Page 19

Chapter 19

Tully

A fter fiddling with his distillation machine a little more, we don our cloaks and decide to test the thundersnow.

Cyrus grimaces at the view of the snow out the window. “You’re sure about this?”

“It’s started melting,” I say. “It might not be as bad now.” I hope my guess is right or this is going to hurt.

Argos pushes the door open and a gust of cold air blows in. “Let’s give it a go.”

We step delicately into the snow at the same time. The ground trembles and we freeze.

“Are we about to perish in this nice fluffy snow?” Argos eyes me, his brows lifted.

The sun breaks through the gray clouds and illuminates one of his dark eyes and the cut of a cheekbone. Intelligence puts a spark in his eye and his ridiculous confidence gives his presence a weight I can’t help but be drawn to. He is far more interesting than any other male I’ve known.

I smooth my skirts and glare at the piles of slush and ice. “Nothing about this snow is nice.”

The ground shakes again, and then the whole of it rolls under our feet like a sea wave crashing onto the shoreline. We fall back through the pub’s double doors and onto our arses.

“Great work, you two,” Cyrus says, chuckling from where he’s serving up some roast and potatoes to one of the couples stuck here like us.

Argos stands and holds out a hand. I take it and haul myself to my feet.

“Now what?” the dragon shifter asks.

“You shift into dragon form and fly us to Rustion’s.”

“I would have suggested that ages ago if it weren’t for the fact that I can’t shift when thundersnow is surrounding me. I have tried. Believe me.”

He shudders and starts back toward the kitchen. Cyrus had brought Delixian over, but from what I’d heard around the pub, it had nearly been a terrible idea. Unshifted, Cyrus can’t carry much weight. They both almost ended up in the thundersnow, trapped. They could have been roughed up really badly.

“I’m out of ideas,” I say, straightening my witch’s hat.

“Let’s eat, drink a bit, and wait for a day,” Argos says. “The snow might melt completely if the temperature rises a little more tomorrow.”

I shrug and head for a table by the crackling fire. “I guess we have to.”

“Can we send word to Rustion about the thieves?”

I shake my head and remove my hat to shake a few errant ice flakes from the edge. “No. My magic won’t work correctly with this stuff around and neither will notewater.”

“All right then.” Argos drags two wicker chairs from a table and positions them in front of the hearth. “We just relax as best we can with someone out there who may or may not blow up the mayor’s estate.”

Snorting a wry laugh, I sit beside him and stare into the flames, trying to figure this whole thing out. “So no leads at all after questioning the staff? Are you truly certain nothing they mentioned was helpful. I wish I had been there.”

“Yeah, no, we didn’t get anything really actionable. Cyrus did mention that there were a few extra helpers around right before the storm. He thought they were with one of the supply companies like the brewer or the greenhouse company, but it’s very possible a couple of them were just here and saw an opportunity.”

“They likely just want to sell the artifacts,” I say. “I didn’t see any magical creatures.”

“Right. They probably don’t even know what they stole, only that the stones and mirror looked expensive.”

“Hopefully, they’ll just leave them be until the storm clears. Then they’ll show themselves and probably try to sneak out of town to sell them off.”

Argos shrugs. “It’s a good guess.”

“Either way, we can’t do much about it at present. I just hope Rustion, Nisa, and the rest of the folks at his place don’t suffer for our inaction. I wonder if they are employed by him or they simply took shelter, leaning on his good nature.” I wave my hands. “No use going on about it now. We’re stuck and so are they. Let’s eat and try to stop fretting.”

Cyrus brings us some beer in pewter mugs that keep the brew pleasantly cold. Soon, we are at a table with a few others playing cards and making increasingly fantastic bets.

“If you defeat me in this hand, I’ll hang from the beams and sing you a song,” Argos says.

“What about you singing is a win for me?”

“You’ve never even heard me sing, have you?”

“No, but I assume you have an awful voice or you would’ve tried busking before doing dangerous magic.”

“You, my scary witch, assume wrong.” He stands and begins belting out a song about an innkeeper, three goats, and a bard which details an incredibly questionable polyamory affair.

The whole place dissolves into laughter as he takes a bow and ends his little ditty.

I put my dried beans on the table. “I take it back!” We didn’t want to try to use real coin since most of us only had a few on hand. Argos had suggested beans and the idea had caught on well. “But what do you get if I lose?”

The others excuse themselves to join another group playing dice near the back of the pub. It’s just Argos and me now.

“How about a kiss?” he suggests.

I roll my eyes. “Please.”

“Fine. Then let’s up the risk. How about we forget kissing and singing? Whoever loses the next hand must remove a piece of clothing.”

“Right here in the middle of the pub? I mean, I’m game, of course, but most folks don’t have my level of not giving a piece of shite for what others think.”

“I’m the same way. Although, perhaps we need to take this game upstairs?”

I’ve had just enough beer to say yes .

Laughing, we drag a small card table up the stairs. Always up for fun, Cyrus is applauding us as we work the table through Argos’s doorway.

The room isn’t spinning. I’m not hammered. I’m just woozy from all the twists and turns of the day and ready to throw it all away for a while. Argos deals the cards. His hands mesmerize me with their quick and graceful movements.

I have a killer hand. “Get ready to expose yourself, good sir.”

