Page 180 of Flirting with Darkness

He stroked my hair. “I’m calling in our bargain.”

If I’d had more energy, I would’ve laughed. He didn’t need to use his favour if he wanted me to fuck him. Not after that performance. Truth be told, notbeforethat performance, either. Though that was after the bath and whatever dream had teased me; maybe I’d feel different in the morning. Still, right now?

Right now, he could have me any way he wished, bargain or no bargain.

More fool him for wasting his favour on something he could already have.

I arched and gave him a sleepy smile, letting my hand trail to his stomach in lazy circles. The muscles went taut under my touch. That power felt good—not as good as his tongue had felt inside and upon me, but still good. “Oh?”

He played with a lock of my hair, which had dried into waves before the fire. He tickled it from freckle to freckle along my arm. “Tell me what you want, Rose. Not from my body, but from life. From everything.”

I blinked, my caress of his stomach falling still. What I wanted. I blinked again, swallowed, but I couldn’t find any words.

I didn’thaveany words.

To delay answering or to distract him, perhaps, I grazed my touch lower down his belly and past the waistband of his shorts until my fingers traced his hard outline. It was just as thick and long as I’d have expected from his overall size. I had to swallow again.

He captured my wrist and pulled my hand up to his chest, where he trapped it with his own. “What do you want, Rose?” His voice was soft, but it contained a note of warning that rumbled into my palm.

I scoffed softly, disturbing the hairs on his chest as I looked up. He met my gaze, not quite scowling, but intent, serious. “Don’tyouwant me?” I arched into him and draped my leg over his thigh.

His neck corded. “Like you wouldn’t believe.”

“Then why don’t you have me?”

“Mm.” His nostrils flared as he shifted but didn’t push me off. “I’mtryingto be noble.” He let out a soft growl as though not all of him agreed with the decision. “I’m not taking advantage of whatever got you hot and bothered in that bath.”

“Hmm.” My eyelids grew heavy, and I fought their closing, but found myself losing the battle and let them shut. “My noble beast.” I huffed at my own joke, snuggling against him.

His arm tightened around me and he resumed playing with my hair. “What do you want, Rose?”

So he hadn’t forgotten his question. Sleep pressing on me, I let out a breath that matched the rise and fall of his chest. The dark came, creeping across me, but I managed to answer before it closed over my head.

“I don’t know.”

23

WAKING

House sent us pleasant dreams that night and I woke warm and well-rested. With a weight around my waist.

Ah.

Yes.

Complications.

But—I eased away and looked back at him—sound asleep. Maybe not a complication. Maybe just an instinctive response to having me close. We’d shared a bed for a couple of weeks now, and a few times I’d woken snuggled against his great mass. It didn’t have to mean anything. Just like last night didn’t have to mean anything. He’d said himself that he just wanted to give me relief.

“Mm.” His arm tightened, pulling me against his chest.

Admittedly, it wasn’t the worst place to be. But…

I tugged on his hand—it was like trying to wrestle a whole ham.

“Rose?” His voice was muffled and soft with a note of sleepy confusion that wrenched on my chest. The great and grumpy Faolán, all soft and vulnerable like a child. “You’re still here.” He sighed, ruffling my hair, and pulled me close again, nuzzling into the crook between my shoulder and neck.

His warmth, his touch, the way that last comment and sigh sounded like relief… It slid through my veins, easing my muscles, like the creeping effect of good, strong spirits.

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