Page 82 of Shattered Veil
I shouldn’t be watching her like this.
But I can’t look away.
Her gaze flicks to me, a secret smile playing on her lips. Heat floods my body as memories batter me – Brigid’s skin under my hands, her breathy moans, the way she arched against me. How easily she obeyed me.
I shift, adjusting myself discreetly. This is torture. Not being able to be near her, after what she just went through.
“You’re staring,” Rory mutters beside me.
I tear my eyes away from Brigid. “I’m observing.”
“Right,” he snorts. “And your observing eyes are staring.”
I shoot him a look. “Shouldn’t you be stuffing your face with the gingerbread?”
Rory grins, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Nah, I’m good right here.”
We stand in silence for a moment, both pretending we’re not overly aware of Brigid’s every move.
“Gods, I can’t wait until we don’t have to hide this shit anymore,” Rory says, his voice low. “I’m gonna fuck her on every flat surface in the building. Hell, some of the vertical ones, too.”
I nearly choke on the mulled wine I’m drinking. “Rory.”
He grins, unrepentant. “What? Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it. You want to bend her over right here in front of everyone.”
He’s not wrong.
“It’s honest,” Rory counters. “And hot as fuck. Imagine her spread out on that big oak table in the library, or pressed up against the windows in the astronomy tower.”
The mental images strike me. Brigid, naked and wanting, her pale skin glowing in the starlight. Her legs wrapped around my waist as I drive into her, begging me.
I shift uncomfortably, willing my growing erection away. “You’re not helping,” I growl.
Rory just grins, clearly pleased with himself for getting a reaction out of me. But I don’t miss the tension in his jaw, the tightness around his eyes. He’s hurting too, having to stay away from her. Our mate bond doesn’t like separation.
I turn back to the dance floor, unable to keep my gaze from Brigid. She meets my eyes again, and for a moment, the rest of the world fades away.
Gods help me. This girl will be the death of us all.
I tear my gaze away, forcing myself to focus on the other partygoers. Anything to distract me.
A group of fae are doing shots of glowing blue liquid that make their skin sparkle. In the corner, a couple of witches are practically fucking against the wall, oblivious to everyone around them.
Brigid catches my eye again and tilts her head slightly, a silent question. I give an imperceptible nod. She excuses herself from Eira and Finn, heading towards the refreshment table.
“I need a refill,” I mutter to Rory.
He snorts. “Yeah, I bet you do.”
I weave through the crowd, careful not to move too quickly. At the table, I pretend to study the array of drinks while Brigid ladles wine into her cup.
“Having fun?” I ask quietly, staring straight ahead and not looking at her. “You looked... carefree out there.” I risk a quick glance from my peripheral.
Her smile falters. “I’m trying to be. After everything... ”
I ache to pull her into my arms. Instead, I grip my cup tighter. “You’re safe now.”
“Am I?” she whispers.
