Page 237 of If You Give an Artist a Killer Muse

Mmmfffuckmm, yes, yes… Fuck ME…Oh shiiiit…

What… How the hell did he make me come that fast?

Rurik lifts his head, wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, then flashes me a satisfied smirk. “Fucking delicious as always, baby. Thank you.”

Fuck.

What was I thinking about earlier again? Fuck it, it doesn’t matter anymore.

The only person that matters is this man. And I’ll do whatever it takes to protect the man I love, and that means getting rid of that awful man he calls his stepdad.

*-*-*-*

“Baby, where are you taking me?”

I squeeze his hand and swing our clasped hands together. “I thought we could go for a walk.”

“I’m not your little pet that needs to be taken out on walks, Briar,” Rurik grumbles, his fingers tightening around mine.

I grin. “Could have fooled me with your sloppy licking this morning.”

I yelp when Rurik pinches my side.

“Brat,” Rurik mutters like a grumpy old man. “When you said you had a surprise for me, I thought you meant sex.”

“We have sex all the time, Rurik.” I laugh. “Not exactly a surprise since birthday sex is a given.”

He smirks and shrugs. “Fine.” His thumb gently rubs circles on my hand.

I smile because I don’t think he realizes he does stuff like that.

Ever since we ran into Philip, Rurik has become a lot more affectionate. I’m not complaining, but I definitely notice the difference.

He kisses me whenever he can and touches me whenever I’m near. He’s always holding my hand; if he’s not, he places a hand somewhere on my body. Either his arms are around me, his hand rests on my leg, or he’s just nearby. The only times he’s not touching me are when we’re cooking, cleaning, or changing—moments when we need both of our hands. But even then, he finds ways to sneak a touch.

I love it.

But I can’t help but wonder if it’s his way of reassuring me that he’s here with me or reassuring himself that I’m here with him.

“Almost there,” I say, spotting the familiar statue.

I pull Rurik along, noticing his strides growing smaller as the statue comes into clearer view. It’s as if he knows exactly where I’m taking him.

We go up the steps and stop right in front of the statue. The statue that I consider started everything.

I look up at it and sigh, “Rurik. Meet Angel.”

Rurik quickly glances at me, his brows raising questioningly.

I tilt my head to the side, “Remember when I told you I had a friend when I was younger? She was my nanny.” I nod toward the statue, “This was the angel statue I was fascinated by.”

I watch as Rurik smiles, walking over to the statue and reaching forward to poke it.

“Ah,” Rurik muses, “So this is what I’m compared to.”

“I know,” I tease, kissing his shoulder. “Big shoes to fill. Or wings, I should say.”

He rolls his eyes, his lips curving. “I can see why he enchants little Briar. He’s gorgeous,” he nods. “Kind of scary and intimidating, though.”

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