Page 54 of Hidden By the Gargoyle

Encouraged by the flush on his cheekbones and the way his cock was beginning to harden, I dipped a finger down, rolling it over my clit the way I had the night before when he was moving inside me.

Dax groaned and fell to his knees beside the bed. “Are you hurting for more?”

“Yes,” I whispered.

His hand curved over my knee and pulled, turning me around so I laid sideways across the mattress. He nudged my hand to the side before he lowered his head and fastened his mouth over my clit.

He shoved my knees up and to the side, leaving me wide open for him. And he gave me what I needed.

* * *

An hour later,I was sitting on a barstool downstairs, wearing nothing but a pair of panties and one of his flannel shirts. My wet hair hung down my back, drying quickly from the heat of the woodstove. Dax had lit a small fire as soon as we came downstairs because he saw me shivering.

After two orgasms courtesy of Dax’s lips and tongue, he’d still refused to have sex with me, though I had added and checked off another item from my list. I’d watched him masturbate in the shower, watching how he touched himself, what he liked. I wanted to know how to drive him as wild as he drove me. I wanted to make him feel the way I did when he touched me.

Now, we were in the kitchen, and he was making us breakfast. I tried to help but he just picked me up and sat me back on the stool.

I decided that if I was relegated to spectator, I was going to enjoy it, so I made him take off his t-shirt. He hadn’t argued but his eyes twinkled when he stripped it over his head and handed it to me.

It was the first time I was able to see the tattoo of the sword on his back clearly. It was a true work of art. The hilt rested just below the base of his neck and the blade extended down his spine to the waistband of his pants.

“How does your tattoo work?” I asked him as he made us both coffees.

He glanced over his shoulder at me. “It’s a spell.”

I rolled my eyes. “I know that. But you’re a gargoyle. I thought you were resistant to magic. How can you carry a spelled tattoo on your body?”

He hesitated before he answered. “She used a special needle. There isn’t much that can harm a gargoyle. But there is a type of alloy, one my people created, that is able to pierce our skin, even in our fully stone form. It’s infused with obsidian and magical fire.”

I gaped at him. “So, it burns?”

“Like hellfire, yes,” he said, nodding.

“And youletsomeone use a needle made of this on your body?”

His face shut down, but he did answer me. “I needed a weapon that wasn’t immediately visible. Something I could carry with me always. At the time, I believed this was my only option.”

It was my turn to remain quiet. The jealousy I had felt toward the witch who gave him the tattoo faded now that I knew how painful it must have been for him.

“Thank you for telling me,” I murmured, sipping my coffee.

He nodded with a grunt and went back to pulling things out of the fridge. Since I’d made dinner last night, he insisted on making breakfast this morning.

After a few moments of silence, I decided to change the subject and hopefully dispel some of the tension in the room.

“Do you need to go into the office today?” I asked.

He shook his head. “The assistant manager is here today. She can handle anything that comes up and it would be good for Poppy to get used to working with her.” He glanced at me. “Do you need to work today?”

I shook my head. While I didn’t have a set schedule, I usually worked five or six days a week, but I always tried to reserve Sundays as my day off. Now, I was glad because it meant that I didn’t have to do anything but spend the day with Dax.

“What are we going to do all day?” I asked.

“Considering it’s nearly eleven, I’d say half the day is gone.”

He answered my question without answering, so I decided to give him a nudge.

“How about we each choose one thing to do?”

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