Crunch.
“Stop looking at me like that.” Nathem swiped his finger over the syrup on my lip and brought it to his mouth. We had made out twice, but it never went past that. Despite the boundaries in the clubhouse being translucent at best, Nathem wasn’t a taker. He chose carefully and never saw me as something to be used and discarded.
“I will whenyoustoplooking likethat!” I smiled, eating the last of my toaster waffle perfection.
“Or what?” He taunted, breathing into my neck.
I wonder if it hurt when he sold his soul to the god of gray sweatpants? Because holy fuck.
“Or I might let you kiss me.”
Man, I was feeling flirty. Or deflective. Or both…or deflective.
“I’ve already kissed you,” he teased, spreading my knees apart and scooting my ass to the edge of the counter. “But I have always wondered what you taste like,” he said, skimming my waistband, making the world slide into the quiet and stay there forever.
“Nate,” I breathed.
“You know, I have always wondered why Wolfe can’t keep his hands off you?”
I panted, watching a smile break on his lips.
“Or why Threx’s dick never goes limp whenever you’re around.”
Suddenly, the air moved. Swirling. Deep and rolling.
“Do you know how hard it is to kill bad guys with a fucking boner?” He bit at my smirk. “Maybe you are a faerie.”
I gazed into his eyes while dipping my fingers between my legs, covering them with the sensations he created in my body.
Nathem watched them sink low, the edges of his composure shifting only slightly when I offered them to his mouth.
He swallowed.
“Are you trying to get me killed, faerie?” he asked, several golden strands of light haloing his face.
“You’re right,” I mumbled through a smirk. “It’s not worth it.”
“Fuck you,” he growled, yanking me until I was taut against him. I let out a heady laugh when his breath swiped over my fingers in a gentle growl.
“Fucking hell,” he moaned in a furious suck. I laughed when he nibbled, working his tongue until it claimed every inch.
Nathem’s mouth was wicked, trained, and I was all too aware of the ways it could ruin me.
“So am I one?” I leaned into his chest, but his fist tightened around my waistband, knotting the pressure at my clit.
Goddamn.
“Are you what?” he asked, slow and considering.
Would he do it? Taste me on this counter? Make me his breakfast?
A flash of resistance curled through me, because sex with Wolfe was reformation. And Thay? My deathbed. But Nathem was my friend. My person. And so what if I craved a little fun before I went and blew everything the fuck up.
“A faerie?” I palmed his chest, applying the sweetest pressure.
“You should know,” his lips swept over my ear, each syllable burning hot, “I jerked off to your tits this morning.” He took my hand and guided it between my legs. “Maybe return the favor?”
This was how he got what he wanted without taking it. Clever Irish devil. He leaned forward, his muscled arm stretching past me as he braced himself on the counter, nudging his nose along my neck in slow, stupid circles. Perhaps I should stay off BookTok before my ovaries explode.