He put his hands on my face, stared at me for a long moment before setting his mouth over mine, kissing me deeply. This time, I moved a hand between our bodies, finding him and driving him further.
He braced a hand on the table, eased me back, and thrust into me with power that had me sucking in air. Then we moved together, illuminated by the shafts of moonlight that speared down from the room’s high windows. Heat and magic flared again, and I arched my neck to him and felt the press and pinch of his fangs all the way to my core, as if he’d reached the very well of my soul to the love that bound us together.
Our movements became more frantic, more desperate, as we climbed higher, grew closer, breathed faster. His thrusts deepened and he pulled away from my neck, groaning as he reached his ascent.
The sound—deep and primal—sent me over the edge, and I followed him over the top.
• • •
For several minutes—or maybe a few hours; I wasn’t really in a position to calculate—we lay together, naked and sweaty, on the top of the library table.
“He is going to lose his mind about this,” Ethan said, humor in his voice.
There was no need to ask which “he” Ethan meant. “Probably so. You’ll have to increase his budget.”
“Trust me, Sentinel. He wants for nothing.” Carefully, he climbed off the table, then offered a hand to help me up.
I had to sit on the edge of the table for the few seconds until my head stopped spinning. “I’m glad to hear it. It’s one of my”—I couldn’t help snorting—“favorite rooms in the House.”
“Well, now, certainly.”
Standing in front of the table, Ethan put his hands on his hips. And there, naked in his House and the library he’d built for it, he surveyed his demesne. “It’s very freeing, standing here naked in my library.”
“I imagine it would be. And you’ve earned it, given how much you apparently pay for it.” I hopped off the table, but kept a hand on the edge just in case my knees wobbled, and began collecting my clothes.
“Oh, I’ve earned it,” he said with a salacious grin. “Shall I earn it again?”
I put a hand on his chest. “I love you. I do. But we’re twenty minutes from dawn, and I would kick you in the shin to get to a shower right now.”
He shook his head. “And so our romance begins to fade, even before the afterglow has worn off.”
I pulled on pants and a shirt, nodded toward the windows. “We don’t get out of here soon, we’re going to experience an entirely new variety of ‘afterglow.’ And we won’t survive that one.”
“Eternally romantic,” Ethan said, but began pulling on his clothes.
When we’d dressed—or enough to make the trip up one flight of stairs and down the hallway—Ethan turned off the lights, and we left the library in darkness.
We left the books to rest, and went to find darkness of our own.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
BED OF ROSES
When I woke, I found Ethan standing near the desk, staring at me. His body was tensed like that of a soldier preparing for battle, his expression was ice-cold, and a chilly wash of magic had coated the air.
He lifted his hand, held up a small, slightly crumpled piece of paper.
Shit, I thought as recognition dawned.
“Sentinel.” Every syllable was as crisp as his tone, each sound tipped with anger. “What, exactly, is this?”
It was the note from Reed, the one I’d crumpled and thrown into the trash—or thought I had. I must have missed. Ethan had seen it, picked it up, and definitely read it.
“And more to the point,” he continued, taking a step forward, “why have I not seen it before?”
There was no way to avoid it now. “Reed slipped it into yesterday’s paper, or had someone do it. He was just being an asshole, so I threw it away.”
“He threatens you, and you threw it away?”
“He doesn’t care about me, and you know it. Not any more than he cares about any of us. But he loves drama, Ethan, and I’m sure he was hoping you’d give him some.”
Ethan strode to me. “Have there been any others?”
“What? No. Of course not. Look, it doesn’t mean anything. It’s just more of the same. It’s the game he plays.”
With radiating fury, he moved back to the desk, threw the note onto it. “I can’t believe you hid this from me.”
I hadn’t, not very well. But if anything, this conversation proved I’d been right to try. “He’s baiting you, Ethan. And I’m not going to let that happen.”
“He’s threatening you. And I’m not going to let that happen!” He turned back to me. “Reed’s going to be at a charity event tonight at the Chicago Botanic Garden. We’re going. And we’re going to have a word.”
“No. Absolutely not. That’s the last thing—” I stopped, realizing what he’d confessed. “Wait. How do you know where Adrien Reed is going to be tonight?”
“That’s missing the point.”
“No,” I said, rising from the bed and walking toward him. “I think that’s exactly the point. How do you know where he’s going to be?”
Ethan’s eyes glinted like stolen emeralds. “I have friends in high places, too.”
My stomach sank, and I took a step backward. Took a step away from him. I only knew one other person he might have called who knew about charity events and hated Adrien Reed. “You called my father.”
Ethan didn’t respond.
“You called my father and asked him, what, to keep tabs on Reed? Do you have any idea how dangerous that is? To involve him in something like that? He’s human, for God’s sake, and he’s already in Reed’s sights. Did you put a target on his back?”
“I made a single phone call to your father, and I understand he made a single phone call in turn. Your father has his own connections, Merit, and he’s eager to use them. He’s a man with a lot of ego, and he’s not happy about Towerline.” He closed the distance between us. “But more important, Reed already got too close to this House and to you. I won’t let it happen again.”
“By putting my family in danger?”