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His eyes were still glued to my figure.
I pretended not to notice as I tucked my feet up beneath me and started to read.
…maybe I didn’t just want to be friends after all.
Maybe I wanted to see how long it would take him to lose control, and pin me to a wall, and fuck me.
Maybe I wanted to see the strong, perfectly-controlled fae lose control of his calm façade and command me to strip, to sit on his cock, to give myself to him.
That was my new goal, I decided, as I flipped through the journal looking for details about the monsters.
The journal didn’t seem to hold anything personal at all; just a summary of what Remmo had seen while he was spying on people, and a plan of action in case the people he’d been tracking decided to attack.
Nothing about the klynnas at all.
Still, I kept flipping the pages, scanning the words he’d written in his pretty, elegant handwriting.
After some time had passed, I looked over at Remmo and found his attention also fixed on a journal.
Just to nudge him a little closer to that edge I was hoping to push him over, I stretched my legs out.
The movement immediately made his attention jerk back to me. And his eyes followed my legs as I lifted them toward him. “Is it cool if I put my feet up here?” I asked him, lowering a foot to the middle of his thigh.
“Yes.” His eyes followed my feet as I settled them on his lap—being careful not to accidentally bump the erection straining against his shorts.
I’d get to the bumping later.
First, I needed to get him comfortable with this.
One of his hands landed lightly on my feet, and I shivered a bit at the warmth that wrapped around them. His gaze lifted back to my breasts until my shivering stopped, and then he dragged his attention back to his book.
And he read.
He was going to be a tough one to crack, but damn… I was going to have fun pushing him.
We readuntil we were too exhausted to keep our eyes open, making it through five of the journals between the two of us.
“I’ll sleep on the couch,” he murmured to me, as I slowly rose to my feet.
“No. It’s your house; if there’s only one bed, you’re sleeping in it. There’s plenty of space for both of us,” I said, grabbing his hand in mine.
He was silent as I led him to the mattress, and even more silent as I climbed to the far side. There was only one pillow, right in the middle of the mattress, and my inner temptress cackled.
Remmo slid beneath the blankets, not going anywhere near the pillow as he stiffly looked over at me.
“We can share the damn pillow,” I grumbled at him, fighting hard to hide my thrill with how perfectly the situation was going down.
“It’s yours,” he said in a low voice.
“Actually, it’s yours.” I plopped my head down far away from said pillow, giving him a taste of his own medicine. “I’m not using it if you’re not.”
His chest rumbled unhappily. “You are my mate. Taking care of you is my role.”
“And taking care of you is mine,” I countered.
A moment of tense silence passed.
And then another.
