Why am I bringing up the fucking yeti? Some part of me is screaming, slamming her fists and forehead against the door to freedom. The rest of me is intentionally closing—maybe for good. “I never realized how many monst—” I cut myself off at the flash of alarm on Seraphine’s face. Right. That’s probably insulting.
“How many different types of individuals may be looking for a home in the city. And I seem to be adept at catering to a certain crowd.”
“You’ve certainly proven that with this place.” Seraphine gestures delicately around the room. I take the opportunity to close the distance between us, shoving the keys deeper into my pocket and freeing my hands to clasp hers. The touch is life-changing, like frisson in silk.
“Give me one more chance,” I say, eyes darting to her lips and back, teeth biting my own. “Let me show you perfection.”
Seraphine stares back, and this time, I don’t imagine the tighter press of her against me, the split second of her gaze mirroring mine—a nearly invisible dance between temptations.
“You already have,” she purrs, voice barely more than a murmur. “What could possibly outdo this place?”
“I’ll show you.”
We are so much closer now—dangerously close. I am on a perilous ledge, willing to throw myself onto the sharp rocksbelow for even the slightest chance that Seraphine would catch me before I meet a gory end. “Let me show you more.”
“I’d like that.” Neither of us is talking about condos anymore.
I kiss her, launching myself to my tiptoes to snatch the tiniest distance left, surrendering what little breath I was holding to her hungry answer. Her lips are inviting—soft, warm, gently fragranced. I think briefly of settling into a perfect hot bath after a long day before Seraphine’s hands are at my waist, her wings enveloping us in a floral cocoon. I venture a more demanding kiss, parting my lips slightly. She answers, hands fisting the back of my blouse, a deep moan bubbling from someplace molten. Her tongue slips in, exploring my mouth with none of the politeness I expected. This is a woman unraveling, gripping what anchors she can before she’s left a pile of loose ends. I don’t bother holding back my gasp of pleasure when she nips my bottom lip with a fang.
Something in Seraphine shifts, and her touch grows firmer, more confident. She slides a hand up my back, bracing me against her solid form, sliding a leg between mine. I moan at the friction, embarrassed and thrilled that I’m already so turned on that I’ll have to dry clean these slacks. I would dry-clean every item in my wardrobe if it meant she kept touching me like this. I can’t stop myself from chasing the heat between us, grinding against her, and groaning at the slightest shift of her body against mine. Every nerve is on fire, my skin like a bed of hot coals, every touch stoking me higher and higher.
My hands roam over Seraphine as she angles me for another deep probe of her tongue, tracing all the places my eyes have wandered the last torturous few hours. Her muscular arms and shoulders, the thrillingly soft stretch of her graceful neck, stopping to cup her brilliant, entrancing face in both hands.
Then, as suddenly as we started, we stop. One moment, I’m enveloped in Seraphine’s floral scent, the musky heat of her,the soft flutter of her wings, the next I’m standing alone in the middle of the master suite. I shiver, knocked off balance, as if I’ve had the blankets ripped off the bed on a cold, lonely night.
Seraphine’s breath comes hard and fast from across the room, her back pressed against the floor-to-ceiling windows, one hand stretched out for the sliding door.
“Please,” I gasp, remembering her departure the night before. “Not yet.”
She licks a salacious tongue across her mouth. I can feel her heated gaze on every part of me. “There’s no reason to rush,ma belle. Pleasure is best delivered when we don’t race the sun.” Closing her eyes, Seraphine tilts her head back against the window, placing her free hand to her chest. I watch, transfixed, as she slows her breathing, her wings still trembling. “You have a hypnotizing effect on me, and I won’t endanger us both by risking the dawn.”
I let my hands drop to my sides with a churlish smack against my thighs. “What does that mean? Why do magical beings speak in riddles all the time?”
Seraphine laughs. I could drink the sound. “I love your bluntness, Anya. Don’t ever swallow it for my sake.” She finally tilts her head forward, turning those deep eyes back on mine. “I have to go home. I don’t imagine it’ll be easy for you to explain why a stone woman is lounging at your showing.”
“Stone—oh.” From somewhere deep in the back of my mind, an old fairytale rule whispers. Gargoyles turn to stone at dawn, waiting for the sunset to roam their domains safely in the night. That would explain the insane hours we’ve been keeping.
Seraphine smiles knowingly at the realization stretching across my face.
“But the sun won’t rise for another four hours at least.” I’m whining. I can hear it in my voice, and I’m powerless to suppress it.
She arches a brow as she prowls across the room to me. My heart slams in my ribs watching her, every part of me panicking at the approaching predator. But I’d lay down as her next meal if she asked me.
“You think four hours is enough for me,ma belle?” Her voice lowers, rasping with barely restrained want. My stomach flutters as she brushes my cheek with the back of her hand, the barest contact reminding me how empty I am, clenching my legs on nothing.
“Tomorrow?” My voice cracks, and I don’t have time to be embarrassed when Seraphine drops a starving kiss to my lips, wings fluttering again as if they would enclose us on their own.
“Tomorrow,” she says, as if the single word were an unbreakable oath.
I watch, stunned, burning, desperate, as she turns for the patio doors and slips out once more into the night. Her absence leaves me too horny to move, my first step rubbing my slacks against my engorged clit. I drop to the bed face-first, slamming three fingers inside my wet and ready cunt. I ride my own hand, thinking of the way Seraphine’s mouth shaped “tomorrow” over and over again until I come with a muffled scream, face pressed into the expensive duvet. Then I scream again—at the frustration of having to wait, the confusion seeping in post-release. I lay there, panting, fingers still hooked inside myself, hot tears stinging but unshed.
I willingly gave up the easy path to my freedom for a creature—a woman. Anincrediblewoman. But not even forher—just for one more nightwithher.
“What are you doing?” I mumble into the bed. With a sigh, I push myself up, careful to keep my slick hand off any surfaces as I wash up in the bathroom.
The mirror betrays me: red-rimmed eyes, hair mussed from Seraphine’s attention, bottom lip bruised and swollen from herfangs. I touch it gingerly, wondering at the way my life seems to be tipping wildly in a direction I didn’t anticipate.
IthoughtI didn’t want.