.”

 

He nodded, then confessed, “I wake up thrashing, thrusting at anything, already culminating.”

 

She released a shaky breath of her own.

 

“I’ve fantasized about you, about all the forbidden things I want to do to you, for hundreds of thousands of nights. And now you’re here with me,” he said, voice laden with disbelief. “If just one of my dreams would come true.”

 

“What would you like to happen?”

 

Need to be buried inside you! But . . . “Melanthe, let’s begin with a kiss.” In Inferno, he’d decided that their first real kiss would be vastly different from the frenzied taking when he’d first captured her. He could be tender.

 

When he curled his finger under her chin, tilting her head up, she asked, “Have you ever done this before?”

 

He shook his head.

 

“Do you remember when you taught me to swim?”

 

In the lake by their meadow. “I remember.” She’d been terrified at first, clinging to him, but by the end of that afternoon, she’d taken to the water like a selkie pup.

 

“You taught me the basics, and then instinct took over. Maybe I could teach you the basics of kissing?”

 

“I want that.”

 

“You could brush your lips against mine a couple of times, to get used to the feeling. Then when you’re ready you could slip your tongue in to find mine.”

 

He raised his knee beside her, boxing her in, as if he subconsciously feared she’d escape him yet again. “And then?”

 

“You’d slowly and sensuously lick the tip of my tongue.”

 

“Yes.” His swollen length shot even harder.

 

“Hopefully we’ll drive each other crazy. When that happens you can take my mouth deeper. Just do what feels good for you, and it’ll likely feel good for me.”

 

With a nod, he leaned down to graze his lips over hers and back. Again. Hers were so plump, giving. When her breaths shallowed, he slanted his mouth to deepen the kiss.

 

As he slowly dipped between her sweet lips, she clung to his shoulders, gripping his muscles when the tip of his tongue found hers. The contact was electric! He groaned into her mouth, wondering if he would instantaneously spend.

 

Considering the pressure in his shaft, this seemed probable.

 

Though he’d wanted to get his first release out of the way, now he realized that would be squandering the experience.

 

Thronos would endeavor to last—

 

She began licking back, with light laps of her tongue that made his head swim. Still, he kept the pace slow, lazily teasing her, as if he had all the time in the world. He was rewarded with her seductive moan.

 

When he grew more aggressive, she murmured against his lips, “Yes, yes.” She laid one palm on his chest, turning it until her fingers were pointed down. Inch by inch, she lowered her hand.

 

Between the kiss and her touch, he was awash in stimulation. Too much! His member jerked as if to meet her halfway. By the time she reached it, he would release in her palm.

 

Breaking from the kiss, he collected her wrists, pinning them above her head. Her eyes were glittering, her body trembling—because of him. Him.

 

In a breathy voice, she said, “Well. You certainly have the hang of it. But don’t you want us to touch each other?”

 

He bit out an anguished sound. “You have no idea.” He recalled how that Volar had used his wings to stroke the demoness. Gaze locked on Melanthe’s, Thronos began tracing his talon over her collarbone.

 

Her eyes went wide. “Oh! You’re touching me with your wings?”

 

“If I put my hands on you . . .”

 

She seemed to realize his quandary.

 

“Trust me not to hurt you, Melanthe.”

 

Gradually, he felt her body relaxing under his exploration.

 

As he trailed the talon between her breasts, his need to cup them was overwhelming. He made fists, claws digging into the palms of his hands until blood dripped.

 

His talon smoothed along the undersides of her breasts, those perfect, pale globes. They would be a heaven of softness beneath his rough palms.

 

As he finally skimmed toward one of her nipples, she shook, arching to him.

 

Then he scented her arousal. Dear gods. The luscious scent of her sex readying for his length . . .

 

Nearly put him to his knees.

 

How much more could he withstand?