Grace and Glory

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Grace and Glory Page 23

by Armentrout, Jennifer L.


  I needed to stop, because now wasn’t the time for any of that, especially things that may never come to fruition.

  Hearing the bathroom door snick shut, my pulse skyrocketed into uncharted territories. I kept my eyes forward as I focused on breathing, which was strangely requiring a lot of effort.

  The slightest movement behind me threw that hard work with the breathing out the window. Skin brushed against skin, sending a tight, intense shiver down my spine.

  A moment passed and I felt the light touch of Zayne’s fingers on my shoulders, sweeping my hair to one side. His lips then pressed against the skin below the nape of my neck, and my toes curled against the floor of the stall.

  Unable to keep silent in the highly charged silence, I said, “The de-Cayman-izing didn’t take very long.”

  “I only got through the first layer before I grew too impatient,” he said, and I grinned. “It’s going to require another round later. Maybe a third by the looks of it.”

  “I’ll do both rounds,” I offered. “Do you want the stuff for your hair?” When he said yes, I grabbed the bottle he used, the one that was both a shampoo and conditioner. If I used that stuff on my hair, it would be as dry as a bird’s nest afterward, and I had no idea how his wasn’t.

  A companionable silence descended in the bathroom as we got down to using the shower for what it was designed for. The awkwardness faded even though I was overly aware of every moment his skin touched mine, when he reached around me to place a bottle on the shelf and his arm grazed mine. Or when I washed the shampoo and then the conditioner out of my hair, having to turn around to do so. My hip had brushed against his thighs, and he’d gone as still as a statue again. I’d kept my eyes closed through all of that, and when he reached for the body wash, I wished I had the courage to offer my assistance, but I was too afraid of sounding like a dork, so I kept quiet as the steamy air filled with the minty scent of whatever wash he used and the lusher tones of jasmine that came from the body wash I always used.

  When he rinsed off and moved behind me again, I expected him to step out, but he didn’t. My breath caught as his hands glided down the slick, still soapy skin of my arms, over my elbows and then to my wrists. I hadn’t even realized until then that I’d folded my arms over my waist. With impossible gentleness, he eased my arms to my sides.

  The edges of his wet hair brushed my cheek as he lowered his head, this time pressing a kiss to the spot between my neck and shoulder, where he’d nipped the skin and left a mark. “Sorry about that,” he offered. “I’ve never done that before.”

  “It’s okay,” I told him. “It’s not like it’s noticeable.”

  He kissed the spot again. Legs trembling, I opened my eyes as his thumbs moved in slow, idle circles along the insides of my wrists. I watched his hands slide from my wrists to my stomach. His deep golden skin was such a contrast against the more yellow, olive tones of mine. He didn’t press his hands against my belly like I had done earlier. Obviously he wasn’t as much of a mess as I was, but I wondered if he was trying to imagine the same thing I had—a stomach far more swollen than the typical carb bloat I was normally rocking.

  A heartbeat later he confirmed as much. “If it turns out that you’re pregnant and if you decide that’s what you want, it’ll be okay,” he said, his voice rough with emotion. “But you did say something wrong earlier.”

  “Only one thing?”

  “You wouldn’t make a terrible mother,” Zayne said.

  I choked out a laugh. “I wasn’t wrong.”

  “You don’t give yourself enough credit, Trin. You’d be one of the fiercest mothers there is, and you would stop at nothing to give them the best possible life,” he told me. “I don’t doubt that for a second.”

  A ragged breath left me. “We.” I turned my head toward his. “If we decide if that’s what we want, it’ll be okay.”

  “Right,” he said thickly. His lips found my cheek. “We got this, no matter what.”

  “We do.” And I believed that. I really did.

  A flutter started in my chest and moved lower as I felt his gaze on me from behind. There was a tightening all over.

  Zayne’s head dipped once more, his chin grazing the side of my head as his mouth found its way to my ear. “I am not worthy of you.”

  “That’s the farthest thing from the truth.”

