Chapter Fifty-Three

Her heart rate picked up as he pulled her away from the comfort of the sitting room, up the first flight of stairs, and then toward his rooms. These weeks, she had never gone inside them and always respected his privacy. She would be lying if she said she wasn't curious. But she was naturally curious, and there were few things left secret to a thief with a good set of picks.

When he pushed the far door open, she found his bedchamber. It was stunning in both the simplicity of the furniture and the richness of the pieces he had chosen. Unlike the opulence of the rest of the house, this felt more like a sanctuary. It felt like Graves.

"I've never done this, either," he admitted.

"Done what?"

He pulled her into his inner sanctuary. "Brought someone to my room."

She swallowed. "An all-new experience."

"It doesn't happen often when you've lived as long as I have."

She wandered his inner sanctum, taking in the small details that must have mattered to him. The carved wood bird figurines on top of a dresser; a copy of Edgar Allan Poe's The Raven on his dark mahogany nightstand; a handful of European coins, as if he'd just returned from a trip, though they looked far out of date; a portrait of the real Anne Boleyn in her signature B pearl necklace; and another painted in muted colors with two figures in a field of wildflowers, looking down at a little green book. One of them could have been Graves for all she knew.

She understood then why his privacy was so important to him. A place where no one else could see him, where he could just be himself. And he was allowing her to invade that space.

"I'm glad you showed me this," she said, fingering a clear vase full of winter flowers.

Then she returned to him, taking his hand and drawing him to the bed.

"We don't have to..."

She put a finger to his mouth. "Shh... I want this." She slowly peeled off her top, tossing it to the floor next to him. "I want this with you."

He didn't object further, just skimmed the top of her pants as he pushed her back on the bed. He popped the button as his lips came to hers. Her own hand came up to the buttons of his shirt, slowly sliding them open.

"I've never been with someone I haven't been able to read before."

"We did just fine in the library."

He laughed against her mouth. "That was rushed. Now, I want to take my time."

"I just want you." She gasped as his bare hands ran across the sensitive skin of her stomach.

"I'm going to have to learn what makes you make those incredible noises," he said with a cocky, devilish smile on his lips.

His fingers dipped under her waistband, stroking lazily along her hip bones. She groaned and tried not to squirm under his touch. His eyes were curious and hyper-focused on her.

"And how I do love to learn new things," he purred.

He removed her bra in one fluid motion. Her breasts spilled out of their enclosure, and his eyes moved straight to them. Next came his hands, commanding and firm as he reacquainted himself with them. She tipped her head back as he kneaded a nipple.

"You didn't even touch me last time," she said as she reached for him.

"I assure you, I touched you."

She chuckled. "I mean, you had your gloves on."

"For most people... it's protection," he said, his head going to her nipple and taking it into his mouth.

"I like to feel your heat." She pushed her own hands against his warm chest. "And those hands on me."

Graves stripped out of his shirt to reveal the muscled chest she had marveled at. The full tattoo on display. Now she dragged her nails across the inky lines of holly vines, down across the thorns piercing his skin, and around the leaves that trailed lower into his pants.

"Your tattoo is so vivid," she mused. "Can I lick every inch of it?"

He groaned, pressing himself against her. "You can do whatever you want with me," he promised.

Then he claimed her mouth again. He wasn't the only one learning, and oh, how she liked his reaction to that. The way he forced himself hard against her, the feel of his erection bulging against his pants.

Carefully, she drew her hand down the front of his pants, cupping him in her grasp. He jerked against her hand. More. She released his mouth and began to kiss her way down his perfect chest, over every intricate detail of his tattoo, noticing the spattering of scars along the way.

She came to her knees before him and then looked up at him from under her lashes. "And if I want this?"

"And I thought I was supposed to learn your body," he said through gritted teeth.

"Plenty of time for that later."

His breathing was ragged as she undid his pants and drew them over his narrow hips. His boxer briefs followed, revealing the full length of him before her. She had barely gotten to touch him the last time. Just a firm grip on him before he'd thrust into her.

Now, she wanted all of him. She grasped his cock in her hand, slowly stroking him up and down. Then she fit her mouth around the head of him.

He moaned deep in the back of his throat. She pushed forward, taking in the length of him. When she drew back again, his hips flexed as if he wanted to thrust into her again. She rolled her tongue over the tip teasingly before taking him in again, lingering longer at the base.

