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"Good." He grumbled, "If I’d been them, I’d have hauled you over my shoulder and taken you there myself."

"I slipped through the cracks," was all I said.

"Well, something’s about to slip through your crack," he retorted, and despite myself, I had to giggle, and I pressed my face into his shoulder as I did so.

"Don’t make me laugh."

"I wasn’t joking," he said wryly.

I turned my face into his throat and pressed a kiss there. As his head rocked back, I followed, and as I anointed the area with kisses, lathing it here and there, fluttering the tip along the sinews, I whispered, "Aidan, you’re not allowed to die."

"I know, little one. I know."

That was when he thrust the finger deeper into my ass, and took things to a whole other level.

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