Page 77 of Finch


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dark. Who knew that dragons could be so resourceful? Finch cuddled against Hugh’s side and

enjoyed it, occupying himself with listening to Hugh’s deep, rumbling breaths.

He didn’t intend to fall asleep. Rather, like this afternoon at the party, Finch figured Hugh would

rest and he would stand watch. Nevertheless, fall asleep Finch did. It was almost impossible

not to. Protected by his dragon and sheltered from the world, he’d never felt so safe in his life.

* * *

Finch woke up in bed. He was fully dressed with the exception of his shoes, thank the lord, but

the issue wasn’t his state of dishabille so much as it was that he’d gained significant amounts

of apparel. As Finch woke, he took stock of it all. A ring had been placed on each of his fingers

save his pinkies, which were stacked so high with rings, he could barely see his skin. There

were things on his back—coins, probably, although they might also have been flat-backed

jewels—and from the corner of an eye, he caught sight of a slender gold chain that had been

draped over his head to nestle in his hair. There may or may not have been diamonds studded

in it. It was hard to see when he was trying his very best to pretend he was still asleep.

In addition to the riches covering his body, the bed was littered with coins and some of the

largest amethysts Finch had ever seen. There were other gold trinkets and sparkly baubles,

but there were so many that trying to identify them all would be insanity. Instead, Finch scanned

the bed for the one thing that seemed to be missing—Hugh.

The dragon was nowhere to be seen.

With his employer missing and not a clock to be seen, Finch wiggled to dislodge the treasure

piled on his back and attempted to sit up. He was still in Hugh’s hoard, he realized, meaning

that he was sleeping in Hugh’s sex bed. Well, at least he assumed it was Hugh’s sex bed. The

truth was, for as long as Finch had served him, he hadn’t noticed Hugh take any callers.

Perhaps it was his wank bed. At the party, Ignatius had shared a story about a wank throne,

so anything was possible.

After he’d shaken off enough treasure to sit up, Finch saw Hugh, naked and very human,

coming toward him, carrying some sort of chest. “Oh,” Hugh said. “It seems you’re awake.” He

blushed a rosy pink that spread all the way down his lightly furred chest.

“Ah, yes. How did I… uh… get here? On your m… bed?” Finch had almost said mating bed,

but he’d stopped himself in time.

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