Page 59 of Below the Shadow of the City

“You’re probably right,” I laugh.

“Are you good? You’re sort of in a…daze.” He waves his hand in a circle around my face.

“Just thinking,” I answer with a lightness in my voice to throw him off my scent. There’s an endless list of things I’m thinking about, it’s a comically long receipt that keeps printing and printing with no end in sight. Much of that melts away when I feel his presence near me. If only my anxious thoughts could be dulled this easily all the time.

“Hmm, a dangerous thing for a woman such as yourself,” he sets his jaw with a smile and dries another pan. He doesn’t know the half of it.

“You know, this entire cleaning process would be easier if⁠—”

“I had ‘fae magic,’ so I hear,” he wryly chuckles. “The joke doesn’t get funnier the more you tell it, you know.”

“I can certainly try,” I say. He shakes his head and wraps his fingers through my hair, pulling me closer to him.

I glance up at his massive form standing before me. Some days, I forget entirely that he’s something feral and foreign. Right now I’m deeply aware of his “otherness.” I swallow a lump in my throat I didn’t realize was there as he looms before me in the kitchen. Even now, fleeting thoughts wonder if we’re one kiss away from him turning into a handsome prince. I remind myself, he’s already a handsome Prince Charming. Just with a few…additions. I can’t say that I’m all that mad about them.

His tail flicks restlessly as he hums along to the music playing. There’s constantly music in the background of everything we do in this apartment. The first time it started trickling out of every corner of the main living space I naively asked if it was magic. He laughed, guffawed, actually, and said it was an expensive Bluetooth speaker setup. It took far longer than it should have to accept that his existence in the realm below is entirely devoid of any magic.

It feels like something downright magical when he crosses the kitchen and stands above me. His fingers find my waist like his leathery finger pads are magnetic to the curves of my body and he lets out a satisfied sigh. When he touches me warm fog settles in my brain like it’s a harbor on a fall morning, stilling the waves tossing me about. I lean into his touch like it’s the easiest decision in the world.

If I don’t crane my neck my eyes are directly fixed on his massive chest. His shirt strains across it, so taut I could probably bounce a nickel off the fabric. The cotton stretches and strains with each of his movements and it’s a terrible temptress. I wish to whatever deities I can think of that it would split and tatter off of him right now. I bite my lip, and Maddox’s eyes darken into a whirlpool. His nostrils flare, I know he can smell my arousal, though he’s never been so uncouth to mention it.

When I slide the pumpkin pie from the oven and set it on the counter to cool, his hand props against the wall behind me, effectively trapping me before him. Not that I’d even consider running now. When his palm hits the brick I jolt and heat swirls in my stomach. My lips part, and he takes a step closer as his eyes track from my lips back up to my eyes. I stand on my tiptoes to plant a kiss on the tip of his nose. The skin there is soft and pebbled, and always cooler than the rest of him.

“How much time do we have?” He breaks the silence with his playful ask, his deep voice broken up with a jovial lilt. His free hand reaches behind him and he anxiously rubs the back of his head, I watch his fingers run through his mane.

“Two hours until it’s set and cool enough to eat,” I sputter, already having forgotten about the aforementioned pumpkin pie that I slid gently onto a shelf in his fridge. My stomach is in knots, I’m oddly nervous being in his presence. I know what’s going to happen next, and how we’ll be spending at least one of those hours.

“Enough time for an appetizer and a main course, then,” one of his fangs sits higher as he gives me a devious smile. My thighs twitch, and I nod vigorously, my body reacting before I can think to shit talk his incredibly bad joke.

Before I can so much as take a breath, I’m tossed into the air and over his shoulder. I let myself go limp, fighting back is useless, so I give his ass a playful slap since it’s within reach of my fingertips. He laughs wildly and strides down the hallway to his bedroom.

“I can walk, you know,” I huff.

He dismissively grunts in reply, then tosses me atop his bed. “This way is much more fun for me, though. You get all pissed and flustered and pretend to be mad but I know you secretly love being a helpless little maiden swept away by the ferocious creature.”

He leans in and kisses my forehead, I roll my eyes at him. Unfortunately, he’s right. I readjust, ready to let the beast do his worst and ravish me entirely.

His chest finally breaks free of his shirt as he pulls it over his head, and he stands at the foot of the bed, inspecting me. I’m still fully clothed, in leggings and an old t-shirt I didn’t care about getting covered in flour and other baking remnants. Maddox watches me, intently, waiting for me to take the next step. I could feign helplessness and get him to do it, or I could hasten this process and rip my garments off myself. I’m mesmerized by him, the way his shoulders bulge out from his solid chest, and how it tapers down to his narrow waist. His entire body is pure muscle, and I question where the endless desserts he packs away disappear to. My breath quickens again, biology is getting to work.

In layers, I slide each article of clothing off, baring myself for him in the physical, easier, way. Maddox watches, his thumb hooked in the waistband of his boxer briefs. “You are so fucking beautiful,” he purrs.

There’s a twitch in my chest to counter that with a self deprecating joke. I stop myself. It’s easy to deny the words alone, but the way his gaze is focused to me, and the way his eyelids hood lazily, even my most conspiratorial brain can’t dismiss how much he believes the words he’s speaking.

My leggings, shirt, bra, and underwear drop to the floor one by one as I strip them off and hunger grows in Maddox’s eyes. He steps to me, hooking his palms around my waist and his claws dig into the small of my back. He lifts me so my body is pressed against his and he rubs his face against my bare shoulders and sternum, drawing lengthy kisses along my goosebump covered collarbone. My legs hook around his waist, the ridges of his ab muscles tease at my clit. I already know I’m leaving a wet trail on his torso, and all we’re doing is holding each other. I tilt my neck back, giving him more space to cover my skin with his tongue and lips and fangs.

He turns and drops me onto the bed again. I keep my legs spread and he dips his head between them. He presses his thumbs into my thighs as he pushes me further apart. His tongue drags up and down my slit a few times before he thrusts it into me. His nose pushes at my clit as he works his tongue in and out. I’m writhing around on his bed, losing control of myself from the sensation of him tasting me.

His tongue dips in deeper, and I crash. My inner walls pulse around him and my legs shake and he continues to drink me in.

He emerges and grazes his lower lip with his thumb. “If I didn’t need to breathe I could drown myself in you,” he moans. “I could bury myself between your thighs and only taste and smell you and I’d die a perfectly happy man.” He then reaches up and pinches my nipple between two claws and I release a tiny yelp. The sharpness of the action surprises and arouses me and my brain grows fuzzy. He chuckles at my reaction, then climbs up beside me on the mattress, letting his fingers graze over my bare torso. Everywhere is an erogenous zone now, and I shiver.

“Can you get on your hands and knees for me?” He growls against my earlobe after pulling me in for a kiss. A spark is lit between my thighs. Yes, please, anything, my body whines for him. I nod.

Maddox pulls back and cups my face. “I’ve told you, Sigrid. You need to say it.”

“You want me to beg you to fuck me from behind?” I sass.

His thumb brushes across my lips. “Now that you mention it, I do want to hear you beg for it.”