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“Yes, sir.” I grinned, overwhelmed with gratitude. “Thank you,” I said sincerely, feeling a dangerous warmth bubble up inside me. I was falling hard for this man. “Thank you for bringing her here. For taking care of me. The past few days were hard, but you know how to make me feel better.”
He hummed a sound of pleasure, fixing my shirt to cover me once more. “Of course.” Pinching my chin to hold me still, he kissed me. Softly, sweetly.
I felt lost in time, nothing else in the world existed. Until his hand wrapped around my neck, pulling me forward, whispering, “You’re perfect. So beautiful.” His lips languidly explored mine, not hurried. “And each and every orgasm you have is beautiful homage to me. Thank you.”
We lay like that for a long moment until, at the renewed sound of plates clattering, Amara called out, “Breakfast is ready.”
He stood, pulling me up with him. “Enjoy the next few days with her. I have something I have to do now, but I’ll be here tonight.”
“Okay.” I smiled, then looked down at my shirt. There were two wet spots on my breasts, and the bottom half of it was all wrinkled. I looked a mess.
“I’m just gonna……go change.” I mumbled, turning towards the stairs but his hand clasped around the back of my neck, jerking me to him. So close, I was nose to nose with him.
“No more hiding, Summer Duvall. Show the world exactly who you are. Don’t hide your true nature. Your wildness. Your sexuality.” His eyes blazed with sudden seriousness, “And definitely not your relationship to me. Own it proudly. No shame. No fear.” His hand on my shoulder turned me towards the doorway. “Besides, little bunny,” he growled fiercely, “that would defeat the purpose.”
He pushed me into the kitchen and I stumbled forward, frozen as Amara looked up. Her eyes went straight to the wet spots on my shirt.
She was holding the pan, scooping what looked like egg omelets onto three plates. At the sight of me in my current state, she too, froze. She stared at them for a long moment.
Then the heat of Rook’s body pressed against my back, his arm wrapping around my front, his hand around my throat possessively. “Thank you for making breakfast.” His voice a dark rumble that shot straight through to the vee of my thighs. Still.
“You’re…” Amara nodded, lips parted, her eyes on his fingers, which were now playing with my nipple. Red flooded my face at the shocked expression. I could feel his smirk.
Finally, she began sliding the eggs onto the plate with the spatula, quirking an eyebrow upward. “Not like that, huh?”
My cheeks were burning red. “Um,” I didn’t know what to say, how to explain. Then, remembering Rook’s words, I straightened. “You’re right, it is like that.”
“Good girl,” Rook murmured, kissing the top of my head.
There was a sudden sound behind me, and I turned to see a man walking through the front door, a motorcycle helmet in his hands.
“Fallon,” Rook frowned. “I told you I would meet you outside.”
Grey, washed-out eyes took in Rook and shrugged as if to say, got tired of waiting.
“Who’s this?” Amara asked, coming around the kitchen island, her eyes honing in on the man.
He looked so familiar… when suddenly, it hit me.
The Expiarus.
My god, he looked so different.
Instead of the black, starched cassock I’d always seen him in, he was wearing black jeans, T-shirt, and boots. The wall of black was a stark contrast to his pale skin.
He looked like a completely different man.
“This is Fallon,” Rook grumbled, clearly not wanting to introduce him.
“Oh,” Amara tucked silver hair behind her ear, giving him a bright smile. I saw her eyes skirt over his tattoos. “And who is Fallon?”
I stared at her in astonishment, whispering under my breath, “Done with men, huh?”
“Shut it,” she growled, elbowing me, then stepped forward, extending her hand. “I’m Amara.”
Fallon eyed her hand skeptically and, after a long hesitation, met her grip.
He had tattoos crawling up his neck and sleeves on both his arms. The hand currently shaking Amara’s was also marked with a mixture of black and red orchids and moths. The letters GRAVE were tattooed on each finger.