  “It’s not. You’re brave and strong. Fearless. You’re intelligent, kind and loyal.” His large hands slid to my hips. “You’re breathtaking.” He kissed my neck, and I shuddered. “I want you, now and always.”

  Heart thumping as instinct guided me, I took a step back, allowing our bodies to come into full contact. He made a raw sound, and heat lit up my veins.

  His hands spasmed against my hips. “I already wanted you badly, but now I feel like I’m coming out of my skin,” he said, and I could feel him, all of him, and there was no doubting the truth behind his words. “But I know things are probably weird for you right now, so that is why I’m going to wait until you leave and then turn this water ice cold.”

  A heady riot of sensations skated over my skin as I turned in his arms. I didn’t let myself overthink what I was doing. I looked up, blinking the wetness off my lashes. He stared down at me, his jaw clenched and his gaze filled with stark need. The glow behind his pupils was more vibrant. I placed my hands on his chest. “Kiss me?”

  “Trin,” he rasped, the word more of a growl than anything I’d ever heard from him. I shivered as his hands tensed around my hips. “I want to do that more than anything I’ve ever wanted in my life, but I’m quickly learning that I feel things a bit more intensely than before. I’m trying to do the right thing. You need time, and if I kiss you, I...I don’t think my restraint is what it used to be. I don’t want to—” He groaned, body shuddering as I slid my hands down his stomach. “I don’t want to be that kind of person who loses control.”

  My gaze drifted over the harsher lines of his features. “You could never be that person. Right now is proof of that.”

  “The pool was proof of exactly the opposite.”

  “Not true,” I insisted. “I know even then, if I hadn’t wanted to do anything, you would’ve stopped. I know.”

  His lips thinned as he stared down at me. “You think too highly of me.”

  “I think just right about you,” I corrected, and his eyes became liquid, heated sapphire. “The bruises and stuff barely hurt now. I don’t need time. Nothing is weird for me. Is anything weird for you?”

  He shook his head no.

  “Good, because what I do want is you, Zayne, now and always.” I felt my cheeks warm. “Key emphasis on the now part.”

  For a moment, I thought he was going to refuse, and at that point, I planned on just jumping on him. I hoped he kept his footing on the slippery tile, but then he did move.

  He lowered his head, and when his mouth touched mine, I realized that I had in no way experienced all his kisses, because this one was everything. Both infinitely tender and wholly demanding, he kissed with a sense of urgency and yet in a way that made me feel like we had all the time in the world.

  And this kiss...it flipped and twisted my insides into a heady mess. Sensations raced over my skin and through me. My heart surged and the feeling unfurling in my chest was just as intense as the throb of grace. He kissed me as if he sought to erase the endless hours and days we’d been apart.

  Under my hands, I could feel his muscles flex as he lifted me in his arms. I wrapped my legs around him as the arm around my waist kept me tight against him. His mouth never left mine as he turned us. I had no idea how he managed to shut the water off, and I didn’t even know exactly when we’d left the shower. There were moments in the bathroom when he stopped, and I was pressed between him and the wall. Then we were moving again, and it wasn’t long before my back hit the rumpled blankets on the bed. We were together, our bodie
s slippery, our wet hair soaking the sheets we quickly became tangled in, and then we were wrapped up in one another. His hands were everywhere, the heat of his mouth following as I traced the lines of his chest and stomach, reveling in the feel of him. His mouth was wicked, dragging breathy sounds from me, lingering on my breasts, and then he was moving lower, below my navel and even lower still. When his mouth closed over that sensitive part, he devoured me, and I was left mindless and throbbing from those drugging kisses.

  This time, there was a brief pause for protection. We weren’t going to keep testing fate there. Then he was settling over me, his warmth and weight welcomed and so desperately missed.

  “I love you,” I whispered against his mouth as I urged him closer with my hands and my kisses.

  I moved against him and then he moved inside me. There were no more words from there. None were necessary as we fell headfirst into the desire and passion, but those weren’t the only things between us. In each kiss and touch were relief, acceptance and a need and want that went beyond the physical. And there was so much love building between us, we were happily drowning in it.

