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“I thought we were meeting at the diner for breakfast,” I say.
He closes the distance between us in a single stride, shoving me against the doorframe and claiming a kiss that has my core tightening and my vision blurring.
“I couldn’t stay away.” His hands ghost down the sides of my body until they grip my waist. His eyes spark with fire and my body prickles with energy in response.
“I’d rather eat here,” he says, dropping to his knees right there in the hall. He doesn’t even pause to look around before his hands slide over my knee-high socks and up under my skirt. I yelp when he reaches the apex of my thighs and presses his thumb against my clit.
“Get up,” I hiss. “I have neighbors.”
His lips thin in a straight line. I feel his nails turn to claws, gently grazing my skin. Then a rip sounds and cool air teases the damp curls between my legs. Midas stuffs my ripped underwear into his pocket.
Heat warms my cheeks with embarrassment, and I shove his immovable shoulders. “You can’t keep shredding my underwear. I won’t have any left.”
“That’s the idea.” A crocodile grin stretches his cheeks. He ducks his head under my skirt, and I squirm to get away, trying to hold him off from his public display. He grabs my hips hard enough to bruise, keeping me in place. A sensual moan breaks past my lips when his tongue presses my clit the same way his thumb did a moment ago.
From under the fabric he says, “I have impeccable hearing. I’ll know if anyone comes near us.”
“Let’s just move inside. It’s right here.”
Still with his head under my skirt and his breath dancing across my pussy, he replies, “Deny it all you want, little gem, but I know you like the risk of getting caught.”
My core clamps around nothing at his words and wet heat drips out of me. My whole body shakes with adrenaline and desire.
“Hurry,” I whisper, surrendering. “Make me come before anyone catches us.”
“That’s my girl.”
Midas works my clit with his tongue until I’m crawling out of my skin, gasping and panting, half afraid and half filled with a lust I’ve never experienced before. I clutch the hem of my skirt in a vice grip, trying to ground myself, to keep myself hidden and Midas sheathed under the fabric. I can’t see what he’s doing, but I can feel the roughness of his tongue as it rubs over my clit, as he laps the flood of my arousal. My head swivels from side to side, scanning the hall. My heart is as loud as the drums last night.
“So sweet,” he murmurs.
I whimper and throw my head back, giving up the fight. Too good. It feels too good. He slides two fingers into me, stretching my pussy as he sucks my clit. The hallway spins, the world lifting into another realm. A noise builds in my throat, but it’s cut off by a sharp command. “Quiet.”
My hand slams over my mouth as my orgasm rips me in two, tearing me down the center, shredding me, ruining me, leaving me shaking and careless. All anxiety about where we are is gone. All anxiety about everything is gone.
I’m putty, ready to be molded to his will. His hands slide down my legs, shaping me, stopping to rest on my ankles as his head ducks out from under my skirt. He looks up at me, adoration and wonder clear in his expression. I run my fingers through the soft strands of his hair.
“Move in with me,” he says in one exhale.
I shake my head, not able to get out the words. It’s too soon, and he knows it. He stands, pressing himself against me, grounding me with his weight. His nose nuzzles my neck. “Alright. Let’s get breakfast.”
“Don’t you…?” His hard cock is easy to feel beneath his slacks, and I don’t want to take without returning the favor.
He laces our fingers together and kisses the inside of my palm. “There will be plenty of time for that. Right now, I want to feed you and get to know you.”
I wrinkle my forehead, barely understanding. I’m used to being the one giving, pouring myself out for everyone else’s needs. Receiving from someone feels selfish, shameful. Doesn't he want me to get him off?
When we get to the diner around the corner, I’m still dazed from my orgasm and confused by his gentle refusal to have me reciprocate the pleasure he gave.
Midas guides me to a booth, sits down, and asks me to move in with him again.
I smile, feeling a little of my confidence return. “Eager, aren’t you?”
“I’m a patient man, but not when it comes to you.” His gaze sweeps over me, making my clothes feel too tight despite the orgasm I just had.
The waitress brings over coffee and waters before I can answer his question, which is good because I’m not sure how to answer. I tossed and turned most of the night, arguing with myself about why this is too fast, why I can’t be a queen, why I shouldn’t subject Finley to a world with dragons. I thought about the scars they all wore so proudly and wondered how they got them. Would Finely even be safe in that world? Would I?
The waitress gives Midas a flirty smile and bats her long eyelashes. “What can I get for you?”
