He froze. A strangled sound echoed from his throat as he closed his eyes. As he whispered, “Maelea—”
She kissed his temple, ran her fingers through the silky hair at the nape of his neck. “I love that you watched me from your window. I love that you protected me in those caves. I love that you were willing to let me go when those daemons found us, even knowing you might die in the process. I love that you did whatever you had to in the Underworld in order to survive so you could be here with me now. That you’re willing to do whatever you can to keep me safe, even share this horror with me. Because that’s what it is, Gryphon. It’s horrible, awful, wretched, and vile what they did to you. And it wasn’t your fault. None of it was your fault.”
A tear slipped from the corner of his eye, one she captured with her lips. One laced with pain and heartache she felt all the way to the depths of her soul. “And if you think, for even one second, that you aren’t brave enough, aren’t strong enough, aren’t everything any woman would want and need, then you’re wrong. You’re so very wrong. I want you. I need you.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I love you, Gryphon.”
His arms closed around her with such force, it drew a gasp from her lips. He buried his head against her neck while she wrapped one arm around his shoulder, the other around the back of his head, and held him close, sifting her fingers through his hair, feeling the beat of his heart against her own. He didn’t make a sound, but she felt the tears on her skin, felt his big, strong body shake with the power of so many pent-up emotions. And in the silence between them, she closed her eyes and just held on while he let them out. While she gave him what strength there was inside her.
All her life she’d been alone. Even the few times she’d been in love, she’d still been alone, because she’d never opened herself all the way. She’d never admitted who she really was, never confessed her hopes and dreams, never shared her soul. This time, she would. This time, everything was different.
“I won’t go after Zagreus,” she whispered. “I’ll go wherever you want me to go. Do whatever you need me to do. All I want is you, Gryphon. For a few years, for as long as we’ve got together. If, that is, you want me too.”
He lifted his head from her shoulder. Tear streaks ran down his cheeks. His eyes were damp and bloodshot. But the haunted look, the dead look, was finally gone. In its place were the softest, bluest, sweetest eyes she’d ever seen.
“Sotiria,” he whispered, framing her face with his hands, brushing his thumb over her own tear to wipe it away. “I used to dream of you. Of the one person who would touch my heart and make me whole. I just didn’t expect her to show up when I was half the man I used to be. Orpheus may have saved my soul from the Underworld, but you…you saved me from myself. I will always, always just want you.”
His mouth closed over hers before she could draw another breath. And though he kissed her with those sweet and tempting lips just as he had before, she felt the hesitation, felt the worry lingering beneath.
She needed to show him nothing had changed. She needed to prove to him just how much everything he’d told her only made her love him more.
Her hands slid down to his arms, then gently she eased away from his mouth, moved out of his grasp, and stepped back toward the couch, the whole time keeping her eyes locked on his.
He watched her with longing and fear. A fear she wanted to erase forever.
She gripped her long-sleeved T-shirt at the hem, pulled it over her head, dropped it on the floor at her feet. Then she flicked the button of her jeans, slid down the zipper, pushed them partway down her hips.
Desire flared in his damp eyes. A desire she wanted to stoke to a full-blown flame.
She turned, bent over at the waist, shimmied out of her jeans so he had a nice, clear view of her backside. They hit the floor near her shirt. Then she unclasped her bra, let it fall in her hands, looked over her shoulder as she held it out so he could see, and dropped it as well. His eyes were locked right where she wanted them—on her body. His face was flushed with desire and need. She slid her fingers into the lace at her hips, started to push them down. His gruff voice stopped her.
“Don’t.”
Her heart pounded hard as he moved close. His gaze ran over her, from the top of her head, down her back, hovered on her ass. But she couldn’t read his expression from this angle. Didn’t know what he was thinking. He barely moved, barely breathed as he continued to study her in the firelight.
“Gryphon…”
He slid to his knees. Pushed her hands away from her hips. Finally whispered, “Let me.”