Demon's Journey

~ ZEV ~

Zev had intended to make a speech. He'd planned to tell her how much this meant to him, to check in and make sure she wasn't nervous. To set the stage so she could relax.

But when she'd said she was hungry—for him!—and looked at him like that, light and heat and joy written on every feature… he'd forgotten all his plans. He had to have his hands on her. Had to be close.

He'd swooped in, pulling her into him and she'd come willingly, laughing and holding his face in her little hands, sending jagged bolts of thrill through his entire body.

He'd made himself ask, made himself check that she was ready, and for an answer she'd pulled him in tighter, her tongue tangling with his.

"Oh, god, Sash…" he rasped, his chest heaving like a bellows as he set her down on her feet so that his hands were free to begin undressing her.

His hands shook as he reached for loops on the furs, his thick fingers fumbling on the little buttons until he almost gave up in frustration and tore them off. But he forced himself to calm, to focus on the featherlight trail of her lips on his, the shock of her hands pushing under his furs to find his skin, on the way she arched into him and sucked in a breath when he finally popped the first button.

His mind was a jumble—screaming at him to take her, to own her, to make her his in a way the others could never deny, and yet cautioning, urging for calm, reminding him to savor her, to make this special, because it was the beginning of the rest of her lives.

The two sides of him fought—man against beast, heart against heat—until he shuddered with stifled desire.

Finally popping the last button on her fur jacket, Zev forced himself to slow. The double-breasted front sagged now, both sides dragged towards the floor by the weight of the fur, making a V that revealed the dark shadow between her breasts.

Zev growled and dropped his chin to kiss his way down her jaw, down the column of her neck.

Sasha sighed and arched back, pressing up and into him, the jacket's sides falling further apart, but there was too much fur, too little space between them. It gaped, revealing the inner sides of her breasts, but leaving the peaks tantalizingly hidden.

Somehow she'd already gotten the buttons of his jacket open. He rasped her name again, his entire body shuddering as she ran her hands up from his abdomen, to his chest, then over his shoulders, pushing the jacket back and off, her hands squeezing pressing, exploring as she went.

Zev reluctantly let her go to drop his arms and let the jacket slide to the floor behind him, but he brought them back immediately, one hand at her lower back, holding her close even as he arched her backwards, the other beginning to unwrap her like a Christmas present.

He was kissing her neck when he slid his fingers into the gap between the furs, his hand finding her stomach first, but sliding up.

She sucked in and her head dropped back when he found her breast, cupping it, rolling her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, and every nerve in his body jolted to life at the sheer heat that shot through his veins to be finally touching her.

Sasha groaned his name and clawed her fingers into his hair, pulling him harder into the kiss, her breath racing and frantic.

She was, as she had always been, the light to his fire. He'd forgotten how overwhelming it felt to touch her skin, to inhale her scent. And now, finally, for the first time, there was nothing between them. No parents or guardians to fear. No clans to thwart. No enemies to fight.

Finally, finally, they were alone and safe and Zev wanted to howl with the pure joy of it when she let her head fall back and bared her throat to him.

Taking her weight, letting her lean into his hands, the temptation was there to simply tear off her leggings and plunge into her, hold her to him and own her. But he couldn't. There would be a day for that—a day very soon, he hoped. But this was not that day, this was not that night.

This was the night to cement the bond and show her what he'd yearned to show her for the past five years.

Forcing himself to control, he tore his lips from hers and straightened, pulling her up with him, but staring down at her when her eyes opened in surprise, letting her see the heat in his eyes, making promises with his gaze.

She smiled as he began walking her backwards, towards the bed. Her hands played over his chest and shoulders and she bit her lower lip again.

"I thought you wanted to get clean?" she said, her voice hoarse.

Dammit. She was right. She thought he was joking, but he wasn't. He was covered in oil and paint and blood. As was she. He wanted nothing to mar this night. Nothing to jar them out of what they would share. So he growled—with less pleasure this time—and turned her away from the bed and towards the fire.

Yhet's ice cavern had been a home for years. It was comfortable and relatively warm, considering its location. But it would take time to heat water.

"So, we have two choices," he muttered between kisses as he kept walking her, his hands exploring her sides and back, running his fingers under the waistband of her leggings.

"What are they?" she said breathlessly.

"I can make the fire and warm the water and we can have a real bath—Yhet's bath is big enough for both of us." Her eyes widened and Zev had to force himself to swallow. "Or we can use cold water, then warm up together in bed."

Sasha's breath caught. "How cold is the cold water?"

Zev grinned.