Page 28 of Collected By the Crow

The air between their locked eyes was an electrostatic charge, building and building with nowhere to go.

Cassandra broke the spell with a yawn.

“You need rest.”

The moment he spoke, he was already gathering the scattered game pieces.

“You just want to stop playing this boring game,” she teased.

“Any game with a real opponent and not a thumbless bird is not boring.”

Cass laughed. She started to help gathering the pieces, but one of his hands reached out and swatted hers, making her yelp and pull her arms to her chest. She glared at him.

“Go to bed, Doctor.”

“Yes, sir.”

But her feet were glued to the floor. She reached up, wanting to touch him, to smooth the feathers on his temple. They were close enough that all she’d need to do was stand on her toes to reach his lips.

She didn’t bother to try.

Her hand dropped to her side and she smiled blithely. She whistled for Zero and headed up the stairs.

Chapter Sixteen

Qadaire

What had she planned to do? Was she going to run her ink-tipped fingers along his bicep? His jaw? He shut everything out and focused on the citrus and honey scent that still clung to the room. Maybe she’d wanted to pull him down, to try to kiss him again.

You are beautiful.

“That can’t be right,” he muttered. He argued with the piece of him that wanted to believe she’d meant it.

You are beautiful. The words snagged in the cobwebs of his troubled mind. Was it a sign his courtship was working? If that were the case, he should be glad. Was it fair of him to court her when he knew he was unworthy?

Beautiful.

Regardless if she believed that or not, he couldn’t kiss her. She deserved lips that could sing to her properly, could voice their feelings, could lave her with expertise. Not his gray, droll, muttering mouth, which had no business being so near to her lips, nor her warm cunt, her dew-coated lily.

What a gorgeous flower it was. What a divine delicacy. The sweet taste of her on his tongue had sent him into delirium. He’d lost control of his lower half as he’d used every bit of his body from navel up to gorge himself on her sweet nectar. The way she’d melted in his arms, flooding his mouth with her arousal. He fucking loved being the reason she loosened her hold. Her shoulders must be so heavy, with the weight of the world on them.

He couldn’t shake the memory of the hurt in her gentle features when he’d ditched her to change his trousers. He hoped she’d believed his lie and hadn’t seen the mess he’d made. That she hadn’t realized he was so far below her.

He fought a whole-body cringe at more scattered remembering. I have another challenge. For one irrational moment, he’d thought she was reading his mind. That her challenge would involve her slick thighs and his teeth, his fangs deep inside the flesh so close to her cunt that her sweet citrus scent would mix with her honey flavor, his fingers buried in the hive of her sex. He’d spent half the day discreetly listening to the vein in her wrist pulse. Entranced by the way her thighs rubbed against each other. Nine rings, those thighs! How he wanted to be smothered by them. Fuck oxygen, he would breath her.

The images in his head made his cock stiffen and his bump swell. He listened for her voice upstairs. He’d heard her reading to Zero in bed before, but it was quiet now. He went to a secluded area of the mansion to relieve himself. This woman hadn’t even touched him yet and he was spilling seed all over the place!

He allowed himself a long sleep of thirty minutes, the first rest he’d had since the day Cassandra arrived. The first thing he did with his fresh awareness was check for her presence. She was still asleep in the bedroom, with her sick pup.

To pass the time until she woke, he brought out his makeshift guitar. To ensure his new hobby remained a secret, he would have to stop playing a few hours before Cassandra woke. That would be enough time for his body to heal any marks on his fingertips from playing all night. He was steadily improving, although he knew it would be better once the guitar he’d ordered arrived. His magic would adjust for the delivery, directing the driver to the front door of an illusionary cottage much closer to the road.

The thought of his impending serenade reminded him of the emerald hair comb. He located it and put it in his pocket for safekeeping until an opportune moment.

Once he’d worked his fingers to the bone, he played more rounds of her favorite game with a half-willing crow who often had trouble sleeping, until they got tired and left. He was deep into a game against himself when he heard the soft pads of her feet slip onto the carpet. His breathing restricted and he became aware of exactly how each of his limbs were displayed. He stretched out comfortably and cleared his throat to soften his face.

“Good morning.” Cassandra yawned from the doorway. “Or afternoon or something, I guess. Looks like I adapted to your sleep schedule pretty quick, huh?”

“I don’t sleep often enough to have a schedule.”

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