He made a low, hungry sound in his throat and kissed her again, slower this time, more deliberate. Her knees went weak, and he steadied her, guiding her back against the stone rail. “Lean here,” he murmured. “Are you comfortable?”
She nodded, goosebumps rising on her arms as his hands slid to her waist, fingers curving around her hips. He lowered himself slowly to his knees before her, his horns casting sharp shadows behind him.
What was he doing? This wasn’t anything like what she’d seen the cows and goats do, nor what the other women in Maiden Hall described. Maybe gargoyles did things differently.
Her breath hitched, nerves flaring. The street below suddenly felt far too close, the distant flicker of streetlamps and the faint sounds of footsteps on the cobbles making her stomach tighten with unease. She glanced upward and froze. Moths. Three of them circled the lantern, their wings catching the light.
“The moths,” she whispered urgently. “What if they see us? What if they tell?”
Brandt’s gaze followed hers, then flicked to the solitary lantern that illuminated the roost. Without a word, he reached for it, extinguishing the candle flame with his fingers. Shadows swallowed them.
He turned back to her, eyes glowing faintly in the dim. “They won’t see anything now,” he said, voice low and steady. “You’re safe with me.”
The darkness pressed in, intimate and thrilling. Her breath caught as he lifted the hem of her skirt and lifted it, along with her petticoat. She clutched the stone rail to keep herself upright, her whole body quivering as his hand ran up the inside of her leg, pausing between her knees. With a gentle twist of his hand, he coaxed them apart.
“You’re beautiful,” he murmured, eyes fixed between her thighs. “So soft and warm.”
Her breath stuttered. She’d never been looked at like that by anyone. Headmiredher.
He bent his head to kiss the inside of her knee, then higher, teasing a path upward. Her breath came faster the nearer he came to the place where she nowachedwith need. Why was he moving so slowly? She spread her legs further without thinking.
“Good little rabbit,” he murmured, sounding amused. “Now guide me. Use my horns and show me where it feels best.”
She reached for him with shaking hands, her fingers wrapping around the ridged bases of his horns. He grunted as if the touch pleased him. Then his mouth delved into her folds, hot and skilled, and she gasped, tightening her grip.
Pleasure sparked, sharp and bright. He worked her methodically with tongue and lips, building the heat until her hips rocked against his face instinctively.
He growled again, the vibration raising the tiny hairs all over her body. Her fingers clenched, automatically adjusting his horns until his mouth was in the perfect spot.
Her climax hit her like lightning in one searing burst, leaving her gasping with the effort of keeping quiet. Brandt held her firm, kissing her clit through it, every press of his mouth an echo of her orgasm that made her twitch with pleasure.
When she could breathe again, he pried her fingers from his horns and stood, towering over her, chin glistening. He cupped her face, kissed her gently with salty lips. She could taste herself on him, a pleasant shock. She wondered if he liked it, too? He couldn’t have enjoyed it as much as she did.
“Was that…good for you?” she asked.
“You have no idea,” he murmured, brushing his lips over hers reverently, again and again. “I will never forget this as long as I live.”
He said it like this was over. Like they were done.
She looped her arms around his neck so he couldn’t fly away. She didn’t care that she was horribly late to Betje’s. She didn’t care if Brandt ruined her for anyone else. All she knew was that she wanted more. “Can we go to your nest now?”
In answer, he swept her into his arms and carried her inside.
Chapter 11
Brandt
Her scent clung to him, the milky sweetness he’d already memorized. Her head rested on his shoulder. The door to his nesting chamber thudded shut behind them, insulating them from the busy streets outside.
In the private hush of his stone chamber, he didn’t want to put her down. It didn’t feel real, this heady satisfaction of earning her trust. Part of him was afraid it would all come to a crashing halt once he let go of her, like releasing a wild animal only to see it scamper away.
He crouched, tumbling them both into the deep, fur-lined depression in the center of the room. Idabel landed on top of him, giggling. It lightened his heart to hear her laugh. She had too many cares for a young female. He wished he could take them all away.
He tensed, wondering what she’d do once he was gone with the Sixth Watch. He would need to make provisions for her until he returned.
“Do you sleep here?” she asked, idly playing with a lock of his hair as she looked around the nest chamber.
He huffed a laugh. “I roost outside. The view is better.”
