Page 51 of Monster's Past

“Good.” He reaches up to cup my cheek and draws me to him to kiss me deeply.

I return it, even though I know we should be focusing on finishing our essay.

“Cethin,” I murmur against his lips.

“Ten-minute break,” he responds, his words vibrating through me.

“No. But only because you know it won’t be ten minutes.” I force myself to sit back.

“I’m blaming you, have I told you how good you look wearing only my shirt?” He looks me up and down, the desire in his gaze making my pulse race and my blood heat.

My lips quirk up into a teasing smile. “How else am I going to stop you from wearing it?”

He lets out a bemused laugh. “Temptress.”

“You’re the one who took it off. I just took advantage of the situation.” I bite my lip at the memory of just why he’d done that and what had come after. One ofmanyten-minute breaks. “Maybe we should have gone to the library to do this instead of a secret room.”

“No way. This is amuchbetter place to study.” He picks up the book he’s checking as one of our references and pretends to read.

“I do like it. No one can disturb us here.” I don’t know precisely what deal he’s made to make sure we can use the private space when we want, but I’m grateful for it. It would be too hard to wait for stolen moments when we can get them. I want to know that I don’t have to leave him for the whole night.

“Oh, Mum sent some more gingerbread cake for you.” He picks up the tin and holds it out to me. “I meant to tell you when we got here, but...”

“I know what happened.” I take the tin from him and pull off the lid. The sweet scent of the gingerbread spices fills the air and I pick up a piece and take a bite. “Mmm, your mum is a cake genius.”

“I’ll tell her you said that.” He takes one for himself and starts eating it.

I blush and tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. It’s still weird to think that he talks to his mum about me, especially when I’m yet to meet her. Though I suppose that’ll change soon when I visit over the holidays.

I pick up my tablet and start reading through our essay for what feels like the fiftieth time. Despite the fact we’ve written it, I’m still not sure I understand the point of teaching evil in the curriculum. Maybe it’s something I’ll learn in time.

I finish my slice of cake and realise that I’m reading the same words over several times and none of it is going in. I sigh and put down the tablet, turning to Cethin.

He raises an eyebrow. “Ten-minute break?”

“Maybe twenty,” I respond.

He draws me to him and kisses me, the taste of ginger and cinnamon lingering on his lips, feeding a different kind of hunger within me. We break apart and I trail my hand down his chest, enjoying the way it feels to touch his bare skin.

“Have you ever heard a banshee scream?” I ask.

“I have a feeling I’m going to,” he responds, his eyes glowing purple as he looks at me with obvious desire written all over his face.

“Only if you make me.” I lean in and brush my lips against his. He captures them and deepens the kiss.

I melt into him, knowing that no matter how much I still have to learn about my banshee magic, I’ll have someone by my side who will help me. And what more could I ask for from my mate?