Page 58 of Faerie Fate
“Do you know how much I’ve missed you?” he murmured. “How fucking much I’ve missed you?”
“I’ve been here.” I slid my hand along the plane of his stomach and his lean muscles.
He dragged his fingertips along my skin, touching me gently, softly. Like I was this delicate thing.
Mike kissed my chin. “I thought I lost you.”
My eyes widened and I hissed through my teeth. “You’ll never lose me.Never. I’ll always find a way back to you.”
His gaze dropped to the scar. He didn’t say anything before he kissed me again with his eyes open. He watched my face. Looking for pain. Looking for discomfort. Inch by careful inch, we both relaxed into each other.
“I don’t want to hurt you. You’ve been through so much.”
I arched into him. “You’ll never hurt me. I’m not fragile.”
In this small cabin, with two other people and Noren right at the foot of the bed, we couldn’t go too far. If I started touching him, we would not be able to stop. I held my hand in place at his shoulder rather than trailing lower to his delicious hardness pushing against his boxers.
Mike kissed me deeply and swept this tongue along the seam of my lips until I opened for him. Our breath tangling, he swept his hand through my hair, bunching the strands between his fingers.
His opposite hand slid up from my hip, to the side of my breast, to my collarbone. Then brushed my scar.
He stilled and pulled back to leave only coldness where his warm lips had been.
“I’m sorry.” He sucked in a breath. I froze. “We should sleep.”
Mike rolled on his side, away from me, and I emptied out.No, please?—
Too bereft to move, I lay on my side facing his back, reeling and scared. Sleep eventually found me but it didn’t help much.
Mike was the first to wake in the watery sunlight. He took every bit of heat with him as he pushed off the mattress, crossing without a sound to the pile of discarded clothes. I watched him through half closed eyes, his outline blurry, his back to me as he dressed.
Numb, I followed him. Blood had stiffened my clothing but even the magic required to clean it felt like too much of a hassle.
Poppy was still locked away in her spell room by the time we made it downstairs. Bronwen, rather than taking advantage of the time to sleep in, manned a pot on the stove. Her whistling cut off at our approach.
“I hope you guys don’t mind. I made kind of like a breakfast gumbo,” she said with a pearly toothed grin.
Mike yawned and covered his mouth with a hand. “What do you mean, a gumbo?”
“I mean I did the best with what I found in Poppy’s cold stores. The magic keeps the ingredientswayfresher than any kind of fridge in the mortal world,” Bronwen said.Waytoo joyful for this early hour.
I dropped into a chair at the table, head in hands. I’d have killed for a cup of coffee. Or maybe one of those cauldrons full of it. “What did you find?”
“Some eggs and sausage. Along with fresh tomatoes, and something like a beef base? I’m not exactly sure. I tried to find a pot and a spatula but there aren’t exactly regular kitchen tools here.” Bronwen tapped out a beat to whatever song she hummed under her breath. Stirring like a witch. “It will be delicious,” she singsonged. “I promise.”
My thoughts were too loud for me to make conversation. They drowned out even Bronwen’s humming.
Mike stalked between walls and paced the length of the cabin on a different sort of patrol than Noren. If he kept at it, I’d be dizzy again.
Silent, lost in our thoughts, the first knock of someone at the front door sounded like the blast of a cannon. I shot to my feet and Noren mimicked the motion. His growl raised my own hackles.
“Someone got through Poppy’s protective wards?” Bronwen stopped stirring and her face blanched.
Mike and I shared a look. Whoever it was must have permission to get through them because they were some pretty heavy protections. A friend, maybe?
One look at the door to the spell room showed it still solidly shut against intruders. If I expected Poppy to come out, I was wrong.
The person knocked again more urgently.
