CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

I opened my eyes to sunlight, warm and promising spilling across an absolutely destroyed bed and the still lingering scent of our sins permeating the room.

The orange glow was a gash in the horizon when we finally dropped where we were and passed out.

The foot of the bed, by the looks of it.

I feel the smile spread as wide and bright as the giddy euphoria that promptly filled my chest. I had to bite my lip as I did every morning that I got to wake up with Thoran's possessive hold folding me into him, like he was terrified someone might try to take me if he let his guard down.

I wouldn't change it even if I could, nor would I deprive myself the stiff, weight of his delicious cock smearing clear cum against my hip.

I loved tasting him. I loved wrapping my lips around his fat head and sucking his salty tang on my tongue. But there was one thing ... one key thing that made my stomach burn and my core clench.

Gingerly, I freed myself of his hold and took my place between his long, muscular thighs and took what was mine. I had the rings to prove it. They winked on my finger as I claimed my first taste. The first swipe of my tongue up the underside from base to tip.

The man released a breath. His hips shifted. His dick leaked a little more down across the hard indents across his belly.

I curled my fingers around him and lifted the thick head to clean his mess. To circle his belly button. To close my mouth over the opening and suck.

"Fuck baby..."

That.

God, that.

I lived for that sound. That deep, gruff, sleepy groan that liquified all my senses.

My soul begged for it.

It was my drug to hear that pleading, guttural prayer right before his fingers curled into my hair and he used me, my mouth to get himself off.

He thrust his hips and pumped my head, driving himself deep into the back of my throat in a way I was quickly learning how to control.

I barely gagged anymore.

"God, you have a pretty mouth," he hissed.

I wondered if he would let me swallow him. Sometimes, he got himself close, but would stop and take me instead, and I loved that too, but...

"No!" I gasped when I felt him begin to pull away. "You promised my mouth yesterday."

A dark, feral smirk curled over his face. "You want to swallow me, Blue?"

I nodded, teasing the spongy head with my tongue. "You promised."

He groaned deep in his throat and pulled me slowly back over him. "I did, didn't I?" He paused to moan when I extended my tongue to rub up the hard vein with his pull. "Can't break a promise, right?"

I shook my head, saying nothing as he held me steady and thrust up with his hips.

The space between my thighs throbbed at the thought of being on top when he did that. We hadn't done it that way, but I was certain it was possible.

Abandoning the thing I'd specifically asked for, I crawled on top, hugging his sides between my knees and hovering over his gorgeous appendage.

"Can you...?"

"Fuck you like this?"

At my nod, his smirk widened. His hands fisted my hips, and he slammed up, filling me with such unhampered violence I gasped and nearly pitched forward. My nails sank into the hard muscles of his stomach as sparks erupted across the back of my eyelids.

He jerked out with equal force only to stab up again.

"Thoran!"

He pulled me down with every upward pump, slamming himself to the hilt until I couldn't breathe. Sweat layered across my skin and fire lapped up my core, twisting up my body like barbed wire.

"Get up on your feet," he said.

I started to when a thought occurred to me. Sliding off him, I scrambled to the end table and rummaged inside for a foiled packet. I hurried back and held it to him.

His eyes, bright with the morning sun never wavered off me as he tore it open and slid it down, sheathing himself.

"I have a secret to tell you," he murmured darkly as he guided me over him. He placed my feet on either sides of his hips, putting me in a squatting position over the dick he lifted to align with my opening.

"What?" I breathed, barely focusing on his words when I was mesmerized by the view of him gliding up inside me.

In that position, I could see everything. It was all lewdly on display. My clit protruded from between smooth lips. Wet. Swollen. Sensitive, begging to be touched. Sucked. His erection a force vanishing inside my eager body.

"Should I wait until after I finish fucking you?" he taunted. "You seem distracted."

"No ... no, I'm listening. Tell me," I moaned, nails digging into his chest as the friction, the view had me meeting the hard thrust when downward rolls of my hips.

