Page 36 of Maneater

Meric grinned and leaned back, scooting up the bed.

I followed, climbing on slowly. My hands and knees sank into the mattress until I was over him.

Straddling his waist, I could feel his arousal building beneath me.

I’d have to move quickly if I wanted to get through the night without giving him what he expected.

He reached for the laces of my corset, but I redirected his hands, sliding mine to the hem of his tunic and pulling it off instead.

His chest was smooth and unmarked, lacking the muscle I usually preferred.

I ran my hands over him with a light touch, tracing the lines of his chest and shoulders. Meric hovered between impatience and ease, caught somewhere in between as I pressed my palms into his skin.

“I’m not paying you for a massage,” he muttered roughly. “Let’s get on with it.”

“Shh,” I said, letting a finger drift closer to his inner thigh. “I like to touch before I taste.”

That earned a lust-dazed grin. Amazing, really, how quickly he swung from irritated to eager with just a few well-placed words.

“Close your eyes,” I whispered, leaning down to his ear, letting my breasts brush against his chest. My hips pressed into him. “I want to feel you.”

Meric hardened beneath me, a low grunt of approval slipping out.

He didn’t stop me as I kept moving my hands over him, slow and steady, until his breathing began to even out.

His eyes were closed now, heavy with ale and the pull of sleep.

I kept tracing soft circles across his skin until light snores rose from his chest. Relief washed over me, like a breath I’d been holding.

Finally.

I eased my hands to a stop and carefully slid off him. He had all but drunk himself into a stupor. But even if he hadn’t, I never would have let it go that far. I had no intention of sleeping with him, only in his bed.

I could have paid for my own room. I had enough coin, but something told me to hold on to every copper.

This freedom was new, fragile, and still could be taken from me at any moment.

The more I saved, the better my chances of breaking away from my old life for good.

Still, I wasn’t sure I could outrun the fear that followed me.

I would have left today if I could, but no one traveled at night.

Even if I emptied my whole coin pouch, I doubted anyone would take me.

I turned to where Meric’s tunic had fallen and searched the pockets until I found the room key.

I wasn’t tired, not really. I had planned to sleep sitting up against the bed, like I had in the carriage with Leya, in case I needed to run.

But there would be no sleep now. My thoughts were too loud. I needed to get out of here.

Not wanting to cross paths with anyone inside, I did the first thing that came to mind: I slipped out back to the stables.

The night air was cool against my skin, and the quiet beyond the inn offered a small sense of relief.

A few horses rested in their stalls, but I spotted the one Meric had described, off to the right.

I slowed and approached her. She was beautiful in a way that reminded me of Bellona.

The memory of the brown horse pulled at something deep, a dull ache that faded as quickly as it came.

“Hi, sweet,” I murmured to the spotted gray mare. “Sigrid, is it? That’s what he calls you?”

She watched me warily at first, but when I offered a bit of dried apple from my pouch, she stepped closer.

Nearby, I spotted a cart with its wheels locked down to keep anyone from running off with it.

It had to be Meric’s. It looked roomy enough for one, maybe two if you didn’t mind being cramped.

Not that it mattered. I wouldn’t be in it for long.

Once I reached the next city, I’d find another rider.

Sigrid nipped at my cloak, looking for more treats, but I calmed her with a gentle hand. “Maybe later,” I whispered. “I’ll see what I can find for you.”

At some point during the night, sleep finally pulled me under, quieting my restless thoughts. I slipped away from the stable, much to Sigrid’s disappointment. She had grown fond of me over the time we’d spent together, but sleep was calling now.

I slipped back through the rear entrance of the inn, retracing my steps to Meric’s room.

The noise from earlier had faded and the building had gone quiet.

When I reached the door, it was just as I had left it.

I pressed my ear to the wood, listening.

In the stillness, the steady rhythm of Meric’s snores came through .

Good. He was still asleep.

When I stepped inside, the first thing I saw was Meric facedown on the floor, a linen sheet twisted around his waist. For a moment, I froze. Then, realizing he was breathing, I had to suppress a scoff of disbelief. The idiot had rolled off the bed and hadn’t even noticed.

I eased the door shut behind me and padded across the floor.

Careful not to wake him, I moved to the bed.

If he wasn’t going to use it, there was no reason to let it go to waste.

Quietly, I slipped under the covers, the mattress dipping beneath me as my head sank into the pillow.

My muscles loosened, drawn toward the warmth.

With my pocketknife clutched in my hand, I let sleep take me, pulling me far from this place.