Page 46 of A Witch and Her Minotaur
“Oh, that.” She shrugs again, like she’s trying to let it roll off her shoulders, but I can see the weight that hangs there, even if she tries to disguise it. “It was a long time ago. And I have Papa. Though I know I wasn’t easy on him coming up.” A bit of a sparkle returns to her eyes. “Actually, I’m pretty sure I was a terror. Still am.”
She laughs, and the sound makes me smile.
“That,” I say softly, “I can confirm.”
“Oh, please. I’ve been mostly on time, I haven’t set anything on fire—”
“Yet,” I cut in, setting my teacup down on the table.
“—and most of all, I put up withyou.”
My eyes narrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means,” Lyra says, pushing to her feet, “that you can be insufferable at times. Grumpy, cold, prickly...”
I’d argue with her, tell her she doesn’t know what she’stalking about, but she’s stepping toward me on bare feet, and my throat squeezes closed as she slips her legs around my hips and sinks onto my lap, arms coming up to drape around my neck.
Her face is so close now, I can see the different shades of red in her crimson eyes, can see the firelight dancing in her midnight pupils.
“Lyra—” I start.
She puts one hand on my cheek and leans her forehead against mine. Her skin is hot to the touch. I catch my breath.
“It’s okay,” she whispers. “You don’t have to pretend like you don’t want this.” Her hand drifts down my cheek and neck to rest on my chest, right over my heart. I know she can feel how fast it’s beating. “Whatever you say, I know you want me too.”
Her eyes burn into mine. No matter what words my mouth forms, my body doesn’t lie, and it’s already reacting to her.
“You know why I can’t,” I whisper, trying to turn my face away from hers. But she catches my cheek in her hand and forces me to look at her.
“I know why youwon’t,” she corrects. “But we’re alone. No one has to know.” Her gaze slips down to my mouth, and her thumb brushes delicately over my lips, making my cock twitch. “It’ll be our little secret.”
“If someone finds out—”
“I won’t let that happen,” she says. Her eyes flash with determination. “I know what that would mean for you. Iknow what’s on the line.” She pushes her fingers through my beard, then leans in again, so close I can feel her breath on my lips. “But I want you so bad. Please, Cairn. I’ll beg if I have to. I’ll do whatever you want.”
I squeeze my eyes closed, trying to ground myself, but no matter what I do, I can’t stop my cock from hardening. She’s sitting right on it, and it strains to reach her through my soft trousers.
“I’m too old for you,” I whisper, eyes still closed. I’m trying to remember all the reasons why I shouldn’t do this, but they flash by like streaks of lightning, gone before I can pinpoint their exact location.
Lyra lets out a laugh. “According to who?”
“Society,” I grumble.
She leans in closer, breath tickling my ear. “Fuck society.”
Her sharp words send a bolt of surprise through me, followed closely by desire.
I keep waiting for her to kiss me, to make this decision easy, but she doesn’t. And when I finally open my eyes, she’s staring right at me, watching, waiting.
This is my choice to make; she’s already made hers.
I see myself reflected in her firelit eyes, and I see how scared I am: scared of losing my job, scared of doing something I shouldn’t, scared of what others might think, scared of letting myself think I can have this—haveher.
Fuck society, I think. I’ve never liked it anyway, so why let it control me? Why let it steal from me the joy and pleasure that’s currently seated in my lap, staring at me with hungry eyes and a pouty mouth?
“Fuck society,” I whisper. And I think I’ve made my choice.
Lyra doesn’t even have the chance to smile before I grip the back of her head in my hand and crush her mouth to mine.
