Page 41 of Who Owns You?

“I’m so sorry that happened. I texted Eloise, and she said combustion can be a sign that my magic is surfacing more.”

Darius glances up at me, reading my expression and smiling. “You’re nervous about the magic, aren’t you?” he asks as he stands, giving me the best view of his toned thigh and…well, his dick.

The gargoyle is only wearing a tight-fitting pair of boxers that leave very little to the imagination, if anything at all.

I swallow a mouthful of spit before answering. “Who wouldn’t be? I didn’t grow up using magic or even knowing it was real.”

“You’re right. You should be nervous. From what I gather, Eloise thinks you come from a strong bloodline on both sides.” He sits beside me casually, his warm thigh pressed against my own.

I’m only wearing his sweater because, of course, I don’t have underwear in his room, and he refused to let me go back into mine without looking me over first. He was being such an alpha. It’s obnoxious in a way that makes me want to kiss him. It’s hard even now to focus on what he said, the whole strong bloodlines thing. And it’s not something I want to focus on, so I shift gears, turning fully to face him.

“Thanks for the quick thinking—getting me off the ground—I was about to bolt right through the glass,” I admit, cursing the lizard-brain urge to “fight, flight, or fawn.”

“I’m a protector. It’s what I do,” he says, though the way he looks at me makes me think maybe—just maybe—there’s something more to his words.

Fuck my brain and those stupid, internalized thoughts of self-hatred that make me doubt and that don’t even belong tome. I love fucking and deserve to be fucked, especially by a man who looks at me the way these gargoyles do.

God, I want Darius’ hands on me, holding on to me while I blow his mind and he blows mine right back. My eyes land on the growing erection in his boxers, and I gulp audibly.

“I’m sorry, but does your dick have swirls?” I gasp, taking in the details of it as best as I can through the fabric. It’s thin but provides enough coverage that I’m questioning what I’m seeing.

I must be daydreaming. I swear the texture reminds me of a certain silicone unicorn horn I’ve used to get off more than once.

He chuckles and rubs at his jaw, looking away bashfully. “It is. Most gargoyles have a special…texture, if you will.”

“Really? Is it the same for everyone in the nest?” I blurt the question out before logic hits my brain.

I basically just asked what the dicks of the other guys I live with look like. I bite my lip and sink down into the plush comforter a little.

Darius chuckles, the sound so delicious it makes my toes curl. “Do you really want to know?”

“I mean, yes, I do, but it’s a totally inappropriate question, and I don’t have the best track record when trying not to perv on you guys.” My cheeks are flaming.

“Well then, I’ll give you this hint: we all have differences down there.” He gives me a grin that melts the rest of my resolve from my body.

I whimper softly, sinking back against his pillows.

“Wow,” I manage.

“I guess so, wow,” he repeats, the air around us charged. He leans over me, resting his hand beside my head. “May I kiss you, Charlotte? I can’t help but imagine what your lips taste like.” The words are a soft confession.

By way of a response, I press my mouth to his and groan.

How do they all feel so dang good? It’s not fair. It should be illegal, but I’m going to enjoy it, so send me right to jail.

He deepens the kiss and moves to position himself in a plank style over me. He’s too far away, and I don’t want that.

I wrap my legs around his waist and pull his body to mine. To my surprise, he comes willingly. He presses his hips to mine, and I feel every glorious inch of his massive cock pressed against my overheated core. I moan, grinding against him to get some friction. I’m not wearing any panties, so the moment my wet pussy makes contact with the fabric of his boxers, they soak through. I feel the texture of his cock so much better as I writhe and grind my clit against it.

The guttural sound that escapes his mouth as he devours mine is unlike anything a human could make. It’s thrilling, a little chilling, and so fucking erotic. His nipples are as hard as the stone they appear to be made of.

“Charlotte,” Darius groans against my mouth, nipping and sucking at my top lip gently before giving the same tender treatment to the bottom. “As an immortal, death is never on the table, so your mouth is as close to heaven as I’ll get. Thank you.” He moves his free hand down to my hips and rocks them harder into his own.

A desperate sound crawls up my throat, and he finally breaks the kiss.

“That was…” I can hardly make out the words as I pant.

I need oxygen, but it doesn’t seem like he does.

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