I tucked myself against Thorn’s broad, solid chest. His musky smell with its trace of smoke filled my nose, and when his arm came around my shoulders, his warmth enveloped me too.
Having him with me like this didn’t make up for Snap’s disappearance any more than the breakfast sandwich had, but in the power coiled through his brawny body, I could feel the certainty that he wouldn’t give up until the devourer was back with us where he belonged.
Thorn held cautiously still for a moment and then allowed his hand to stroke up and down my arm from shoulder to elbow. He tipped his head so his chin rested against my temple. “Snap was incredibly dedicated to our cause—and, from what I saw recently, to you. If he can make it back to us, I doubt he’ll stay away very long. And if those bastards have imprisoned him, we’ll get him back. They didn’t manage to break Omen in all those weeks.”
“I know,” I said. But Snap wasn’t Omen. He meant so well, and he felt things so deeply. “I was startled… and maybe a little scared when I saw his full form. With how horrible he feels about devouring already, he might have convinced himself I think he’s horrible.”
Thorn grunted. “He couldn’t believe that for very long if he’s been paying any attention at all. I’m no expert in affection, but I could see how much you cared for him. He means a lot to you.”
“You all do.” As the words spilled up, the truth of them swelled inside me. When the trio had shown up out of nowhere in my kitchen, I’d seen them as nothing but a hassle. Now, it was hard to imagine going on with regular human life once this was over and never seeing them again.
Thorn’s hesitance to accept the affection I was offering him even after I’d asked him to stay twisted me up inside even more. I raised my head to gaze up into his ruggedly handsome face. “You realize that, don’t you? That if something happened to you—if you left or the Company hurt you—I’d be just as upset as I am over Snap.”
He opened his mouth and closed it again as he appeared to gather his thoughts. His dark eyes held mine. “I don’t have the gentleness and joy the devourer exudes—I can’t offer the incubus’s skill with words or caresses. How could I expect to provoke the same fondness they do?”
I made a dismissive sound. My hand came up so I could trace my fingers over the faint lines of the scars that framed his face. “You know, they’re the outliers. I never really went for cheerful sweethearts or suave smooth-talkers before. Give me a strong silent type any day.”
He grunted doubtfully.
I tapped his cheek. “I’ve seen how much emotion you carry under that stoic front. I’ve never known anyone, human or shadowkind, half as resolute or loyal as you.”
“Only to make up for where I failed in the past.”
“I’m not convinced you actually screwed up so very badly back then in the first place, but believe me, an awful lot of human beings go through their much shorter lives totally disregarding the people they let down along the way.” Or even lashing out at those people as if they were to blame. Thorn—and Ruse and Snap, and maybe even Omen—was worth a thousand Lelands. When you compared him and his vengeful sabotage to them, how could you say the shadowkind were more monstrous?
My tastes might be unusual, but why the hell should I want a generic jerk when I could have a magnificent monster—or, you know, three?
Thorn brushed a lock of my hair behind my ear, the skim of his fingers tingling over my skin. His voice dropped to a husky note that sent those tingles deeper. “You contain plenty of tenacity yourself, m’lady. A steely will and yet so much compassion as well. You were a worthy ally before we knew you had any unearthly power.”
“Only an ally?”
His hand teased along my jaw in answer, tipping up my chin so he could claim my lips. I hadn’t known how much I needed this until I was kissing him back, melting into the planes of his muscular frame.
His mouth branded mine, as determined as if he were pouring all the affection he had for me into that one kiss. His fingers trailed down my back, tucking me closer to him, and my knee slid up over his thigh. A rush of heat flooded me.
Yes. Yes. Just for this moment, I wanted to revel in what I still had instead of brooding over what I’d lost. I wanted to see that steely, compassionate woman Thorn took me for reflected in his eyes.
I shifted even closer, running my hand over his chest, and drew my lips from his just far enough to say in a voice so thick with need I barely recognized it, “Thorn, can we—”
The desire ringing through the words must have said enough before I even finished the question. Thorn grasped me and swung me right onto his lap, capturing anything else I might have said with another kiss. As I straddled him, he stroked my thigh while his other hand tangled in my hair.
I slid forward, and my sex settled against the substantial bulge of his groin. Even through the layers of fabric, the feel of that hardness was enough to make me groan.
I arched into him, extending the friction, and Thorn groaned too. His mouth plundered mine, but there was still a carefulness to the way he held me, even as the squeeze of his fingers around my thigh urged on my rocking against him.
He eased my face back an inch, still close enough that the heat of his breath flooded down my neck. His voice came out strained. “I don’t want to hurt you, Sorsha. This body is made for fighting, not love-making.”
I’d seen how large my warrior was in every area a few weeks ago when he’d sprung out of the shadows nude. The memory only spurred on the ache of need between my thighs. “I think it’s made for whatever you decide to do with it,” I murmured, splaying my hands against his abdomen. “Let me worry about how much I can handle. If anything’s too hard or too fast or too… large”—my palm slid over his erection—“I’ll let you know. But so far I have no complaints.”
“As m’lady wishes,” he breathed in return. It came out like a prayer, so different from the reluctant tones with which he’d once offered that term of respect that delight trembled through me.
I stripped off his tunic, eager to see all that sculpted flesh on display again, and he managed to tug my blouse open above the bandage on my stomach with surprising deftness, though his thick fingers fumbled with my bra. I unhooked it for him and gasped as his hands engulfed my breasts. The swivel of his calloused palms against my nipples raised them to points with a surge of bliss. The sensation shot to my sex, and the lingering pain of my wound hazed away in the wake of that pleasure.
I kissed Thorn again, still rocking against him, the heat between us turning searing. I’d waited too long to get this intimate with the last of my lovers—I had no patience left. My mouth skidded against his lips, a whimper tumbled from my throat at the powerful sweep of his thumbs over my breasts, and then I was groping at the ties of his trousers.
Sweet simmering symphonies, medieval clothing was a devil to unravel. At my muttered curse, Thorn let out a chuckle and flicked the knot loose as if it were nothing—through some supernatural voodoo, I was sure. I didn’t spend much time worrying about it, because the next second I’d delved inside his underclothes to free that massive cock.
It was magnificent, thick and corded with veins and so fucking hard I thought he might explode as I gripped it. His erection twitched at my touch, and a ragged breath shuddered out of the warrior.