It hurt slightly.

The depth was deeper, but the way he filled me, the pressure...

Thoran extracted my nails from the gashes I was creating in his skin and laced his fingers through mine, mashing our palms together and giving me leverage that had my head falling back and a sound even I didn't recognize leaving my throat.

"God, Thoran." My hair slapped against my back as we found our rhythm and raced the other to the ledge. "It's like riding a horse," I blurted out loud.

"Rode a lot of horses?" he teased.

I shook my head, sending strands of hair flying around my face. Sticking to my damp brow and temples. "Twice. When I was twelve. Mother wanted to impress one of Father's colleagues. He owned a ranch with the most ... the most beautiful..." I trailed off as my hips discovered the art of taking him to the hilt and rubbing my clit into his base. "Oh! This ... this is nice," I panted.

But my thighs were beginning to ache, unaccustomed to the labor. They trembled as I struggled to keep the momentum. Sweat coated my skin with the effort and I knew I wouldn't last.

My frustration must have shown on my face because Thoran sat up. His arms hooked around me and I settled into his lap with him still nestled inside.

"Try this," he encouraged softly, big hands cupping my backside and rocking me back and forth instead of up and down.

"That's also nice," I whispered into his mouth as I started to wrap my legs around him.

"No," he said, and kept my knees up around his ribs. "Let me."

I did. I let him move me back and forth, grinding my clit against him with every rock and rebuilding the momentum I'd lost.

"Tell me your horse story," he pressed, licking the seam of my bottom lip.

"No." I gasped, not seeing the point of telling him the colleague liked watching young girls in short skirts bounce on the horses or that Mother was hellbent on making certain Father got that contract. Instead, I dropped my head back as his cock swirled and shifted inside me. I sobbed his name and bowed as I felt myself peak. "Tell me your secret."

His mouth burned a path down my chin, my throat, across my chest to take an offered nipple between his teeth. The sweet stab of pain and pleasure drove me hard down on him. My nails dug into his shoulders, anchoring me to him as I bounced and grinded, finding my own pace.

"Are you sure?"

"Thoran!" I whined.

He reached between us and flattened a palm across my quivering belly. His thumb wiggled down to tease my clit, helping me along.

His lips found my ear. "I want to cum in you like I did on our wedding night. I want it so fucking bad I can't think of anything else."

My eyes opened to find him watching me with pits of fire dancing across the amber surface.

"Then call your doctor," I wheezed as my body hitched once. "Then you can fill me up as much as you want."

It was the boldest I'd ever spoken to him, and I knew he liked it when his eyes darkened. The dick inside me swelled. His hands tangled in my hair and he dragged my head up to take my lips. To plunge his tongue into my mouth and swallow my orgasm. He followed a second later with a growl of my name.

"What are you doing today?" Thoran asked after we'd showered and dressed.

I shrugged as he stepped up behind me and zipped my dress. I turned and took his hands and did up the cuffs at his wrist.

"Do you have to work?" I asked. I bit my lips and batted my lashes up at him. "We could sneak out again and go hide in the village."

"Vance will kill us both if we do that again." His arm hooked around my middle. "I'll meet you at the back door in ten minutes?"

I laughed and kissed him. "I might need a word with Vance about sharing you. Might have to put my foot down."

His smile tickled my mouth. "Hm, a fight over me. I'm flattered."

I was going to tell him I would always fight for him when a knock — most likely Cyrus — signaled the end of our time together.

I sighed and peered up at him, taking him in before I lost him for hours that felt infinite.

"See you at dinner?" I murmured.

He brushed back a lock of my hair and nodded. "I'll try to get away sooner."

He always said that, but I knew that wouldn't happen. He was an important man and he had other duties besides keeping me company.

"I might go to the bookstore and fiddle with that devil machine a little more."

Thoran grinned. "You'll get it." He brought my fingertips to his lips. "I'll see if I can meet you there for lunch."

