Midnight Marked (Chicagoland Vampires 12) - Page 117

“By putting my family in danger?”

t 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.

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