House of Sky and Breath (Crescent City #2) by Sarah J. Maas

“So who was the lucky lady, then?” Or male, she supposed. She’d assumed he preferred females, but it was entirely possible he also—

“A nymph at a bar. She was from out of town and didn’t recognize me.”

Bryce’s fingers curled, as if invisible claws appeared at their tips. “Nymph, huh.”

Was that his type? Exactly like those dancers at the ballet? Delicate and svelte? Had Shahar been like that? Bryce had never searched for portraits of the dead Archangel—hadn’t ever wanted to torture herself like that. But Sandriel had been beautiful as Hel, slim and tall, and Hunt had once mentioned that they were twins.

Bryce added, if only because she wanted him to feel a shred of the misery that now coursed through her, “Lion shifter. In a bathroom at the White Raven.”

“The night of the bombing?” The words were sharp. As if her fucking someone while they’d known each other was unacceptable.

“Less than a week before,” she said nonchalantly, quietly pleased at his sharpness.

“I thought you didn’t like alphaholes.”

“I like them for some things.”

“Oh yeah?” He trailed a finger down her bare arm. “What, exactly?” His voice dropped to a purr. “You don’t seem to enjoy males bossing you around.”

She couldn’t help her blush. “Every once in a while.” It was all she could think to say as his fingers reached her wrist and he lifted her hand, bringing it to his mouth and pressing a kiss to her palm. “This one was especially good at being in charge.”

“All right, Quinlan,” he said against her skin. “I’m thoroughly jealous.”

She chuckled. “So am I.”

He kissed the inside of her wrist, lips grazing over sensitive flesh. “Before we went off on this stupid tangent, I was trying to warn you that it’s been a while, so I might …”

“Be fast?”

He nipped at her wrist. “Be loud, asshole.”

She laughed, running her fingers over his smooth, unmarked brow. “I could gag you.”

Hunt barked out a laugh. “Please tell me you’re not into that.”

She let out a hmmm.

“For real?” He sat up slowly.

She lay back against the pillows, arms behind her head. “I’ll try anything once.”

A muscle throbbed in his neck. “All right. But let’s start with the basics. If that gets boring, I promise to find ways to keep you interested.”

“That doesn’t get rid of the problem of Ithan’s keen hearing.”

He shifted against the bed, and Bryce found the blatant evidence of his interest pushing against his tight boxer briefs. Solas, he was huge.

She laughed softly, sitting up as well. “It really has been a while.”

He trembled, though—with restraint. “Tell me yes, Bryce.”

She went molten at the raw need in his words. “I want to touch you first.”

“That’s not a yes.”

“I want your yes.”

“Yes. Fuck yes. Now your turn.”

She only smirked, pressing a surprisingly steady hand to his bare, muscled chest. He allowed her to push him back against the pillows. “I’ll say yes when I’ve had my fill.”

Hunt let out a low, rough noise.

“Not too late for a gag,” Bryce murmured, pressing a kiss to his chest.

Hunt was going to burst out of his skin. He couldn’t stand it: the sight of Bryce now straddling his thighs, wearing nothing but an old, soft T-shirt, the silken glide of her hair over his bare chest as she pressed a kiss between his pecs. Pressed another near his nipple.

There was another person in this apartment. One with exceptional hearing, and he—

Bryce’s lips closed around his left nipple, wet heat sending Hunt’s hips straining toward hers. She flicked her tongue across the taut bud, and Hunt hissed. “For fuck’s sake.”

She laughed around his nipple, then moved to the other. “Your chest is as big as mine,” she muttered.

“That’s the least sexy thing anyone has ever said to me,” he managed to say.

She dug her long nails into his chest, the pain a light, singeing kiss. His cock throbbed in response. Gods spare him, he wouldn’t last a minute.

Bryce kissed his right ribs. Ran her tongue along the muscles there. “How do you get these stupid muscles, anyway?”

“Exercise.” Why was she talking? Why was he talking?

His hands shook, and he fisted them in the sheets. Syrinx had leapt off the bed, trotting to the bathroom and kicking the door shut with a hind leg. Smart chimera.

Her tongue teased over his left ribs, trailing downward as her fingers traced lines along his chest, his stomach. She kissed his belly button, and her head hovered mere inches from the edge of his boxer briefs, so close he was about to erupt at the sight of it—

“Aren’t we supposed to do some kissing first?” His voice was guttural.

“Absolutely not,” Bryce said, wholly focused on her task. Hunt couldn’t get a breath down as her fingers curled on the waistband of his underwear and peeled it away. He could only let her do it, lifting his hips to accommodate her, baring all of him—

“Well, well, well,” she crooned, sitting up. Hunt almost started whining at the distance she put between that mouth of hers and his cock. “This is a … big surprise.”