His expression showed zero concern about this poison currently absorbing into my skin, as his palms cupped my face. Heat slammed into me, the fires of his eyes burning bright as he ran his hands across my cheeks. His touch wasn’t smooth; the skin of his palms roughened in sections. I wasn’t sure how that worked for a god with ever-repairing skin, but it was what it was. The worst part was that every time his touch caught on my skin, my stomach did some fucked-up swirl, heat pooling low in my gut.
