Perhaps she’s looking for her white knight from the park, wondering if I’ve finally come to claim her.
Fearingit, as she damn well should.
The thought of making her tremble sends a dark thrill straight to my balls, and my human glamour ripples with the ancient magic holding it together. The real me is eager to come out and play.
Her neighborhood is quiet at this hour, all the happy little babies tucked into bed by their happy mums and dads, so fuck it. Keeping to the shadows, I give my surroundings a quick scan, then drop the glamour and let my true form stretch to fill the darkness.
If my little scarecrow saw me like this…
I nearly bust a gut at the idea. If the seven feet of muscle and massive leathery wings didn’t scare her the fuck off, the horns and tail would certainly get the job done proper.
Gargoyles? We’re not supposed to exist. Problem is, we do. What’s left of us, anyway.
But my girl doesn’t need to know that yet. All in due time.
These days, patience is a severely under-cultivated skill. Me? I’m old school. Reckless and impulsive most of the time, sure. But when something’s worth the wait, my patience is damned legendary. Just ask any traitorous cunt who’s had the pleasure of regaining consciousness after a beating, only to find himself chained up in my basement with his bodily fluids leaking onto my floor.
Death by a thousand cuts is the ultimate test of a killer’s patience.
And this girl? Fuck. She’s the reason patience is such a bloody virtue.
So as badly as I want to fly up there, smash through that window, and put her on her knees for me, I’ll wait until she’s ready. Until I’msureshe won’t run off. Even if I have to show up here again and again, play our little game every night for another month. Six. Hell, I’d do it for a whole year if I had that much time left.
Drae doesn’t think so. According to his calculations, unless we break the fucking curse, we’ve got about two months before it all goes to shit. And trust me when I say there areplentyof things worse than death for an immortal fucking monster.
Like being trapped in our statue forms for eternity—fully conscious—rather than just turning to stone while the sun’s out.
Like being forced to watch the rest of our kind get pulverized into dust.
A rusty old ache stabs at my heart, but I don’t have time for it.
Right now, there’s only one rock-hard thing about me, and it’s gotnothingto do with some bullshit dark fae curse andeverythingto do with the girl upstairs.
Resting her forehead against the glass, my little scarecrow slides a hand down along her bare belly, hooking a thumb into the waistband of her panties.Mmm.White lace, this pair. Tiny pink bow at the top.
Back and forth her naughty thumb glides, driving me wild with every stroke. Her eyes drift closed as she tips her head back and sighs, one hand pressed flat against the glass, the other working its way lower, her back arching just so.
I’d give just about anything for a glimpse of her thoughts. Does she know I’m out here? Does she get off on the idea of being watched?
Does she have any idea what she’s fucking doing to me?
I swear to the fucking devil I can almostfeelher touch. Her small hand wrapped around my dick, eyes wide and scandalized as I command her to get on her knees, open her mouth, and…
Just fuckingtakeit…
Pulling my wings close around me, I fist my dick with a tight grip, my gaze never leaving that window. That fucking girl.
Her eyes have haunted my dreams all month. Not even the feds or Drae’s worries about the curse can break the spell this girl’s got me under, and I don’t want them to. From the moment I laid eyes on her in the city, I’ve wanted her.
And one way or another, I’ll make her mine.
Her fingers continue their quest, finally dipping inside the panties as her mouth parts on a soft little moan only a supernatural beast could hear at this distance.
Grateful for my highly attuned senses, I stroke myself harder, faster, still imagining the feel of her soft pink lips, her velvet-smooth tongue, the scrape of her teeth as she takes me all the way in…
That’s it, darling. Just like that. God, you’re so fucking good…
I fight the urge to close my eyes, focusing entirely on her. On the fog of her breath against the glass. The smudge of her damp handprint. The pretty way her cheeks darken with lust.
