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‘Harder,’ I breathed, grabbing his shoulders. ‘Harder.’

He grinned and slammed into me.

I arched against him with a stifled cry, sparks firing behind my eyelids at that first brutal thrust – yes.This.The rigid steel of his cock, thick and hot and perfect, stretching me wide, claiming every inch of me … I let my head roll back against the shelves and surrendered. Unintelligible moans were spilling over my lips, cries of pleasure, pleas for more – and more he gave me, devastating stroke after devastating stroke, until I could do nothing but hold on for dear life andfeelas he fucked me closer and closer to the edge …

I still reached it far too soon.

My orgasm tore through me with violent intensity, blurring the brightly coloured room as I tensed to the tips of my toes around him and shattered. Creon buried himself in my convulsing body one last time, then followed with a gutturalgrowl. His muscular weight collapsed into me as I gasped and shuddered in his arms, and for one limitless moment, we were one – our bodies fused, our pleasure tangled together, a single savage creature locked in one all-consuming pulse of ecstasy.

The world around us returned slowly, as if even reality itself was loath to disrupt what had just happened.

Around me, green and yellow and orange clothes had tumbled from their shelves, yanked out by my thoughtless hands as I grasped for grip and balance. A leather trunk had fallen over. Shoes had spilled out over the dark floor, and the dresses I’d selected lay rumpled amidst the mess, like unwanted rags too old to be worn.

‘Oh,’ I got out, breathless and boneless, and again, ‘Oh.’

Creon slipped out of me and lowered me to the ground so gently, arms wrapping around my shoulders and pressing me against him as soon as I regained my footing. His wings swept around us as he buried his face in my hair, breathing in my scent as if he’d never smell anything like it again.

‘You’ll destroy me one day, cactus,’ he whispered, and I couldn’t tell whether it was laughter or some other emotion choking his voice. ‘You’ll be the utter ruin of me, and hell take me, you’ll be worth every moment of it.’

That little tremor …

I should ask.

I should worry.

But tomorrow was close and only coming closer. His strong arms held me like nothing was wrong with the world, and right now, I wanted so badly to believe it – to sink into this brief, sweet state of oblivion and linger there, because gods knew when we’d next have a moment of peace again.

So I tightened my grip on his torso. I buried my face in his chest. I breathed the sweet, musky, summer scent of himand didn’t allow myself to wonder or ask questions, to assume anything but that what he’d promised me was true—

That he was fine.

He wasfine.

Chapter 18

‘Did you pack yourtoothbrush?’ Lyn immediately enquired as I appeared for breakfast the next morning, eyeing the modest dimensions of the bag I carried with me. ‘Plenty of clean underwear? And something warm for—’

Having just dragged myself out of bed an hour before sunrise, it took an effort not to groan. ‘I’ve packed bags before, Lyn. And morning.’

I received a muttered greeting from Tared, whose mouth was full of bread and eggs, and from Hallthor, who sat bent over some sword design again and seemed much too busy to concern himself with the contents of my luggage. The empty plate by the latter’s side suggested that Ylfreda had been here until she was called away to deal with some injury elsewhere, no matterthe time of day; Beyla was nowhere to be seen, and Edored was presumably still sleeping at this ungodly hour.

I couldn’t entirely blame him.

‘Yes, I know,’ Lyn said, looking pale and tired beside her bowl of yoghurt and berries, ‘but this time I won’t be able to send an alf after you if you’ve forgotten your coat. Youdohave a coat, don’t you?’

‘I’ve nicked one of yours,’ I said, plopping my bag into the nearest corner and making for the dining table. ‘The only one I had down here was red. Don’t worry, though – I’m bringing my own underwear.’

She let out a watery laugh. By her side, Tared swallowed his mouthful of food, threw me half a grin, and said, ‘I assume you packed a knife?’

‘Three of them,’ I said.

‘A compromise,’ Creon wryly added, stepping into the room behind me with his shirt three-quarters buttoned and his hair bound into a messy bun. ‘I was aiming for eight, but her ladyship seemed to think—’

‘That the consuls might disapprove of me striding in like a walking armoury?’ I finished, sinking into a free seat and rolling my eyes at him. ‘Odd notion, I know.’

He chuckled but made no further attempts to change my mind – wisely so, since we’d cycled through the same discussion about five times over the course of the previous day and never arrived upon a different outcome. ‘It’s your head on the line.’

‘And a very pretty one, at that,’ I said, nodding. ‘Could someone pass me the bread, please?’