Total pages in book: 177
Estimated words: 171450 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 857(@200wpm)___ 686(@250wpm)___ 572(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 171450 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 857(@200wpm)___ 686(@250wpm)___ 572(@300wpm)
“Fine. Fuck it. What do you want?”
There was a pause in her mind. Like a flat silence. “Are you okay?”
“Am I okay?” she practically snarled. “After what you did to me?”
Another long pause. “You’re louder than normal.”
“I am jet-lagged and tired, and my magic is low. I can’t keep you out the way I have been. Not for lack of trying, mind you.”
“Should you go pickpocket unsuspecting strangers to keep your defenses up?”
“No, I’m very safe right now behind Graves’s wards. In his bed.”
A longer pause. Long enough she thought he might let her sleep, but she wasn’t that lucky.
“I heard about the Ash Door.”
Kierse sighed heavily. “Of course you did. You still have Druids on the inside?”
“The Druids were the only thing I cared about for the last hundred years. They were my entire world for half a millennium. It is not that easy to extricate me from them.”
“So Niamh tells me,” Kierse grumbled.
“Niamh might be sitting on my throne, but we both know it doesn’t belong to her.” Lorcan sighed. “The fact that I lost everything isn’t why I was checking in. I have a theory about the door.”
“Not interested.”
His laugh was almost infectious the way it resonated through her mind like honey sliding down her throat. “I’ll remind you that you were yelling at me through the bond. I just wanted you to be able to sleep.”
“Fine. Then silence the bond from your end. I’m sure you can do that.”
Another long pause. “I can.”
Kierse squeezed her hands into fists “Then do it.”
“I will if that’s what you want, but would you meet me tomorrow to talk about the door?”
Kierse released her breath. What if he did have information about the door and she ignored him? Maybe it would be worthwhile to find out. In exchange, she’d get information and finally some peace and quiet?
“Five minutes.”
“An hour.”
“Fifteen.”
“Thirty.”
“Twenty,” she snapped.
“Done. Sushi in Hell’s Kitchen at say one?”
She wanted to scream. Was he really listening to her thoughts?
“Lorcan!”
Lorcan’s laugh rang through her mind again. “I’ll take that as a yes. Good night, little songbird. Sleep well.”
And then the connection between them went blissfully and utterly silent. She could still sense him if she concentrated, but it was like before when he’d been living in Brooklyn and she hadn’t been able to feel him until she was right in his territory.
A weight lifted off her shoulders, and she felt her body sink into the bed. She could finally relax, could finally sleep.
Except that wasn’t what she wanted. Not if the connection was really silent. If it was really quiet, then she wanted Graves. Right now.
Chapter Fourteen
The door to Graves’s office was still open, and he was deep in thought. His hand was buried in his hair with a furrow on his brow as if he was solving the mysteries of the universe.
Kierse leaned against the doorframe, letting his button-up shirt hang loose over her breasts. “Hey.”
“Couldn’t sleep?” he said around the pen still in his mouth.
“Wasn’t planning on sleeping.”
His head came up, and he did a fast double take, his eyes rounding and then narrowing with desire. He dropped the pen and leaned back in his chair, a smirk on his devilish lips. “You’re wearing my shirt.”
“Yes.”
He crooked his finger at her. “Let me get a look at you.”
She strode across the room, and his hands slid up her thighs, trailing goose bumps in their wake.
“Cold?”
She shook her head, but he was already lifting her up so she could straddle his lap. His hands were on her ass before dragging back up her bare legs with a slow, deliberate grace. The heat from all of that built-up magic brushed through her.
“Have you had your fill?”
“Never,” he said as he slid a finger under the edge of her thong. He continued trailing his fingers upward, a delicate map of her body. “I’ll never have my fill of you.”
“I wish you could read me,” she whispered.
His lips came to her collarbone, where he pressed a firm kiss into her skin. A possessive mark. “I don’t need to read you to know you, Wren.” His tongue trailed across her collarbone, nudging the edge of his shirt off her shoulder. “We spent many nights together with me learning your body when we never thought I’d get into that beautiful head.”
“I know, but…”
“No buts tonight,” he told her as he kissed down her arm to where the material of his shirt pooled to the side.
One hand slid up to her breast, and her head tipped back as he palmed it. “Graves,” she gasped.
“That is the singular word you’re allowed to use tonight.”
“But…”
“You get my name,” he said, taking the nipple into his mouth. “Yes.” A swirl around the sensitive bud. “Harder.” He nipped at it. “And more.”
“More,” she groaned.
“Better.” His tongue ran along her breast. “I think both need equal attention, don’t you?”