He gave me a comforting squeeze, and I felt his fingertips against my bare stomach. With a start, I looked down and realized that I’d turned my hand over, folding my fingers in the spaces between his. Emotion lodged in the place where words usually formed, and I could only nod in response. Oliver shifted. A moment later I felt his arm move, and he put it beneath my head.
An involuntary sigh left me. The hum of the heater, the faded glow, the body heat and blankets—it felt like we were in our cottage again. Back where everything was familiar and safe. My eyelids fluttered once. Twice. The third time, they stayed shut. The imprint of the space heater lingered for a second or two, then darkness. Lovely, peaceful darkness.
As I waited to drift into nothingness, those words replayed in my head, spoken in the voice of my younger self.
Monster, monster, come out to play. Monster, monster, I’ve been waiting all day.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Laurie’s scent was all around me as I opened my eyes to darkness.
The fire had burned down to embers, and there was no other light in the room. I shivered as I noticed how much the temperature had dropped. Now that I was a Nightmare again, the cold shouldn’t have bothered me so much. I had a feeling it was more psychological than physical.
It was becoming difficult, pulling my mind out of the dreamscape every time I woke up. This was the real world, I reminded myself. So why did it feel like part of me had stayed in that small tent with Oliver? Restless, I shifted onto my side and stared at Laurie, but it was too dim to see the details of his sleeping face. Even his breathing was silent.
Wishing I could go for a run, I left the bed and crossed the room. Air whispered over my bare skin. Shivering, I knelt in front of the hearth and eyed the faded glow at its center. After a moment, I cast around for any objects or tools I could use. There was a set of pokers hanging on an iron rack. With silent, delicate movements, I removed one and used it to stoke the embers.
I wasn’t sure what made me turn—maybe it was that sense of being watched. When I saw Laurie’s eyes were open, his face turned toward me, I wasn’t surprised. His hair, the color of a moonrock, was all raked to one side and lent it that casually tousled look.
“Did I wake you?” I asked quietly. It didn’t make sense that I was trying to be quiet now, after I’d just filled the tunnels with my cries, but it was habit. At home, there was always someone sleeping in another room. A reason to keep our voices hushed.
Yet another pang of homesickness resounded through me, then, and I tried to distract myself by putting the poker back.
“I’m a light sleeper,” was all Laurie said.
That fit, I thought. It made sense that he only ever hovered at the edge of sleep, instead of submerging. Collith was the dreamer, and Laurie was the schemer.
“Come back to bed,” he said suddenly. The words weren’t a command, and there was no note of persuasion in that silken voice. It was a promise, I thought as I stood, the newly-revived firelight flickering around my naked body. I knew that if I got back into that bed, more awaited me. More Laurie, more fucking, more complications.
I walked toward him without hesitation.
The instant I rested my knee on the edge of the mattress, Laurie wrapped his fingers around my wrist and pulled me down. Curious to see what he would do, I twisted and landed on my back.
In a single, graceful movement, Laurie settled on the lower half of my body. His eyelashes cast shadows on his cheeks as he focused downward. He kneaded my thighs with his fingers, displaying that strength I kept forgetting about. The strength I suspected that I’d never forget again. Then, slowly, he bent and kissed his way down one inner thigh, caressing my skin with brief nips and sucks. I felt his tongue, too, the tip teasing that most sensitive part of me. I gasped, opening my legs wider in an instinctive movement, but then Laurie was gone. He started making his way back up the other side, doing the same things with his lips and tongue.
My core ached, and at some point, I’d bitten my wrist to stop myself from begging. At the apex of my thighs, Laurie stopped and raised his head. Our gazes met, and he smirked, his eyes gleaming. Seeing that, I realized he was doing this on purpose. Torturing me. Making me frantic for more.
Oh, you bastard, I thought with another rush of arousal. I’d forgotten about Laurie’s wicked streak. The part of him that could never resist stirring the pot or causing a bit of chaos. I should’ve expected it would apply to the bedroom, as well.
We stared at each other for another beat. My breathing was slightly uneven. Then, still keeping his eyes on mine, Laurie lowered his face. His tongue dragged up my clit, exploring it, learning me. I let out a long, breathy moan, my palms flattened on either side of me, as if I were bracing myself.
I still wasn’t prepared for it when Laurie’s mouth closed around my clitoris and gave it a hard suck. Within seconds, I was desperate to come, wanting to buck my hips into Laurie’s beautiful face, but his hands pressed firmly against my hip bones and urged me to wait, to savor, to fully experience the moment as he was.
Holy shit, this faerie knew what he was doing.
For minutes, or maybe hours—time lost meaning in the blissful haze of Laurie’s administrations—he brought me to the edge of orgasm, only to coax me back downward, teasing. Then he yanked me back to that precipice. Sounds tore from my throat, mindless and pleading. I held onto the sheets as if I were falling… and then I was.
It was the most shattering climax I’d ever had.
I couldn’t form thoughts or words. There was only sensation. Waves of pleasure. Heat and light. Once it finally came to an end, I opened my eyes, dazed, and saw that Laurie was sitting upright now, expertly rolling a condom onto his erection. He picked up my legs and propped them against his hips, then cocked his head at me and went utterly still. He was waiting for a signal, I realized. An indication that I wanted this.
Giving Laurie a contented smile, I reached up and ran my hand down the length of his hard stomach.
That small movement was all he needed.
I was so wet that his cock slid inside me effortlessly. I gasped at the size of him, and Laurie let out the quietest of sighs, as if he were overcome by it, too. A second later, he pulled out and slammed back in, causing the feeling to erupt all over again. And again. And again. With every thrust, my head thudded against the headboard. For some reason, I liked it. I liked the roughness and the urgency. There was a hard edge to Laurie’s lovemaking. No, not lovemaking, I thought dimly. This was pure, delicious fucking.
Without warning, Laurie pulled out and his cock fell away. I was about to protest when he grabbed my hips and flipped me over so I was on my knees. “Not done with you yet,” he breathed.
I arched my back instinctively, opening myself to him, and his growl rumbled through me before Laurie drove himself back inside. I buried my face in the pillow to smother a cry. In this position, it felt like his cock was touching the most sensitive part of my entire body. A familiar sensation prickled through my lower stomach.
Then Laurie tugged me upright, shifting us so my back pressed against his sweat-dampened chest. Within seconds, he was thrusting again, one arm lodged beneath my breasts and the other on my clit. As he rocked back, then in again, his capable fingers touched and coaxed. I was lost in sensation—my head tipped back and rested on his shoulder. I met Laurie thrust for thrust as he added a third finger. This time, there was no pillow to hold back my cries. They shattered the air, again and again, making our sex feel even more urgent and erotic. Then, with his middle finger, Laurie began to stroke, long and deep, hitting just the right spot.