“Oh really? I don’t know if this is going to go your way.” He shifts one card behind another and purses his lips.

After another drink and five more fast hands of cards, Argos is only wearing his undershorts and I haven’t removed a single item. With every loss, the minotaur took his sweet time pulling off his belt, tunic, boots, socks, and finally trousers. He kept his gaze on me the whole time and to say I was heated up would be a massive understatement.

I tip my hat at him. “Perhaps you should give in before this gets serious?”

He leans forward on the table and my mouth waters just a little at the set of his horns over his intense face.

“Never.”

I play my four empress cards, ease back, and grin up at him. “I’ll take those shorts now.”

He stands, grinning wickedly, and tugs off his undershorts. I lean back and admire the view.

“We should make this a little more fair,” he says, going to a bag he has stashed in the corner. He pulls out some rope and holds it up. “What if I tied you to the bed?”

“You’d die trying.”

“Unless you allow it.”

I tilt my head, impressed at his confidence as he stands there completely naked and asking to bind me to his bed. “What exactly do you have in mind, Minotaur?”

“I want to make you scream, Witch.”

I’m wet as hell already.

“Let’s see what you’ve got.” I slip off my hat and boots, then I sit back on his bed and permit him to tie each of my wrists to the curving brass rods that make up the headboard.

“I’m enjoying the view, but I’m not sure you will be as good at this as I could be,” I say.

He kneels at the end of the bed and begins sliding his hands up my ankles, my calves, and then over my knees. Shivers spread from his touch like he is made of thundersnow and soon my whole body is vibrating—warm and sensitive.

“If you want to tie me up next, I’ll be your glad victim.”

I smile as he unclasps my garter and begins rolling down my thick winter stockings. Once they are on the floor, he kisses his way up and down each leg. His breath is hot and soft on my skin and my eyes flutter closed as pleasure skips across my body in gentle waves. He moves to hover over me, his cock brushing my corseted stomach, and he reaches between my back and the mattress to untie my corset. The release of the corset’s pressure has me taking a deep breath that shifts my breasts free to dust across his powerful chest. My nipples harden and I take another breath, this one uneven. He sets his nose against my hair and inhales.

“You smell amazing.” His hand bunches in my curls. “I love your wild hair.”

He moves lower, and the chains on his horns tickle my cheek as he licks my throat once, twice. His mouth closes over a nipple, and he bites it hard enough to hurt but not so vicious as to injure. Desire ricochets down my torso. I gasp. He slides down farther and dips one horn under my knee.

“I thought perhaps those horns would come in handy,” I say breathlessly.

He hums against my thigh and heat pools at my center. I want him to kiss me there. I need touch now. Not thinking, I try to grab at his horn to ease his mouth to my core, but the rope holds. I growl.

“Ah, ah, ah, Witch. You will be patient.”

He shifts his head so that my other knee is also hooked over a horn. He grins, eyes twinkling with mischief. My body pulses with heat.

His tongue reaches out to circle my most sensitive spot, and I fist my hands and buck my hips as pleasure courses through me. His tongue is much longer and larger than any I’ve seen, and he uses it to sweep across my center and through my folds. The sensation is intense and a climax coils inside me, shivering and nearly ready to spring. He pushes his tongue inside me, deep and unrelenting.

“Argos!”

The heat and wetness of his tongue are driving across the exact right spot inside me and I want more.

“Please, faster.”

He pulls away a bit and whispers, “Not yet, my rival. I think you’ve earned a little punishment for how terribly you’ve treated me.”

“Bastard,” I hiss.

He laughs, kisses my thigh with just a brush of his lips, and then plunges his tongue inside me once more. I gasp and moan as he slowly moves in and out. He’s moving far too slowly for my taste. The pleasure is so incredibly intense that I raise up again, urging him to give me more. He grips my hip and meets my gaze again. What is he on about?

Something tickles my arse. His tail. He uses the tip to brush my arse cheeks while he keeps his tongue delving deep and slow inside of me. I’m shaking. Sweating. I’m near the edge.

And then he eases my legs onto the bed and rises up to crawl on top of me.

“Argos, no. I need more.”

“I’m in charge, remember? You’ll come when I say you’re ready.”

“You’re going to suffer for this.”

My body is trembling as he sets his cock against my center. He rubs himself up and over, not entering me but rubbing along the outside. Every time his slightly swollen knot runs over the right spot, I see stars. My heart beats low in my belly. He increases his pace and then I’m coming so hard I can’t take in any air. The climax roars through me.

“Take me, Argos.” I want him inside of me. Now.

“I can’t, Love,” he pants into my ear. “It might hurt you.”

I peer down between us to see the knot at the base of his cock. It’s more swollen now and rubbing against me creating more waves of pleasure. I climax again, and he goes with me this time, his horns knocking into the wall above the headboard and his grunts so incredibly satisfying to my ears.

With quick fingers, he unties me, cleans us up, and then collects me into his arms.

“I’m not usually a cuddler,” I say. He’s so warm and large and it feels perfect. Not a chance I’m telling him that though. “But I’ve had a little too much to drink.”

“You’re just resting. No cuddling happening. Totally understandable.”

But I can hear the grin in his voice.

“Are you teasing me?” I ask in a whisper that would scare most people.

“I would never,” he whispers back.

“Says the male who just tied me to his bed.”