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Taming the Hand of Death

Sera

My fingers fanned over Killian’s bare chest. His frame shielded me from the spray of the water as he towered over me, his eyes closed as he pressed his forehead to mine.

Bruises peppered his skin all the way down to his hips. I winced at the sight of his injuries, my chest convulsing painfully as I closed my eyes against the fury that someone had hurt him.

“Sera,” he whispered into my hair. He dragged his hands down over the swell of my hips. “I’m fine.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You could never hurt me.”

He lifted his head, and I tilted my head back to look at his face. His eyes were dark, hooded with fatigue, but his hands rested on my hips and squeezed as he pressed his body against mine.

Every time we’d come together like this it had been hungry, desperate, hard and fast. I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him gently, tasting him, my fingers tracing the angles of his face, of his jaw and neck. I took my time touching him as if memorizing him, burning him into my
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