With a final kiss, we left our little bubble to face the rest of the world.

Cyrus offered me a polite inclination of his head before addressing his boss. "Vance says you have a full day and need to start immediately after breakfast."

Thoran and I exchanged glances, both of us grinning sadly.

"Be safe," I told him quietly after breakfast, neither of us making a move to part ways at the main hallway.

"Stay with Cyrus," he countered. "I mean it, Blue. You don't go anywhere without him, and make sure she eats," he added to the other man.

We parted ways with a final kiss.

I understood his apprehension. He'd become a little more possessive the last few days since his birthday. I'd felt him more than once wake up in the night and pull me to him. I felt him exhaling his nightmares into my hair. His fear of losing me was a palpable thing I didn't know how to ease, except to agree to his attempts to protect me.

So, I let Cyrus follow me from room to room while Thoran was in meetings. He sat with me while I read, walked with me across the ground when it was nice out, or followed me to the village. The first few times, it had been awkward being with someone who wasn't Thoran, but I was beginning to enjoy our chats. Cyrus was a lot funnier than I had originally guessed, though he hid it very well beneath his stoic features and dry humor. He reminded me a lot of Malcolm.

"Have you always wanted to be a guard?" I asked him as we climbed up the steps of Quadrant Four as he now called it.

Cyrus stayed behind me, careful to keep his distance, but still close enough to help if my foot slipped on the slippery beams jutting out of the mud.

"I wanted to join the circus once," he mused as we reached the top. "It only lasted a week, but no, not always."

I glanced sideways at him. "I've never been to a circus. It was in a book I read once though. It was very sad. I don't think I could live that life."

His blue eyes met mine, contemplative. "I've been once. Abigail took us when it was passing through."

"What was she like?" I blurted before the topic could get changed.

"Abigail?" At my nod, he shrugged. "Amazing. Kind. Sweet. Loving. Never had a bad thing to say about anyone. An incredible mother. Beautiful."

I studied his side profile, the distant stare in his gaze. "You loved her."

A muscle worked in his throat, but he nodded. "I did. She loved me when no one else did." He cast me a sad little side glance. "Took me in and raised me when she didn't have to."

It took everything in me not to reach for him. "I'm sorry."

He nodded slowly and faced forward again. "Aerys and Thoran were never the same after she passed. None of us were," he murmured quietly.

I fingered the rings Thoran had given me. His mother's rings. I hadn't been lying when I told him I felt her when I wore them. She was a warm, comforting presence at my shoulder. But it was the love she had for Thoran and her family that I felt most. It was like a second heartbeat in my chest. The kind of motherly love I'd only ever read about in books.

Mother never believed in that sort of nonsense. The dead stayed dead, but I had to wonder. There were too many shadows that lingered a little too long in the corners of Lacroix House. There was that ever-present sensation of being watched when I knew I was alone. Ghosts may not be real, but something lived within the walls of my new home, and I hadn't decided yet if it was friendly or not.

Thoran never did get away for lunch, a blessing when the bookshop had been brimming all afternoon until we closed up for the evening. Everyone had somehow heard the news that Thoran Lacroix had married and just needed to meet me.

Ivelle, poor soul, had done the majority of the work filling orders. I ran them to the tables and cleared away the dishes afterwards. At one point, I had to drag Cyrus over to help, a task I knew wasn't in his job description, but he helped. He joined Ivelle behind the counter with a pen and pad, scribbling orders and passing them to Ivelle to fill.

I would have helped. Writing orders wasn't a hard task to do, except I couldn't move two feet without someone demanding to know something about me.

"How did you meet?"

"When did you get married?"

"How are you liking the house?"

"Did you hear about the other wives?"

"When do you plan on starting a family?"

There were also those who felt they needed to offer their advice.

"A happy marriage comes from a full husband. As long as you feed him, you should be happy."

