Chapter 5
Bram
The world stuttered.
For a heartbeat, there was nothing… no soup, no clock, no glass wall spilling moonlight across her jungle of herbs. Only her voice, ringing in my skull like a bell I'd never been allowed to answer before.
What if I were seducing you?
Every careful wall I'd built crumbled to dust.
When sound came back, I was still standing in her kitchen. She was still across from me, knife in hand, freckles sharp against flushed skin, breathing fast. Waiting.
I crossed the space between us before I could think better of it.
Her wineglass wobbled when I slid it carefully out of the way. The plate of cheese clattered softly against the butcher block. I planted my hands on either side of her hips, caged her in, and lifted her like she weighed nothing. I set her on the island like an offering.
She gasped, legs parting instinctively to balance, her knife abandoned. I pressed her gently back against the wood, the cropped sweatshirt riding up to bare the pale curve of her stomach.
Freckles everywhere. A constellation of trust painted on skin.
My hand slid beneath the fabric, cool palm against her overheated skin. She shivered, from the temperature contrast or the touch itself, I couldn't tell. The sound she made, half laugh, half whimper, nearly made me lose myself.
I bent low, teeth grazing her belly. Testing. A nip, then another. Not to hurt. To mark. To ask.
Her fingers dug into my shoulders, but she didn’t push me away.
Good. She understood.
Instinct surged, wolfish, undeniable. The belly was the place of vulnerability. The place a hound exposed when it chose trust. And here she was, letting me taste hers.
My tongue swept over her skin, chasing freckles. My teeth scraped, gentle and reverent, a promise as old as my bones: I will not break you. I will guard you.
Her laughter broke, turned breathless. “Bram…”
I lifted my head. Her eyes were wide, pupils blown, freckles dark against flushed skin. Her breath hitched like she couldn’t decide whether to laugh again or beg.
“I shouldn’t,” I said, though my hand stayed under her shirt, splayed wide across her warm belly.
Her legs tightened around me and her hips shifted against the butcher block, pulling me closer.
I kissed her stomach again, sharper this time, dragging teeth over skin until she gasped and arched into me. The sound went straight through me, shattering whatever restraint I'd been clinging to.
I pushed her shirt higher, my mouth finding the soft underside of her breasts. The tender skin between. The curve beneath. And then, finally, those dusky pink nipples that had been taunting me through the fabric of her shirt.
Her hands found my horns. She hesitated—one heartbeat, two—and then gripped them like she’d been meant to all along, pulling me up to her mouth.
The kiss was clumsy at first, wine and want and heat. Then it found a rhythm, her tongue brushing mine, the taste of her sharp as salt air.
My instincts howled. To take. To pin. To keep.
I broke the kiss only long enough to growl against her lips, “If you want me to stop, tell me now.”
She answered by tugging her sweatshirt over her head.
The world narrowed to heat and hands and the sound of fabric giving way. My mouth traced freckles up her ribs, her laugh tumbling into a moan when my teeth scraped just below her breast.
Trust. Vulnerability. The belly, the throat, the way she leaned back on her elbows and let me have her skin.
Not fear. Not hesitation. Just fire.
And I burned with it.
“I—” She laughed, breathless. “God, this is embarrassing.”
I stilled, every instinct braced. “What?”
Her blue eyes flicked away, then back. Bold, even with the blush climbing her throat. “I might’ve… looked something up. In the bathroom.”
“Looked up?”
“Barghests.” The word tumbled out, quick and guilty. “Porn, specifically.”
The heat that ripped through me had nothing to do with wine. "You were watching Barghest porn in the bathroom?" My tail twitched, betraying me before I could hide it.
She noticed. Of course she did. Her grin went wicked. “So… are the videos right?” Her gaze slid down, shameless. “Does the tail actually—”
I didn’t let her finish.
The tip of it slid inside her pants, along her calf, velvet over bare skin, curling around the back of her knee before tightening just enough to make her gasp. Her thighs parted without thought, welcoming the press of me between them.
Her gasp still rang in my ears when I dragged my teeth up her belly again. My tail curled tighter around her thigh, velvet-soft and possessive, stroking the sensitive skin.
She shivered, laughing nervously. “So the internet wasn’t lying.”
I lifted my head, eyes locking on hers. “What else did you see?”
Her flush deepened, freckles vanishing under red. “What do you mean?”
“You said you watched Barghest porn.” My voice came out rougher than I meant, like gravel. “What else did you see?”
Her throat bobbed as she swallowed. “Um. That you’ve got… different equipment.”
I leaned in, my mouth brushing the corner of her jaw. “Different how?”
Her breath hitched. “Tapered. Long. With those—” She waved a hand toward my lap, too flustered to finish. “Nodes. At the base.”
I huffed against her skin, half-growl, half-laugh. “Knots,” I corrected, low and steady. My tail inched higher, teasing just beneath the hem of her yoga pants. “You should know before you decide.”
Her whole body trembled, but she didn’t pull back. She tilted her chin instead, daring me. “And if I’ve already decided?”
Every instinct I had snapped taut. The hunger. The restraint. The urge to claim.
I nipped her throat, careful but possessive, and felt her pulse jump against my teeth. "Then I'll make sure you know exactly what you're agreeing to."
Her answer was to arch into me, hands fisting in my hair, pulling me closer.
"Show me."