Despite his unease, he yearned to kiss her quiet. “I want to be on top of you.”
She shimmied around him, holding on to the chain with the crook of a finger. “All you have to do is whisper promises in my ear.”
She made no secret she wanted more from Rune—talking about love and commitments—but he suspected this was merely the infatuation of a very young female. “I’ll have you eventually. I know you crave sex with me.”
“I crave a lot of things I don’t get. Them’s the breaks.”
“It’s not possible for me to be exclusive.”
“Possible?” She snorted. “Because you’re such a lady-killer? Because your big swinging dick says, ‘Baby, I gotta be free’?”
“Maybe it’s not that I would desire other women. As a secrets master, I use sex to get information. That’s my job—but you’d expect me to quit it right at the Accession?” What in the gods’ names would it take for someone to accept him as is?
She nodded with understanding. “One day you’ll find a nice female who’ll put up with your ‘job’. Listen to my words, Rune: I am not that woman. If you stepped out on me, I’d kick your ass to the curb.”
“You think I couldn’t seduce you to see things my way?”
“Never. Your best bet is to forget all this”—she gestured at her body—“and find that dark fey you had a lead on.”
He frowned at the reminder. During the two days he’d held vigil over Josephine, he could’ve returned to Loa’s, enjoying the shopkeeper and getting that lead. In the past, he would’ve hounded Loa.
Now, he had difficulty picturing himself with any female other than Josephine. “Perhaps I could be persuaded to try an open relationship with you—a long-term commitment that allows us to stray, but always to return to the bed we share.”
“That’s your idea of a commitment? Maybe we call it something different where I come from.” The little wench winked at him. “In any case, why would I settle for less than I need when I’m only twenty-five?”
“Because you aren’t fixed in your ways.”
“Says who? I want promises that my guy’ll be in one bed: mine.”
“No doubt a vow to the Lore? You’re power-mad for those vows. What if we committed, and you realized your feelings for me were just an infatuation? A schoolgirl crush? We’ve known each other for such a short time.”
Instead of reassuring him she felt more, Josephine said, “I bet I could get Desh to make me a pledge.”
Rune’s eyes narrowed. “By the way, a male demon’s horns are considered sexual organs. Your asking to touch them was as good as offering a hand job. You probably didn’t know that, since you’re mentally the equivalent of a human. I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt.”
“You’re right. I didn’t know that.” She tapped a black claw to her chin. “But I will the next time I ask him.”
Rune clenched his jaw. She could proposition Deshazior—doing anything she pleased with the demon—and Rune couldn’t say a word about it.
Whatever she read in his expression made hers light up. “My old man’s jealous of Desh! I’ll bring you around.”
“Or maybe I’m furious that a fledgling storm demon disrespected me. He was only a twinkle in his sire’s eyes when I was six thousand years old!”
In a singsong tone, she said, “Jea-hel-lous.” She floated higher to nip the tip of his sensitive ear!
He didn’t know if that made him want to fuck her, spank her, or hug her. “Perhaps I’ll run into some Orea up here, nymphs who live on high mountaintops. Then we’ll see who’s jealous.”
She alighted on the plank again. “And what would you do with them? Bone them? When you’re so scared?”
“I’m not scared. I’m just not overjoyed.”
“My man is old and jealous and scared too.” The sun hit her dazzling smile.
Gods, she was stunning. “I’d simply rather be somewhere else. Now, shut up, child.”
“So it wouldn’t bother you if I did this?” She jumped up and down, bouncing the plank. “Will the Orea come and save their favorite stud?”
“You’ll pay for this when we get to solid ground.”
“What if I did this?” She inched closer to him. Closer. She didn’t stop when she reached him, just proceeded—into his body.
“Josephine, no.” Chills skittered up his spine. Yet at the same time, having her inside him was curiously . . . erotic.
They began to dematerialize. “What are you doing?” Dread overwhelmed him when his fingers passed through the chain.
She stepped off the fucking ledge; they hovered in the air.
He peered straight down at the drop. His lungs seized, his heart about to explode. Trace away! Would she move with him? Or would he throw her off? What if she lost control and fell? Mind in chaos, he yelled, “Enough!”
She floated him back to the plank, then disentangled herself. Once she’d solidified beside him, his phobia kicked in with a vengeance, applying to her as well. “Stay on this godsdamned plank.” He shoved her between him and the mountain—leaving room only for his toes to remain on the board.
“What’d you do that for? You’re hanging off the edge now.”
He bit out, “I don’t know. You need to be kept close. But not bloody inside me.” In this position, he could see straight down her shirt to her pale cleavage. Just to distract him, a bead of perspiration trickled past her necklace, down between those alabaster mounds. When he focused on that view, he found this situation wasn’t as troubling. In fact, he was hard. He wanted to lick the sweat from every inch of her skin.