I groaned, fitting her tight against me. Impossible warmth and softness. I crushed my mouth to hers, wanting to absorb every inch of her. Her scent wrapped around me, lavender and lovely. I drew my mouth from hers, running it down her damp neck.
She still tasted slightly of sweat, the faintest tang of salt. I lapped at it, my fangs growing longer at the scent of her blood beneath her skin. The beast inside me roared, wanted to bite. To drink.
I shuddered and drew back. She whimpered her disappointment.
“Too dangerous,” I murmured, moving my mouth lower, to her breasts.
Her disappointment turned to pleasure as I swept my tongue over the soft skin of her chest. She clutched my head tightly, holding me to her as she moved her hips, seeking my hardness with her softness.
“Please, Grey. I don’t want to wait anymore.” The desperation in her voice made my heart race.
I didn’t want to, either. Couldn’t.
I reached between us, finding the softness there, wanting to know she was ready.
“Now.” She clutched at my shoulders.
I fitted myself to her flesh, moving slowly as I sank into her. Every inch was heaven. She surrounded me—her body, her scent, her moans, her magic. I lost myself in her, wanting to live inside this moment forever.
Finally, she tightened around me, crying out against my ear. Her pleasure dragged me over the edge.
13
Carrow
I woke full of hope. Maybe it had been last night—amazing—or maybe it was the fact that we’d time traveled, thus proving that anything was possible.
But the way I figured it, if we could walk through time and visit the past, then anything could happen. And today, we were going to break the curse on Grey and me.
I wanted to wake up with him every morning that I could, and I refused to settle for the scraps that fate wanted to give me. I was going to force our life together to be what I wanted.
By the time we’d woken and dressed, we were nearly late. Grey checked on the body of his former self while I pulled on my boots and cloak. Once again, the morning looked dreary, as if the entire seventeenth century were miserable.
Grey returned from the second bedroom, looking handsome as ever, even in his strange old clothing. It was a style that had always appeared a bit funny in old paintings, but on him, it looked good.
“He’s fine,” Grey said. “Let’s go. We don’t want to be late.”
I fini
shed fastening my cloak. “How’s the coffee in this century?”
“Not what you’re used to.”
“No frappes?” I teased.
“Certainly not. Though the pastries are not terrible.”
At the thought of them, my stomach growled. We’d both worked up an appetite last night.
Together, we left his flat, making our way quickly through the magic-lit hallways. When we reached the front foyer where Miranda usually stood, I was almost surprised not to see her there.
Instead, it was Clarence. Grey stopped by briefly. “No cleaning today, Clarence. My rooms are to remain undisturbed.”
“Very good, my lord.” Clarence nodded. “You’ve a meeting with Madam Stockhausen this evening.”
Grey frowned, and I could tell that he was trying to remember what it was about. Finally, he said, “Please reschedule until the day after tomorrow.”
Clarence nodded. “Of course. And one more thing. Councilor Rasla came by to ask for you. And about your guest.”