His free hand slid up my back under my sweater, steadying me as he shifted beneath me. “We should establish some boundaries,” he said, voice low and rich. “Set a safe word for next time.”
“Like not breaking into my home?”
“I’d hardly call that breaking in. The wind could have opened that latch.”
I did a double take when I realized what he’d said, “Next time?” I tried to sound skeptical, but my body betrayed me, responding to his proximity. The heat of his palm against my bare skin sent shivers down my spine. “Pretty presumptuous of you.”
He hummed against my neck, the sound more growl than laugh. “Is it?” His teeth grazed my throat through the turtleneck. “Choose a word, bunny. Something you’d never say in the heat of the moment.”
I swallowed hard, trying to focus despite the way his thumb was now tracing patterns on my hip, each touch making my skin tingle. “Marshmallow.”
He pulled back, amusement dancing in those silver eyes. The sudden space between us made it marginally easier to think. “Excuse me?”
“I hate the texture,” I muttered, heat creeping up my neck at how ridiculous it sounded. “They’re disgusting. All...spongy and powdery, and weird.”
“Mmm.” He closed the distance again. “I could think of a few ways to change your mind about that.” His hand slid lower to the clasp of my pants, following the trail of marks he’d left last night. “But for now...tell me how you’re feeling after everything.”
“I told you, I’m fine.” My words cut off in a gasp as he ground his hips up against me, the movement deliberate and devastating. The tug on my hair at the nape of my neck elicited an embarrassing squeak. Between us, small blue wisps appeared, floating lazily likeunderwater fireflies. I hadn’t meant to release them—these unconscious displays of my power only happened when I was overwhelmed. Kronos didn’t comment, but his eyes darkened at the sight, pupils expanding as he watched the lights dance across my skin.
“The truth, Alex.” His voice carried that note of command that made my insides turn to liquid. “Were you okay with everything we did?”
“Yes,” I managed, trying to gather my scattered thoughts as his fingers traced over sensitive skin. “It was intense, but...good intense. Different.” I couldn’t look at him. My mind was running away to avoid how intensely he was examining me.
His hand moved to cup my jaw, thumb brushing my lower lip. “And this morning? Why’d you run away like that?”
“I don’t do mornings after,” I said, though it was getting harder to focus with the way he kept shifting beneath me. “It’s not—I just don’t.”
“Clearly.” His teeth caught my earlobe. “Though I had plans for this morning. Breakfast. Maybe…” His hand slid lower to trace the length of me that had stiffened under his coaxing. “But since you climbed out my window…”
Suddenly he was standing, depositing me on shaky legs beside the bed. The loss of contact left me reeling, cold air rushing into the space where his heat had been.
“Sweet dreams, little bunny.”Why does he keep calling me that?He bent to brush a devastating kiss across mylips. “Consider this payback for leaving me to wake up alone.”
“Bunny?” I scoffed. If anything, I was a sly fox. The front door clicked shut behind him and within minutes, the rumble of a motorcycle engine drew me to the window just in time to see him snap his helmet visor closed. He caught my eye, offered a two-finger salute, and roared off into the night.
Chapter Eight
Gilded
The sun was peeking through the slats of my ancient blinds when my phone buzzed across the nightstand. I fumbled for it, still half-asleep, and squinted at the screen.
Kronos:Be ready at 7. Dress formally.
My stomach did that annoying flip it had taken to doing whenever his name appeared on my screen. Three weeks of whatever this was between us—dinners at restaurants I couldn’t pronounce the names of, nights at his place that left me walking funny the next day, mornings where I’d slip out before he woke—and I still hadn’t figured out what we were doing.
I dropped the phone on my chest and stared at the ceiling, watching the shadow of a tree branch dance across the water stain in the corner. The shape reminded me of the way his hair looked spread across his pillowafter I’d run my fingers through it. I was getting way too deep into this.
The vibration against my sternum made me jump.
Kronos:Don’t even think about ghosting. I’ll hunt you down again.
I could almost hear the growl in his voice, and my body responded traitorously to the memory of his ‘hunt.’ Even his texts carried that air of command that somehow bypassed my brain and went straight to my nerves. I’d started Pavlovian-responding to the specific ping I’d set for his messages.
I tapped out a response—Formal as in a tux or formal as in not jeans?—and immediately regretted asking. The three dots appeared, disappeared.
Kronos:You’ll find what you need at the store. Twyla’s helping.
I groaned, dropping the phone on my face by accident. Of course, he’d enlisted Twyla. The two of them had struck up an unlikely friendship after he’d shown up at the shop with a vintage brass and crystal barometer for her collection. Now they texted about weather systems and antiques while I pretended not to be jealous of their easy rapport.