  There had been no real semblance of control before that, but things got...they became frantic. I lifted my hips to meet his thrusts, and he worked both arms under me, lifting me against him. We both were like ropes stretched too far, and when we snapped, we did so together, tumbling over the edge. As tight, rolling shocks came in endless waves, I felt the stir of air against my cheek and the feel of something soft lying against my arm. My eyes fluttered.

  It was Zayne’s wings.

  They had come off his back and now draped over the both of us, the feathers. My gaze lifted, and I saw the stars on the ceiling, glowing as softly as Zayne’s wings.

  22

  Sometime later, we lay facing each other. A sheet was tucked under my arms, and he was, well, gloriously naked and completely at ease with all of that. Probably because the bedside lamp he’d turned on left all those interesting bits of his in the shadows. His hand was wrapped around mine—the one I had sliced open during the spell. I was bone-deep tired and I had no idea what time it was, but his wings were still out, one resting on his side and the other behind him, and I wanted...I wanted to touch one so badly.

  But I was being an adult and operating by the no-touch-without-asking rule. Warden wings could sometimes be sensitive, and you didn’t just go around willy-nilly touching them. I imagined these must be the same, since he reacted so strongly when I did try to touch them before.

  God, Zayne actually was an angel. Well, a fallen angel, to be exact. It was weird how every so often the reality seemed to smack me straight in the face.

  “The wings,” I said, smothering a yawn. “That was different.”

  “I didn’t know that would happen.” He started to tuck his one wing back.

  “No. Don’t put them away. The wings don’t bother me. It was just something new.”

  Turning my hand over, he kissed the healing cut. The glow behind his pupils was once more muted. “And it’s different.”

  “Yes, but I like them.” I wiggled closer. “They’re beautiful, Zayne.”

  “Thank you.” He kissed the tip of a finger. “Let me guess, you’re jealous of them?”

  I grinned. “Maybe.”

  His deep chuckle caused my grin to grow. “I guess I’m still getting used to them,” he said.

  “It feels different than being a Warden?”

  “It does. All of it does actually.” Another kiss was pressed to the next finger. “Being in my human and Warden states felt natural unless I was wounded and needed to go into a deep healing state,” he explained, referencing when they took stone form to slumber. I hadn’t seen him do that. “Keeping my wings hidden doesn’t feel natural. It makes my back feel itchy. That’s the best way I can describe it.”

  “Then don’t keep them hidden when you don’t have to, especially when you’re with me.” I glanced at them, my fingers tingling. “They’re amazing. I would love to have wings and to be able to fly.”

  “I’ll make sure you fly whenever you want.” He kissed my ring finger. “You want to touch them, don’t you?”

  I gave him a sheepish grin as I curled my toes. “Yes. I do. Really badly.”

  “Then why haven’t you?”

  “I’ve been working really hard on the whole not touching without permission thing, and it’s been killing me.” I squirmed another inch closer. “They look so soft and fluffy.”

  He chuckled, lowering my hand and tipping his head down to mine. The kiss sent a pulse of warmth through me. “Since you’ve worked so hard, I think you deserve a reward.”

  My mind immediately jumped in the gutter and happily splashed around, but then I noticed movement. He lifted his wing, letting it lie over us and against my hip. The wing was so long that it reached behind me, and the weight of it reminded me of a thick, lush blanket. The top was so close I could practically kiss one of the feathers. I sucked in a breath, eyes going wide.

  “You don’t mind?” I asked, five seconds from squealing with excitement.

  “No.” He let go of my hand. “It’s not too heavy?”

  “Not at all.” Biting down on my lip, I reached out and ran my fingers over the curve of the nearest feather.

  It was as soft as I imagined, like chenille, but under the downy feathers was thick muscle. The entire wing of a Warden was muscle and tendon, but an angel had...God, they had to have hundreds of muscles hidden under the gorgeous fluff. I skimmed my fingers down, and my breath caught. That wasn’t the only thing hidden within the feathers.

