Page 233 of Blood Curse

Someone in the neighbouring flat coughed.

Bryony’s laugh turned into a gasp when I rolled my hips. I buried my face against her throat, smiling against her skin.

“Thin walls,” she whispered.

I kissed her instead of answering.

I slid one hand between us and circled her clit. Her laughter disappeared. She tightened around my cock, meeting each thrust as the pressure built again.

The room filled with the sound of our breathing, the bed and the rain.

Her orgasm caught suddenly. Bryony arched under me, her pussy clenching in hard waves. I kept the same pace through each one until my control broke.

I came deep inside her, holding her hips against mine while pleasure drove through me.

For several seconds, neither of us moved.

Her heart pounded against my chest. Alive, human and unthreatened.

I had taken her in royal rooms, against old stone and under the attention of magic that wanted to turn desire into another weapon. Here, her sheets were twisted around our legs and a neighbour was pretending not to hear us. Nothing in the room asked us to be more than two people who wanted each other.

The simplicity felt more intimate than any throne.

I eased onto my side and took her with me. She pulled the covers over our legs and rested her head on my shoulder. A car passed outside. Water rushed through the gutter. The neighbour turned the television louder.

I had never heard freedom sound so domestic.

Bryony traced the scar beside my heart. “You’re very quiet.”

“I’m listening to your building fail in several places.”

“It’s got character.”

I kissed the top of her head.

Her heartbeat began to slow under my hand. The change brought back the promise I made before the Crown broke, when eternity still carried the risk of giving that thing another route into her body.

The risk was gone.

The choice remained.

“Bryony.”

She lifted her head.

“If you ever want me to transform you, that future is still open.”

Her expression stilled, though her body remained warm against mine.

I continued before the moment could become heavier than the truth. “I won’t ask you for it. Live with the gate open first. Go back to work. Stay here. Return to Harrowmere because you choose it. If you ask after that, I’ll turn you.”

Her fingers spread over my heart. “You think I need more time.”

“I think time belongs to you now. Use as much or as little as you want.”

She studied me, then looked at our naked bodies under her covers.

“I know what I want,” she said. “But I’m going to ask away from a crisis and away from bed.”