Her expression shifts, but I don’t take the time to read it. I press my mouth to hers, fully open, tongue seeking. My hard body softens the instant I feel her stiff limbs melt for me. I gather her up, spreading her thighs around my hips and grinding my cock against her center.
“Why didn’t you answer your phone?” I say on tortured breaths.
“I ...” She shakes her head. “I lost it.”
“Youlostit?” I hiss. That’s a lie if I’ve ever heard one. I grab her hair and wrench her head back.Easy,I remind myself.
She whimpers, scrambling, “I ... left it in the cab.”
“What company? I’ll have my people get it back.” My gaze is narrowed and heated. I don’t know why she’s lying to me. Where was she?
“Don’t bother. The guy was an asshole.” Her hands are on my chest, beating on it pitifully. “Please ...”
“No. This is not thepleaseI want from you.” I shake her head.
She winces, gloss forming on her eyes, and I don’t like that either. I grind my hips against her harder, and she gasps and licks her lips. But when I lean in to meet her heat, she contradicts herself and begs, “Nirvana.”
I jerk back. “What?”
“Nirvana,” she says, sagging in my grip in a way that spells defeat with all capital letters. I’ve never seen her like this before. So ... drained. “I want to—you know I want to be a monster slut for you. But I can’t take a punishment right now, Taranis ...”
“Darius,” I snarl.
“It’s hard to remember you aren’t Taranis when you’re yelling at me.”
I release her hair and she lifts her head. The strain in her expression bothers me more than I like. My whole body stiffens. LikeI’vebeen electrocuted. I stroke the outside of her bare arms. She’s cold as ice. “What happened? And don’t lie.”
She shifts her gaze from side to side as if debating lying, then exhales. “Cynthia got into a car accident last night and landed in the hospital. My mom was calling me, remember?”
I frown, hardly remembering that at all.
“My mom was so stressed I didn’t even bother stopping at my apartment to get shoes or my wallet. Or my car.” I start to set her down, but the moment her feet hit the ground she winces. “Ow.”
“You’re hurt?” The next breath she takes is shaky, and my stomach bottoms out at the sound of it. “Don’t you dare cry.” My front teeth are clenched. My spine is ramrod straight. “How are you hurt?”
“I’m not, really. My feet are just really sore. I walked here.”
“From where? Which hospital?”
“Central . . .” she says slowly.
I fucking choke. “That’s three miles at least.” My horns alight.
She rears back like I really am gonna hurt her, and I. Hate. All of it. “It’s not a big deal. Cynthia is okay ... except for two broken legs ...”
“I don’t give a fuck if Cynthia’s okay.” I struggle to control my volume as I snatch her up in a cradle hold and carry her down the hallway toward her living room. “I don’t care if Cynthia got turned into a fucking toad or was kidnapped for ransom.”
Monika winces when I say that.
“You don’t even like her,” I add.
“I did it for my mom. She was really freaking out. And they haven’t been able to get hold of Cynthia’s mom. I’m glad I went.”
“You should have fucking told me. Texted me. Something.” Holding her with one hand around her back, my tail beneath her knees, I use my free hand to grab her by the cheeks.
“You’re right,” she says through lips puckered like a fish’s. “I just ... didn’t think about it, and I didn’t want to wake you up. You were snoring.”
I squeeze a little harder. “I don’t snore.” She grunts out what sounds dangerously like a laugh even as tears surface again in her eyes. “Stop that.”
