Page 135 of Thirst
“You have to ask?” I slid my fingers into that wild, curling mass, cupping the back of her skull. “You’re everything, woman—brains, beauty, talent. Plus you’re The fucking Haunt. After that show in Paris, the whole world is going to know your work.”
Her entire face glowed. “You mean that,” she said, like she finally believed it.
I tightened my grip on her skull. “I will never lie to you, Nyx. Never. But how can you not know how special you are? You arrive somewhere and the whole damn place lights up. Why d’you think I call you firefly?”
“Yeah?” she asked, pleased.
“Yeah.” I rubbed my lips over hers. She smiled against my mouth and we kissed—slow, unhurried, easy.
Then I drew back, voice stern. “Now let’s talk about you and this plan you had to sacrifice yourself.”
“Mm?” She fisted my dick, a firm hold that almost made me forget the lecture. But she wasn’t getting off that easy.
“Distracting me won’t work.” I curled up and slapped her ass. “I nearly had a heart attack. When he threatened to stick you in the liver?—”
I swallowed over the grit in my throat, reliving the terrible fear all over again.
She didn’t release her grip on me. Smart woman.
“I’m sorry, mon coeur.” She gave me an apologetic smile—and worked her hand up and down my erection. “But I’d do it again. You know I had to. You’d have done the same and we both know it.”
Fuck. She had me there.
I narrowed my eyes at her anyway. “I will never be okay with you putting you in danger. You ever try something like that again—if you even think about doing it—and I’ll spank that pretty ass of yours red.”
She reached the tip and rubbed her thumb over the soft skin of the head, spreading the pre-cum around. “I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”
“Damn right.” But I was focused on those graceful fingers and the wet spot I could see on the strip of red satin between her thighs.
She released me and brought my hand to her breast. “Touch me.”
I pinched her nipple, a last punishment, enjoying her gasp and the spike of arousal that followed. Then I curled up, kissing the tip, soothing the hurt away. I wanted to turn her over, bury myself in her sweet, hot pussy. But she’d had a rough forty-eight hours. She didn’t need me taking her like a greedy bastard.
“You ate?” I asked. “D’you need fresh blood?”
“I’m good,” she said—and sent a rush of adoration through the bond, simply because I cared enough to ask how she was doing. Gods, Nazaire had done a number on her.
She rocked against my dick, and my breath hissed through my teeth. To Hades with being a good guy.
I fell back to the mattress, bringing her with me.
She caught my face in her hands. “I love you,” she said fiercely. “So, so much.” She kissed me hard, claiming me in her own way.
Warmth settled in my chest. A warmth that was still strange to me but that I was starting to recognize as happiness.
I poked at it like it might bite. Like it was some wild animal crouched low in the underbrush, watching me back. It didn’t fight or recoil.
It just was.
Something I could trust.
Something I’d have forever.
I buried my face in Nyx’s throat and let that good, happy feeling loose. “I love you, too.”
“I know,” she murmured, stroking my head. “I know.”
The room around us faded—walls, shadows, the battle we’d fought last night—all dissolving until there was only her heartbeat thrumming against my chest. I slid my hands down her back, feeling the curve of her spine, the strength beneath her softness. She arched into me, her body fitting against mine as though it had always belonged there.
