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“I thought I’d heal fast. I always do. But this shit with the magic, it… It messes up every part of me.”
“I wish I could help.”
“More sex would. Only saying.” He chuckles when I harrumph. “Arawn, was I that bad a lover that you don’t want a repeat?”
“It’s not that,” I mumble against the smooth skin of his chest. His pec makes a good pillow.
“Then what is it?”
“It’s… complicated. I mean… The others aren’t here. I’d feel like there is no balance. Does this make any sense?
“You’ve already had sex with them, too,” he says. “What difference does it make?”
“I…” God, can my skin blister off my face? I feel my cheeks flaming. “I know. But it feels different now.”
“Of course it does.” Now he sounds smug. “I knew I’d ruin you for any other guy. After me, it just won’t be the same, ever.”
“Stop.” I smack his chest lightly, laughing. “You’re so full of yourself.”
“Youwere so full ofme, if I recall correctly. And you moaned my name and said more, Sin, more, please, harder, Sin—”
“Shut up.” I smack him again, then lift my head concerned. “Did I hurt you? Is it—”
“My body is fine. My heart though…” He shakes his head, eyes dancing with mirth. “It’s shattered,Almaya. How cruel you girls are.”
“What?”
“Not throwing yourself at me, not begging for a repeat performance. My pride is wounded. And hitting me. Such violence.”
“You…” I blink. “You barely felt that.”
“True.” He laughs and he looks like a young god, beautiful and happy, andoh my heart… “What is it?”
“You.” I stretch up to kiss his mouth. “I like you.”
“Well, good to know. Mf…” He pretends to be shocked by the kiss, then lifts his hand to cradle my head and deepens it, tasting of lightning and power and bitterness.
I can’t get enough.
Our bodies are flush together but it’s not enough. He’s right, he made me feel incredible when I was last in bed with him, and now, feeling him, all hard muscle sheathed in silken skin, I crave him like a drug. He pulls one of my legs over his to press his growing hardness against the lace barely covering me, making me gasp. He only has to pull the scrap of lace aside to enter me, and it’s all I can think of, all I can—
“The boy should be wary,” a creaky voice says from somewhere beyond the bed, making me squeal and jump.
“Oh my God! What was that?” I pant, my heart in my throat. “Who is there?”
“That’s… my desk,” Sindri says, resignation in his voice.
“Yourdesk? What?”
“It’s a magical desk, as a lot of my furnishings are. Like the mirror that showed you an image, remember?”
“I remember. But…” I sit up, staring at the desk in question in the faint light cast by his desk lamp. “It canspeak?”
“It’s made of living wood from the groves of Mournelere, the Winter Palace of the fae that was hidden in caves underground for centuries. It has witnessed much.”
“Andnowit decided to tell us about it?”
Sindri has sat up in bed, the covers pooling at his lap, baring his ripped chest. He cocks his head to the side, blue and black hair sliding over his forehead. A silver-clad, pointed ear twitches. “Yeah. Odd, isn’t it? What do you have to say,elmenere?”