  So was the grace.

  It pulsed along the center of each feather, sparking out in a network of delicate veins. It seemed to follow my touch as my fingers drifted, flaring and then subsiding.

  I glanced up at his face. The glow behind his pupils was brighter. I pulled my hand away. “Does touching your wings bother you? If so, be honest. It won’t hurt my feelings.”

  “No. Quite the opposite.” Catching my hand, he placed my fingers against the underside of his wing once more. “I like it.”

  “Is it relaxing?” I asked. “Sort of like when a dog is petted?”

  “If anyone else made that comparison, I might be offended.”

  I smiled.

  “In a way, it’s relaxing,” he said, reaching between us and placing his hand on the curve of my waist. “They are really sensitive.”

  “More so than Warden’s wings?”

  His hand slid under his wing to my hip. “Way more. I can feel each touch along my back...and in other places.”

  “Other places?” I sent him a grin, wondering if that was what had caused his reaction in the pool. “Interesting.”

  He let out a throaty hum as he squeezed my hip. Filing away that piece of knowledge, I kept petting his wing. I wasn’t sure how much time passed as my mind wandered. Somehow I ended up on what I’d seen earlier that night.

  “I saw the stars tonight,” I announced as randomly as humanly possible. “I mean, I really saw them.”

  His hand had been moving idly, sweeping up and down my waist and hip, but it stilled then. “What do you mean?”

  “It happened right after I...well, after I stabbed you in the heart and this burst of light knocked me over. I think it was your grace.” I looked over at him. His gaze was zeroed in on me, and it was always like that whenever I spoke, even before. It was like I was the only person in his world. “When I opened my eyes, I could see all of them, Zayne. There were so many and they were really clear, like I imagine they must be for people with good eyesight. I could’ve been imagining things, but even if it was, they were beautiful.”

  “I don’t know why you would’ve imagined something like that. Not sure what could’ve happened to cause that, though,” he said.

  “Me, neither. Your wings kind of remind me of it. Ho
w the grace winks between layers of feathers. It’s like stars peeking out behind clouds.” I ran my fingers farther along his wings, toward his back. The feathers were thinner there, the muscles underneath more prominent. “My vision went back to normal after a few moments, but I’m glad I got to see it.”

  “I’m happy for you—that you got to see them,” he said, his voice rougher.

  I glanced back at him again, and that glow in his eyes was once again vibrant. “You’re more sensitive the closer it gets to your back, aren’t you?”

  “Yes.” That one word sounded as if it had to fight its way out between clenched teeth.

  The warmth in my stomach coiled tight. I rose onto my elbow so I could reach around his shoulders. The sheet slipped a little as my fingers neared the smooth skin of the anchor, and Zayne’s entire body jerked. “Interesting,” I murmured.

  “Very,” he rasped, head kicking back as I ran my fingers along the muscle. “I think you’re teasing me.”

  “Maybe.” I started to pull my hand back, but Zayne was as fast as he was strong. He moved before I even realized what he was doing, shifting onto his back and pulling me on top of him. Somehow he’d gotten rid of the sheet. When the bare skin of his chest made contact with mine, I shivered from the pleasure of it. “You have amazing multitasking skills.”

  “I do.” A hint of arrogance hardened his tone. He curled his hand around the back of my head, drawing my mouth to his. “Just remember, you started this.”

  “I’m not going to complain,” I told him.

  And I didn’t.

  His hunger was evident in the way he kissed me, in how his hand skimmed the side of my body, of my breast. Zayne sat up, bringing me with him. Our bodies were lined up in all sorts of fun ways. My head fell back as his lips trailed a path of kisses down my throat. His hands went to my waist and he lifted me a few inches, and his lips were moving lower still. I gasped, jerking. He held me steady as he pulled me closer to him. Reaching behind him, I slid my hand over the base of his wing.

  Zayne dragged me back down, against his chest. “You’re probably going to do that as much as possible, aren’t you?”

 

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