When she’s finally where she belongs, I’ll make sure she has any trinket she could ever desire.
I glance at my watch. The security teams are on set schedules, so it’s fairly easy to slide inside when nobody’s looking. I could probably get Alana out, but I want her to come to me. Oh, it’s pride and arrogance, but I can live with that. Plus, when she voluntarily knocks on my door, it will be her own choice. I don’t want her to give me a hard time about it, since no doubt she’ll want to leave more than once during our lives. Hopefully long lives if I can cure the curse.
I won’t let her leave, which is actually an assurance my girl needs.
Of course, if she doesn’t get it in gear, I will take matters into my own hands. For now, I’ve taken illegal and likely immoral steps to keep her safe and have no intention of letting her know about them.
My phone buzzes and I read a note from Renaldo that he’s still working on finding the money behind the kidnapping attempt on Alana. He’s turning into a decent mole.
Buttoning up my shirt, I watch her even breathing and take note of the bruise on her delicate face. The purple has darkened and a sliver of yellow shows along the hollow beneath her cheekbone.
Cal Sokolov’s death is going to be painful. Horribly so.
She murmurs in her sleep and draws her legs up, frowning. Is this another nightmare? Then she whispers my name, and sweet honey flits across my tongue.
Ah. Apparently I’m not as frozen inside as I thought, because my heart thumps. Hard. “Alana.” I crouch down and brush her jawline. “Wake up.”
She awakens, her eyes more green than brown in the early light. Pink infuses her cheeks. “Um, hi.”
I kneel in front of her. “Having a good dream?”
The pink deepens to rose and she winces, gingerly touching the bruise on her cheekbone. “Shut up.”
“Be nice or I won’t make you feel better.” I snag her good ankle and pull her around, tossing her legs over my shoulders before enclosing her entire cunt with my mouth.
She arches and makes a sound deep in her throat.
“That’s better.” I snap the side threads of her panties and remove the offending garment before I go at her, wanting to give her pleasure for a few moments. She’s already there, coming hard against my mouth with a muffled shriek. It’s not enough. I lick her again, taking my time, and drive her slowly back up.
Her lithe body stiffens.
“Stay relaxed,” I mumble against her engorged clit.
She shudders. “You stay relaxed.”
I smile, lean back, and lightly slap her clit. “You want to play?”
She frowns up at me. “Not really.”
“Then behave.” I lean back down and take my time with my mouth and fingers, forcing her over all too soon. She tightens and covers her mouth again to stifle the scream. Kind of. I let her come slowly down and then stand, scooping her from the bed and striding into the bathroom where I place her in a lavender oil-scented bubble bath I drew earlier.
Her moan is much like the one when she comes.
“Stay sitting,” I order, reaching for a hair tie on the counter that I quickly use to clumsily secure the mass atop her head. “All right. Lie back.”
She slides beneath the bubbles, her eyes closing, pleasure relaxing her face. The lavender should both soothe her and reduce inflammation. “This is lovely.”
As is she.
I snag a towel and place it by the tub so she doesn’t have to reach for it. Then I put a pill and a glass of water on the edge of the bath. “Take these.”
Her eyelids open. “I have a dance tonight.”
“It’s early. It’ll be out of your system by lunchtime.” After hopefully reducing her pain as well as some inflammation.
She does so, her gaze remaining on me. It’s contemplative. “Why are you being so nice to me?”
“Because you’re mine.”
“What if I wasn’t?”
“There isn’t a universe or reality where you’re not.”
She moves slightly and the water splashes. “You’re so sure of everything.”
I truly am. She looks fragile and defenseless in the bubbles; the bruise on her cheek appears painful. Fury nearly engulfs me, and only the fear in her eyes grounds me, forcing me to remain in control. So I sit on the damn bathroom floor to face her. “We need to talk.”
Her chin lifts, and bubbles cover the bottom half. “Sounds serious.”
“You can’t charge the aquamarine crystals at Aquarius Social right now.” I keep my voice gentle as I issue the order.
Life sparks into her eyes. “I’m not letting you take Aquarius under, Thorn. Period.”
“If I wanted Aquarius under, I wouldn’t require your assistance.” I’m fairly certain the attacks against me originated with the Rendales and TimeGem and thus I have no reason to hurt her father or his company. At the moment, anyway. “This is about your safety.”
“Are you threatening me?” She sounds more curious than frightened or even angry.
I sigh. “You’d know it if I were.” Navigating this situation with her is taking more energy than I’d like, especially since my feet are freezing and it feels like a block of ice has settled at the base of my spine. If my spine freezes, I’m screwed. “Have you told anybody about my synesthesia?”
