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“Lightheart…”
His arms were around me, working to help pump out the water I’d gulped. When I coughed the water out and inhaled air, tangible relief bowed his wings low.
“Lightheart, forgive me. Please. I didn’t know… Hells,” he kept his arms around me. He nudged my ear as I worked on keeping air flowing through my lungs. “I didn’t think.” He groaned with weighted regret, refusing to pull away even for a moment. “Please tell me you’re alright. Please…”
I nodded, blinking water out of my eyes. I rubbed his arm assuringly.
“Yes, I’m alright. That was… whoa. I’ve never experienced that before.”
I turned to look up at him. Tiny flecks of gold sparkled in his eyes as they twinkled under the light of the suns. He looked like an ancient god come back to life. He brushed a strand of hair behind my ear, still checking to see I really was alright. It was then I remembered our proximity. His groan against my skin. The hungry, feverish kisses. How my hips were pressed against the warmth of his growing need… stark naked.
I felt him then.
All of him.
A spike of arousal tightened the bundle of nerves between my legs. I thought back to when I first saw Zhèmson, asleep in his bed, lost in his dreams. Now, he floated in the waters behind me, unashamed at our display of growing passion. He dipped his head over my shoulder, his hair tumbling down my chest. I pressed into him, softly petting his hair. For once, held within the grasp of a male, I wasn’t frightened or disgusted. I didn’t feel I was a means to an end. Something to pass the time until something better, something permanent, came along.
I looked into Zhèmson’s eyes. The adoration in his gaze melted my heart. I felt, more than knew, I was safe. Cherished. I didn’t have to run from my darkness with him. I could face it, heal from it, and move on. Wrapped in his arms, I had nothing to be ashamed of. Turning to him fully, I wrapped my arms around his neck and legs around his waist.
“I don’t know how to swim, and I’m pretty sure there’s a monster down there waiting to turn me into lunch, but I’d love to learn.”
He laughed, snorting with hilarity, his dimples and canines showing.
“It’s probably Zarathos. He’s as big as he is harmless. If you kept sinking, he would have rushed to come get you to the surface.” He looked at the water, chuckling to himself at some memory, before lifting his eyes back to me. Tenderness flooded his vision as he held onto me like a precious treasure. “It would be a delight to teach you, Lightheart.”
Zhèmson pulled me into an embrace, securely cupping me within the folds of his wings. Then he stretched out the full length of his body and began demonstrating different kinds of strokes. I found them all odd. How could these silly movements of arms and legs possibly keep me afloat in this body of water?
“You can strum your arms in a forward fashion, pulling and tugging through the water, one arm at a time. This allows you to swim forward with your head down while remaining above the surface.”
Then he dove just beneath the waterline. He stroked his arms as if cupping a large ball, before fanning outward. He did the same with his legs. Zhèmson popped his head up from the water, checked I was still upheld by his wings, shook his hair, and looked at me.
“Should you be underwater, ballooning strokes are a better way to navigate. That, or fanning both legs while keeping them together, moving them in an almost fin-like manner.”
“This all looks and sounds so very complicated.” I crossed my arms, raising a brow. “All of that just to cut through some water.”
“There’s also the option of you flopping like a fish and eventually drowning.”
I narrowed my eyes at him.
Zhèmson flashed his teeth.
“Are you going to sit there and pout? Or will you actually try it?”
I looked at the water, then at Zhèmson, and back at the water.
I was a fae of Elèor that survived the shady streets of Kairyen. How hard could some underwater strokes be? If I could handle the Un’Sèlie Court, I rotting sure would learn to swim. I ignored the fact that just minutes ago, I almost drowned.
I unwound myself from Zhèmson’s wings and flopped into the water. Remembering how he stroked his arms and legs, I repeated the motion. It took several tries. I could hear him close by, cackling at my efforts. I only grew determined. Eventually I got somewhere. It was a strain on my muscles, but stroking through the water felt good.
Zhèmson lowered himself beneath the surface and began swimming next to me. He restrained himself so I wouldn’t be overwhelmed, and his strength wouldn’t overpower me.
We circled each other, playfully splashing the other before diving again.
He was powerful and handsome, yet tender and attentive. A deep, primal need for him furrowed in my belly. A longing for more budded. I’d never been one to dream about silly things like love. Look at the hand it dealt Mother. Yet, with just the two of us here, swimming, playing, enjoying one another, I realized the opportunity was looking me in the face. And I wasn’t sure I’d deny its call.
When we popped up for air a final time, Zhèmson pulled me to him with a wing. The suns had begun their descent, starlight shining against the glorious horizon.
“Lightheart.” His voice was a husky breath. Embers danced in his amber and pale eyes. “I hurt profoundly if I’m lost, but worse, if I’m not ever had at all. I can be difficult to display, and so easy to overlook. I’ve been restrained from many until I was finally given to you.” The suns silhouetted his frame, amplifying the light of his eyes. I burned beneath it, my heart racing. “My beautiful, brilliant, Lightheart. What am I?”
