This time neither of us pull away. Her mouth is mine. Her breath is mine. Every soft, broken whimper that spills from her throat belongs to me.
I lift her from the water; her legs snap around my waist like they were always meant to lock there.
The instant her bare, swollen pussy kisses the hard plane of my abdomen I groan — low, animal — at how scalding and slick she already is, coating my skin with her arousal.
The urge to slam her back against the tiles and rut into her until the whole castle hears us nearly wins. But no. Not her first time in my bed. Not when I've dreamed of this exact surrender for a millennium.
I carry her dripping body to the black sheets and lay her down like a sacred relic placed on an altar.
Water darkens the fabric under her hips in a glistening halo.
She gazes up with those beguiling aquamarine eyes — wide, beautiful, utterly trusting — and the sight of her trust in me, the monster, renders me completely breathless.
"Azrael…" Her arms reach.
