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“So he bought more of them?”
Mircea nodded. “I think he enjoys seeing everyone have to wind their way through them.”
“But . . . you still don’t step on them,” I pointed out.
“With Kit, it is always best to err on the side of caution.”
Great.
I let my head rest on his shoulder.
We just stayed like that for a while.
I had a ton of questions, and he probably did, too. And there were so many things we needed to talk about that I’d lost count. But I didn’t want to do that right now. I didn’t want to do anything. Except sit here like this, just like this, because how often did we get downtime anymore? How often did we get a chance to be just us, just Mircea and Cassie, instead of senator and Pythia? How often did we get a chance to be together at all?
I realized that I’d missed him this last week, or whatever it had been. With time travel, I never knew exactly how much time had passed anymore. But I knew I’d missed the sound of his voice, the feel of his hands, the way he had of immediately making things seem easy, simple, right. The feeling of comfort and security that enveloped me like a warm blanket whenever we were together. I’d missed this, I thought, as he kissed my neck.
And then bent me backward over the chair arm to kiss my breast instead.
Sharp fangs scraped across the nipple, not enough to hurt, just enough to let me know he could. It furled tight, tight under his tongue, and a shiver of anticipation ran through me. He bit down, hard enough to draw blood this time, and I felt the room revolve around me. Like I was already light-headed from blood loss when I wasn’t, when I couldn’t be, when I wasn’t even here.
But it felt real anyway, like when he tugged the towel away and bent me over the desk, because there was no room on top. And entered me thickly, sweetly, less urgently than before but just as good. Oh God, so good.
He was big, intimidatingly so if I was watching him. It was easier this way, the sweet burn of him overriding everything else. I shivered and he kissed my back, tracing the spinal cord with his lips, and only caused me to tremble harder.
“I’ve dreamed of taking you like this,” he whispered, breath warm in my ear, like the body draped over top of me.
“Does Kit know?”
Mircea laughed, and it echoed down into me, making me gasp and squirm. “His office didn’t actually factor into it,” he clarified.
“And what will he say when he finds out what we used it for?”
“Nothing, if he knows what’s good for him.”
It was my turn to laugh, until he shifted position, sliding fully into me. And then pulled me suddenly back against him, claiming a final half inch I hadn’t even known I had. And before I could recove
r from that, his lips found the marks on my neck, the ones he’d left there, but he didn’t puncture the skin.
He didn’t have to.
The old wound, long since closed, to the point that there was hardly even a trace anymore, opened for him like it had been waiting for his return, his own private orifice. His fangs slid in, clean, painless, easy, and my blood welled up, his for the taking. Like my body, like everything.
He began to feed, something he hadn’t done in a long time, and my whole body stiffened in surprise. And then contracted, beginning to pulse in time to the suction of his mouth, to the throb of his length inside me, to the feel of his hand between my legs, clenching. He wasn’t doing anything yet, wasn’t even moving.
And yet I was shivering and shaking, on the brink of orgasm with barely a touch.
“I dreamed about bending you over a table,” he growled into my ear. “A chair, a desk—anything you please. And taking you until you couldn’t breathe, couldn’t walk, couldn’t remember your name.”
Halfway there, I thought, slightly hysterically.
“Careful,” I gasped. “You know what happens in our dreams lately.”
I’d been thinking, okay, fantasizing, a few nights ago about Mircea, and suddenly, there he’d been. Or there I’d been, because it had sort of felt like I was suddenly in his shower on the opposite side of the country. But I hadn’t tried to go there, much less to put a spell on him. And I still didn’t know how I had.
“That wasn’t a dream,” he murmured, warm tongue licking the blood from my neck. “I was pleasuring myself, thinking of you, and there you were. I thought I was going mad for a moment, in the best possible way.”
“But you didn’t say anything,” I said, trying to concentrate and mostly failing.
