“I also ate the last slice of tiramisu.”
“The horror,” I breathed. “You, sir, are a monster.”
“Now tell me your secret.”
“I prefer Coke to Pepsi.”
“That’s not a secret.”
“Neither is the disappearing act my food has learned since you moved in with me.”
We both tensed, and my stomach dropped into my feet.
Moved in sounded so…permanent. If he brushed it off as a sleepover, I didn’t know what I would do.
“I like living with you.” He pressed his lips to my throat. “I like sleeping with you.”
Heat curled through my gut, and my chest went tight. “I’ve noticed.”
Resting his forehead on my shoulder, he laughed softly. “I noticed you noticing.”
Hard to resist the invitation pressing against my backside every dusk.
Very hard.
Very, very hard.
Phew, it was getting hot out here.
“Thank you for this.” I leaned my cheek against the side of his head. “I needed it.”
Angling his chin, he spoke against my throat. “How did you know what to do? With the heart?”
The pleasant buzz from the brush of his mouth on my skin helped me keep my nerve. “Bishop.” From what I could tell, his stomach was cast iron. Mine? Not so much. “He sent me autopsy videos to watch.”
I had thrown up. A lot. A whole lot. It was necessary, though. I couldn’t afford to damage the hearts.
“I can’t talk about it more right now.” I swallowed the excess saliva pooling in my mouth. “That okay?”
“You don’t have to ask me.” He withdrew. “You know your limits.”
No matter how much I wished otherwise, I blew out a sigh. “We can’t hide out here forever.”
“The city can wait.” He guided me back into the cabin to the bed. “Just a little while longer.”
Seven
The weight of the witchborn fae heart I had taken still pressed on mine when I woke at moonrise to Midas wrapping me in his arms like the tortilla to my burrito, but I had felt the burden shift during the day, so that Midas and I shared its load.
Mmm. Not gonna lie. A loaded burrito sounded good right about now.
Ambrose paced along the far wall and jerked his head toward me when he sensed my attention.
Last night had gone sideways, in all ways, and I wasn’t sure what to do about any of it today.
Bishop owed me answers for his link to Blithe, given her connection to Greenleaf and Greenleaf’s connection to Faete. We had to check in with Gayle to see how the Mendelsohn wargs were recovering. We also had to track down the missing teens, if they hadn’t returned home.
The overwhelming urge to turn into Midas’s warmth, bury my face in his chest, and forget the world hit with dizzying force.
Ambrose, who appeared unimpressed with the lack of people to watch in the forest, sat on the bed.
Without features, I couldn’t read his expression, but I didn’t need a clearer picture than what he fed me through our bond.
“We need to get moving,” I murmured to him in reluctant agreement. “Break over.”
Midas grumbled and turned onto his back. “All right.”
“Thinking out loud.” I grimaced as I shifted onto my opposite side to face him. “Sorry about that.”
“I’m getting used to you waking me up at ungodly hours.”
“I’m up at dusk like any respectable necromancer.”
“That’s the equivalent of Mom rising with the dawn.” He squinted over at me. “You’re both nuts.”
“Goldie, you’re the one who climbed into bed with me first. You invited yourself into my crazy. All I did was make room for you.”
“You have soft sheets,” he mumbled through a yawn, “and you smell nice.”
“I could spritz my deodorant onto a set of sheets and have them dropped here for you.”
“Grr.”
“Did you just say grr?” I dug my fingers into his ribs until he laughed. “What kind of gwyllgi are you?”
“A sleepy one.” He rolled off the bed to escape. “You think it’s cute when Samzilla does it.”
“Breathing is cute when Samzilla does it.” I scooted into his spot. “I might have to save myself for him.”
This time, the growl he turned on me was real. “You are mine.”
The thrill zinging down my nerve endings would only encourage more dominant behavior, so I nipped it in the bud with reluctance. “I’m actually mine, but you’re cute for thinking so.”
The way he tugged on his hair would leave him with bald spots one day. “Hadley.”
“You’re jealous of a toddler. Let that sink in.” I paused for effect. “He’s like two. Or three. I suck guessing kids’ ages.” I should have let it drop, but I was having too much fun yanking Midas’s tail. “Now his dad…” I chuckled evilly. “He’s one hot—”
Midas pounced on me, pinned me to the bed, and I screamed until my throat burned with laughter.
A snarl revving in his throat, he delivered punishing bites to the tender skin of my neck while I kicked my legs and tickled his ribs until his chuckles interrupted his feasting. The way he smiled, so happy and light, I couldn’t have resisted him if I tried. And I didn’t. Not even a little.
I fused our mouths together and answered hunger for hunger. He lowered his hips into the cradle of mine, and I arched into his first thrust. The fabric of my dress, of his jeans, did nothing to hide his need. I twined my fingers in his hair and rocked against him, keeping him too busy to stop and overthink it.
“Hadley,” he groaned. “I…”
“Shh.” I visited stinging kisses along his jaw until I reached his favorite spot, and then I bit him until I tasted blood and sweat and his surrender. “I’ve got you.”
Midas shuddered, his hips gone loose, and I wrapped my arms and legs around him to hold him through his release.
A long while later, when his breaths lengthened from jagged pants against my cheek, I leaned back and searched his face. “Are you okay?”
“I don’t know.” He attempted to withdraw, to escape, but I was stubborn, and I felt in my bones if he got away, he wouldn’t come back. “I haven’t…” He ducked his head. “It’s been a long time since…”
“Oh, I didn’t mean that.” I licked the wound shaped like my teeth. “You’re bleeding.”
Midas touched his fingers to the side of his throat then examined the red stain.
“Oops?”
The crinkle of his forehead deepened, and then it relaxed. “You marked me.”
“Yup.” I didn’t ease my grip, I tightened it. “What are you going to do about it?”
A gleam brightened his eyes, and he lowered his head, teeth on display, ready for payback.
Squirming beneath him, I could hardly wait for my turn.
Three punishing knocks rang through the small room as a visitor pounded on the door.
“Ignore them,” I whispered, aware whoever was out there could hear. “Maybe they’ll go away.”