I hear him moving closer, his steps heavy on the wooden floor, but I don't open my eyes. Not even when I feel the heat of his body against my back.
"Tell me," he rasps.
The combination of his voice and the heady mix of spices on my lips scrambles my senses. He makes me feel like my opinion matters. Struggling to find words to describe the unique combination of fig and almond, I hesitate, but it comes to me in a flash. Only the word that pops into my head is one I've never used before. It has nothing to do with the whiskey and everything to do with him.
"Magnificent."
Draven presses his lips to mine. Heat radiates around my body, pulsing inside and out, enveloping me. My stomach quivers. Stunned, my eyelids pop open, but I am alone in the room, with only a mirror and a bottle of Glenfiddich 1937 Rare Scotch for company.
Chapter Three
Draven
IfollowDahliadownthe hallway, sticking to the shadows. She's a hard woman to keep up with, though that doesn't surprise me much. She has a boundless sort of energy for one so cool and composed. I find it fascinating.
Seeing her the other night was like staring into the face of forever. Copper curls tried to escape her demure, no-nonsense braid. Her pretty blue eyes remind me of the darkest depths of the lake at night. They're bottomless, beautiful pools capable of drowning a man in their depths. Thanks to the rest of her, I haven't had a moment of sleep all week. As soon as I close my eyes, I envision that curvy body, and I'm wide awake again.
It's been a long time since I've met any women, but none of them looked like her that I remember. They didn't make my blood heat in my veins, either. The last time I ventured into town on my own, I was a teenager. But that's beside the point. Dahlia is different. I feel that truth rattling like a battle cry in my bones.
The moment my lips touched hers, I felt her in my soul. I don't know what prompted me to kiss her, yet I couldn't resist tasting the whiskey on her lips.
I've been following her like a lost dog ever since, unable to stay away…too nervous about getting too close. Seeing me by candlelight is one thing. But I'm not convinced she won't flee if she sees me in the light of day. And then I'll have to chase her down. Convincing her to stay here forever will be somewhat tricky if she's pissed at me for locking her up, now won't it?
"Shit," I growl, coming to a dead stop when I realize I can no longer hear her muttering to herself from down the hallway. I stand still for a moment, listening intently to try to pinpoint where she's gone in our freakshow of a mansion, but all I hear is the infernal ticking of the clock above my head.
Ma and her clocks. As if the passage of time means anything in Screaming Woods.
I huff a curse and slip through the shadows, seeking out my beauty. She can't hide from me. My cock throbs at the thought of her trying. I'll chase her if she wants to play. But when I find her, I get to keep her.
A thousand dirty fantasies roll through my head in a parade of hedonistic gluttony. They all end the same way. With her naked below me, crying out in bliss as I drive into her again and again.Yes, run from me, little kitten. Let me chase you.
"You're following me."
"Jesus Christ," I growl, rearing back as her melodic voice sounds right in front of me.
"Oh, sorry." The smile in her voice tells me she's not very sorry for scaring the living shit out of me. The little minx. "I didn't mean to frighten you. Much."
"Monsters can still have heart attacks," I mutter.
Her laughter sounds like music to my ears.
Why isn't she fleeing in terror?
"You aren't very sneaky, Draven. Besides, you shouldn't call yourself that." Her disapproval comes through loud and clear. So does her scent. Goddamn. I want to pull her into my arms and scent out the source of that smell.
"Seven-foot tall, horns, blue hair, a tail, a huge…never mind," I say, ticking off each monstrous feature. "I'm pretty sure I check all the boxes, Beauty. Don't tell me you didn't notice in the library."
She snorts, and then her shadow drifts closer. "I noticed. I thought perhaps I dreamed them. But I suppose I didn't, did I?" She hesitates. "The horns suit you," she murmurs. "As for the hair…well, blue is all the rage these days, haven't you heard? You'd fit right in with the cool kids."
"I doubt the cool kids have a tail. You aren't afraid of me."
"No, but furries do. Should I be?"
"Furries?" I groan, shaking my head. "You mean the people who dress up in animal costumes to fuck?"
"Well…erm, I guess that is what I mean."
Fuck, I wish I could see her blush.