"Don't listen to the talk around here. People are just nosy. Mr. Lacroix would never kill anyone."

The overwhelming urge to tell everyone to sit down and shut up startled even me, but I managed to keep my smile and answered what I could and politely ignored the others. I found it hilarious that Mother's training on how to handle busybodies actually came in handy.

"Holy Jane Austen's petticoat." Ivelle dropped down on the sofa and swung an arm over her eyes. "That is the busiest we have been ... ever."

"I'm really sorry," I said, taking the same armchair Thoran had wrapped my hands up in weeks ago. "I feel like this is my fault."

Ivelle sprung up. "Are you kidding? We made more in one afternoon than we've made in a whole week. I'm sorry, but you're going to have to work like every day now. At this rate, we can get a karaoke machine by the end of the month."

I frowned. "Another machine?"

I loathed the espresso machine. The little beast.

"A karaoke machine," Ivelle said again like maybe I didn't hear her. "You sing in it."

I glanced sideways at Cyrus who was watching Ivelle with a deep frown.

"That's a terrible idea," he said at last.

Ivelle blinked. "No, it's not. It's brilliant. People like making fools of themselves. We can have an open mic night every Friday—"

"And listen to the same Taylor Swift song on repeat for the rest of the night," Cyrus cut in. "Bad idea."

Ivelle gasped loudly, hand flying to her chest. "How. Dare. You. I will not allow you to besmirch Taylor Swift's glorious name. Get out of my ... her store. You're banned. I have that power now as manager."

Cyrus didn't move, but there was amusement in the slight tilt of his lips. "Wait until you hear, never, ever, ever a million times."

I put a hand up to silence them. "What's happening? Who's Taylor Swift?"

"Just the world's greatest—"

"Debatable," Cyrus cut in and was ignored.

"Artist, musician and songwriter of all times," Ivelle carried on, unfazed.

"You forgot actress."

Ivelle narrowed her eyes. "Interesting that you would know that."

"I don't live under a rock."

I took a deep breath. "Will this karaoke idea make other people fight like this?"

"Yes."

"No!"

The two snapped in unison.

I was too tired for this conversation.

"We'll discuss it tomorrow," I decided, pushing to my feet. "It's almost dinner time and I miss Thoran."

We said our goodbyes and locked up the shop. Ivelle waved as she hurried in the opposite direction. I watched her a moment before looking up at Cyrus.

"Should we walk with her? Make sure she gets home safely?"

He glanced over to where Ivelle had stopped to talk to a couple sitting under a tree and shrugged. "We can, but nothing will happen to her. This place is protected. Causing anyone harm within the borders is immediately dealt with by Mr. Lacroix and it's never pretty."

Feeling a little more relieved, I let him lead us towards home. He unlocked the gate and we passed through.

"Thank you for helping today," I said as we followed the path to the house. "I'm beginning to wonder if Ivelle needs more help. Like another person. She says she's fine, but..."

"I would let her decide. She's been running that place a long time and knows it better than anyone else. She will know when she needs help."

He was right. Ivelle knew what she was doing, and I was still learning.

"I should give her another raise," I decided anxiously. "She honestly does way too much for what she's getting."

Cyrus shrugged. "If you like."

I did. I made a mental note to ask Thoran more about it after dinner during our evening walk.

Cyrus's phone went off in his pocket and he unearthed the device to peer at the screen.

"Mr. Lacroix wants to know if we're heading back." But even as he spoke, his thumbs were moving across the screen answering.

Thoran was waiting in the foyer when we returned. My heart leapt at the sight of him, and I rushed into his arms.

"God, I missed you," he breathed into my shoulder.

I squeezed him harder. "Missed you, too. How was work?" I drew back to smooth hairs off his face.

His warm, golden gaze drifted between my eyes to linger on my lips. "Long, but there's somewhere I want to take you tomorrow. No work. I already told Vance."

I beamed and hopped up on my toes to kiss him. "I can't wait."