COOKIE BURROWED UNDER the velvety covers, getting comfortable on the soft mattress. Fatigue owned her, one hundred percent. Or maybe ninety. Apprehension had a piece of her, too. But she had no fight left, too exhausted to think, much less resist Kaysar’s commands. She couldn’t even ready her best or worst defenses against his appeal.
Cookie wanted to cut herself a little slice of Kaysar.
After Nick, she’d considered herself invulnerable to romance, her heart locked in a stronghold, protected by dragons. Somehow, the enigmatic and ferocious Kaysar was scaling her towers, making her wonder and want and wish. What would a relationship with him be like? Or at least a roll in the hay?
Hunger abated for the first time in days, she should have no trouble sleeping. But each time her mind began its shutdown, a thought about Kaysar popped up, inviting others. She alternated between being too cold and too hot.
Her dark king remained near the hearth, breathing with force, as if he struggled with a choice.
“Are you planning to watch me sleep?” she asked, curious.
“Maybe.”
He’d been mostly quiet since they’d entered the outpost. Now, firelight bathed him, outlining his powerful body and illuminating the lines etched into his forehead. He was opening and closing his hands at his sides. An action he had performed before.
What thoughts tumbled through his mind?
“Kaysar?”
“I’m sleeping with you. Only sleeping.” He stalked across the room, stopping here and there to snuff out the lamps. As darkness thickened, she thawed, glad for the reprieve. “Tonight,” he intoned, “you rest, nothing more. So rest hard. You might not get another chance.”
A warning? Or a promise? She couldn’t tell.
He paused at the side of the bed, and she held her breath. Would he strip?
Clothing rustled. He unfastened his belt. Dang it. He was stripping, but she couldn’t see. Why hadn’t he left at least one lamp on?
The mattress dipped as he stretched out beside her, his drugging scent filling her nose.
Would he make a move, despite his claim? Did she hope he would?
Either way... “Don’t expect cuddles,” she warned. “I hate cuddling, snuggling, canoodling, and everything in between.”
“I would rather die,” he replied with a shudder.
“Good.” Right?
“Good,” he echoed.
Minutes passed, neither of them moving. Outside, a great wind blustered and a shutter slammed.
Remembering how amazing she’d felt in his arms, she inched toward him. Not to cuddle, just to...touch. Connection with another. At the last second, she thought better of it and rolled to her back. But the desire only magnified, until she tossed and turned, miserable.
When she could stand it no longer, she whispered, “Kaysar?” Was he still awake?
“Yes, Chantel?” The rough rumble caressed her ears.
“Try to survive this, okay?” She draped her body over his. He hissed in a breath as she rested her cheek over his heart. His racing heart. He wasn’t immune to her nearness. She burrowed closer.
“Chantel?” he said, the tightness of his voice rousing dread.
Ugh. Was he about to order her to move?
“Do your best to endure this, all right?” He tentatively wrapped his arms around her, holding her close.
Oh. Ohhh. His heat lured her to total relaxation at long last, her muscles suddenly the consistency of jelly. The trials of the day faded. This. This was far better than tossing and turning. From now on, she never wanted to sleep any other way.
So much had happened to her these past few days, she’d needed an anchor in a storm.
“Mmm. You feel amazing,” she said, embarrassed that she slurred. Not just exhausted. Drunk on him.
“You feel...” He hesitated, toying with the ends of her hair.
Her eyelids grew heavy, attempting to slide shut as she awaited his verdict. She fought the deluge of lethargy with everything she had. Will squeeze every drop of enjoyment out of this.
“Necessary,” he whispered, filling the silence.
Sleep? Suddenly impossible. Had she ever been necessary to another person?
Longing as potent as newly popped champagne fizzed inside her, going straight to her head. Wait. Necessary? To a man she’d known a handful of days? No way. He didn’t need her, and she didn’t need him. She didn’t need anyone, and that was that.
Why would she let herself need a man? Nothing lasted forever.
Needing a distraction, she asked the first question to fill her head. “Are you a terrible king? The way those people ran...”
Tension invaded their little haven. “Finally, you show interest in me, and this is what you seek to learn?”
Finally? He’d wanted her to get personal? An unexpected wisp of pleasure unfurled. One wildly invasive interrogation, coming up.
“You’ve spent the day with me,” he said, grumbling a little. “What kind of king do you think I am?”
Easy answer. “Cunning. Expectant. Difficult. Complicated. Liberal with orders. Quick with complaints. Unafraid of consequences.” Everything he’d been with her. Perhaps a bit...mad at times, too.
More than once but less than a baker’s dozen, he’d sliced his own forearm to ribbons, leaving a blood trail a mile long. Sometimes he’d muttered, “Study the map,” over and over like a mantra.
“I am all of those things and more, so of course there is no better king in the realm.” He sounded prideful, and it was amazingly sexy.
If exhaustion hadn’t ruled her, she might have done something about that sexiness. But only might. Despite the other reasons to remain platonic, one-night stands weren’t her thing. Or however-long-night stands. She and Kaysar wouldn’t be together more than a few weeks. A month or two tops. Maybe? Probably?
She’d grown up hanging out online with much older gamers. Too often, they’d bragged about their conquests, all man is god, woman is whore. If they acknowledged the woman at all. Most they’d dismissed as unimportant. Forgettable. No, thanks. Cookie had wanted—still wanted—more. To be essential to someone. If only for a little while. Even if she didn’t let the other person become essential to her.
“How old are you?” she asked.
“Thousands of years.”
“Ah. That wonderful age when you start counting in adjectives. I believe you’ve reached what’s known as decrepit.”
“I am not decrepit.” His tone suggested he currently pursed his lips.