He quirks an eyebrow. “Did that count?”
The room plunges back into darkness. “Uh…” I can’t think. I’m supposed to talk?
His laugh is a deep, rich rumble. “I guess all that purring and panting wasn’t what I thought it was.”
“Nope.” I giggle, sounding absurd. Or happy. Or both.
He sighs, a smile in his voice. “Obviously, I have more work to do.”
“Obviously,” I say, feeling amazingly light. Lies must weigh a lot—at least on me.
Never one to waste time, Griffin gets right down to proving he’s up to the task.
There’s something incredibly sensual about making love in the total dark. Anticipation is magnified, heightened until every touch becomes a heart-stopping mystery waiting to be solved. A whisper of breath across my skin has me tensing in eager expectation. The warm brush of lips leaves me shivering with desire. The subtle tightening of Griffin’s grip intoxicates, just like the surprise of a nip, or the low rasp of a groan. In the quiet dark, our breath and our bodies speak a language of their own, weaving a spellbinding story in which only the two of us exist.
Griffin rocks slowly above me, his deep, thorough strokes branding me from the inside out. Sweet tension coils within me, and I cling to him, gasping every breath until I shatter in his arms. He follows me, shuddering, his face in the crook of my neck and his muffled roar a song in my heart.
Aftershocks ripple through us. I sigh into Griffin’s hair. It smells of citrus and bright summer sun. I feel changed, once again forever altered by the man still gently pulsing inside of me.
He loves me anyway.
We both sleep this time. I wake up to Griffin striking my stumpy piece of flint to light the oil lamp. With him sitting on the edge of the bed, his considerable weight buckles the small mattress so much that I have to brace myself to keep from rolling into him.
“This wouldn’t have lasted long,” he mutters, finally getting a decent enough spark to light the wick. “You’d have gotten three fires out of it. Maybe four.”
I rise to my knees, slip my arms around his waist from behind, and kiss his shoulder. “I wasn’t running away, remember? I could have, you know…gotten more?”
He grunts. “My family is in shock. They think you broke me.”
Pressure clamps down hard on my heart, suspending its next beat. He says it neutrally, without accusation, but Griffin only ever speaks the truth to me. For the time he couldn’t find me, I broke him.
“I’m sorry. I love you.” Words I never used to say, would have never even considered saying, are so easy now. If anyone knows that tomorrow isn’t a given, it’s me. I’ll never hesitate again.
He scrubs both hands down his face and then braces his elbows on his knees. “I should have looked here earlier. I don’t know why I didn’t. It’s just you always…”
“Run,” I finish for him. “Of course you’d think I’d run.”
“I thought I drove you away.” The sudden bleakness in his voice slices straight through me.
I slip off the bed and drop to my knees between his legs. Griffin instinctively reaches out to touch me. His hands delve into my hair, and he runs the long, dark waves between his fingers.
I gaze up at him. Soft light plays over his striking features—the hard planes of his cheekbones, his strong jaw, the slight hook in his nose. “I’ll still run, Griffin. The difference now is that I’ll run to you.”
He looks at me for a long time, his gray eyes inscrutable. “You’d better.”
I arch an eyebrow. “Or you’ll spank me?”
His mien changes. His expression brims with interest, and a little thrill zips like an arrow right to the target between my legs.
His already deep voice drops in pitch. “Possibly.”
“I might hit back,” I announce, meaning it.
He laughs, hauls me up, flips me onto the bed, and then covers my body with his.
“Griffin?”
“Hmm?” He sounds sleepy again. How is that even possible?
“We have to leave our cave.”
He has me draped mostly on top of him. His fingers trail lightly back and forth across my bare shoulder, tickling a little in a way that gives me chills.
“Why?” He doesn’t sound at all convinced, despite having a realm to run and—I guess we’re really going there—invasions to plan.
“Because if I don’t eat, I’m going to get very grumpy.”
“Ah.” There’s a beat of silence. “We can’t have that.”
Finally, blowing out a long breath, Griffin stands, taking me with him. He’s speedier at dressing than I am, and I hate every second he spends covering his magnificent body. I frown even harder when he hands me a pair of pants and a high-necked, long-sleeved tunic better suited for the dead of winter or the far north. From the irate looks he keeps leveling on my discarded nightgown, I think the conservative suggestion of clothing is a reaction to the nearly transparent dress.
“You didn’t like it?” I add the rumpled garment to the pile of belongings I’m loading back onto the sheet.
“You were utterly irresistible in it.”
“So what’s the problem?”
“Kaia,” he mutters darkly.
“She’s fifteen. It’s only fair she gets to explore…certain things.”
Griffin seems to choke on something. The idea of Kaia exploring things probably.