His hands slid into her hair. He wasn't exactly gentle, but he wasn't hurting her, either. With the grace of a predator, he began to direct her against him.

Anyone else who would have dared try, she would have walked away so fast. She'd always enjoyed women over men for this. It felt so much less expected. So much less... dominating. Or at least that had always been her personal preference.

But with Graves, it just felt right. It was how it should be. She was not nor had she ever been a submissive woman. This didn't feel that way. It was like he was giving her pleasure as much as taking his own.

She was full of him, full to bursting. Him hot in her mouth, and she was the one prime to climax.

Somehow, he still got bigger. Big enough she almost gagged on him. Then, in one slow pull, he removed himself from her mouth. She instantly felt bereft. She looked up at him through tearstained lashes, on her knees before him.

"Graves?" she whispered.

"Seeing you like this, Wren... I have to have you."

She shivered. "Yes."

He lifted her to her feet, and she slid out of her jeans and useless panties. Then she crawled backward on the bed, spreading herself before him. She watched his naked body from between her legs. All he did was stand there like a Greek god—no, a Celtic god—and she was panting for him.

She bit her lip and beckoned him forward. "I need you."

He settled between her legs, his cock jutting toward her waiting pussy. All she wanted to do was shift and have him inside her once more. Then their eyes snapped together as if drawn by a magnet. And in that gaze, she saw that she was precious to him. Something new in a world that had always been the same.

"You'll stay, Wren?" he asked.

She nodded, the nickname sliding pleasantly over her. "Yes. I'm staying."

He pressed his lips to hers, almost gentle, before thrusting inside of her. She arched her back. Her eyes shut, her gasp audible. This was what she wanted. The way they seemed to fit just right, as if one had been waiting for the other and it was finally how it always should have been.

"Eyes on me," Graves commanded. "Show me what's hidden."

She slowly opened her eyes and blinked up at him. He couldn't read her. He couldn't use his magic on her, and for once, he had no idea what she wanted from him. So she kept her eyes on him as he began to move in and out of her, a steady, easy rhythm. She wanted more. Harder. Faster. And yet, she'd never really had this before. This feeling between them that made sex so erotic.

"What's hidden?"

"Everything," he said. His thumb ran across her bottom lip. She opened for him, flicking her tongue against the pad of his finger. "And now, I can see you."

She gasped as he pushed into her harder, their gazes never breaking as she met his thrusts with her own. Their fires mingled, the heat blooming in the room like a furnace. It centered in her core, and as they crashed together one last time, she felt it erupt. They climaxed together with such intensity that it felt as if a wave of energy had just been released from their bodies.

Graves fell forward over her, pressing his forehead against her own. "My wren."

"Mmm," she hummed breathlessly.

His lips found hers again. Just a light brush. "I'll be right back."

Then he was gone, sliding out of her and striding toward the bathroom.

She lay there, staring up at the ceiling in wonder. So, this was what she had been missing. Sex wasn't just sex. With Graves, it was so much more.

Water gurgled in the other room, and Graves reappeared, hauling her off of the bed. She nearly crumpled as her legs tried to give out under her. He laughed under his breath and then threw her easily over his shoulder. She protested, but he was already moving as if she was as light as a feather.

The bathroom was nearly as large as the bedroom, with a sunken tub that could have doubled as a small pool and a heated jacuzzi next to it. Graves dropped her lightly to her feet on the edge before stepping into the jacuzzi, beckoning her forward.

"I could have walked," she teased.

"And miss the chance to carry you?" He tsked. "Never."

She grinned as she stepped inside the bubbling water, then nearly groaned at the warmth.

Before she had a chance to take a seat, Graves drew her against his naked body. She settled onto his lap, curling into him. His warm arms wrapped around her, and she closed her eyes, sighing happily.

"I'm glad you came back," he said softly into her hair as he ran his wet fingers through the strands.

"Me too." She trailed her hand up and down his bicep. "I have a question."

"Yes?"

"What year did King Henry VII die?"

Graves rumbled a laugh. "1509."

Kierse startled. "Oh."

"Are you doing the math on my age?" he asked. "Warlocks are especially long-lived."

She looked into his eyes. "Over five hundred years."

"And still learning to trust," he said, sweeping a hand down her face and tilting her head up so their lips nearly met. "But I trust you."

"Good. Then kiss me again."

And he did, running his tongue along her plump bottom lip as all thought fled her mind.