Would she make those same captivating, breathless sounds in her sleep that she did at that inn?
I bet she would. I want to make her come in her sleep. With her dream state in my grasp, I could harness her subconscious sexual desires and drive her to such pleasure that she would drench my face over and over. Then I would slide the tip of my cock through all that beautiful wetness and?—
"Crypt?"
I look away, internally cursing my painfully hard cock for taking all my blood and leaving me lightheaded with need. She's tired. She needs rest. I must make sure she gets to sleep quickly, and I won't push her when she isn't ready for all the furtive ways I desperately want to worship her.
"You have no water in here," I say, my voice barely a rasp. "I'll bring you some."
She looks confused but doesn't protest my sudden offer as I quickly leave the room to force myself to calm down. I get a cup of water from the kitchen, but when I turn back toward the hall and pass the TV room, I spot Decimus. He's sitting on the far end of the couch where Crane is sleeping. Decimus’s head is hanging, but when he looks up at me, I pause.
One thing is clear. He overheard our conversation about Omar Crane.
Damn. I hadn't stopped to think about his shifter hearing.
He opens his mouth, looking as if he wants to say something, but then clears his throat and looks back down.
Good. Anything the dragon has to say about it, I don't care to hear. I was going to kill Omar for his past crimes, anyway. Knowing that he was after Decimus was the last straw, but the last fucking thing I need is for these wankstains to think I'm their friend.
Without a word, I leave him and return to Maven's room. Shutting the door softly, I set the water on the bedside table for her. The lamp is off, but darkness doesn't limit my eyesight, so I can still easily make out the way she yawns and curls in on herself slightly under the blanket.
"Thanks for the water," she murmurs sleepily.
Thank you for existing, my love.
I lay on the bed beside her, careful not to touch her. I try to ignore my pounding heart. I'm nearly breathless with anticipation at the thought of consuming her dreams until morning. Yet I can already tell my cock will be leaking all night. I enjoy edging, but there's a fine line between teasing and torture.
"Darling?" I whisper softly.
"Mm?"
"I have a proposal for you."
I explain my idea for slowly helping her overcome her fear of touch through her subconscious while she's dreaming. By the time I'm done speaking, she's turned to face me, a thoughtful expression on her tired face.
"Let's do it. I suggested exposure therapy with the others as a remedy, and I'll continue that. But your method might work."
"You won't mind my being in your subconscious all night?"
"Anything to help me not be so fucking pathetic about touch."
"Don't call yourself pathetic in my presence," I warn her. "You're a masterpiece."
She closes her eyes. "That's what the chief necromancer used to call me. His masterpiece."
He probably considered her an object to perfect instead of a person. I glare at the ceiling. "I'd like to kill him."
"Me too."
Maven drifts into sleep a moment later, and Limbo clouds with her subconscious. I slip into Limbo to taste her dream and instantly find that I was right.
I'll be addicted to her until the day I die.
24
EVERETT
I watchthe winter dawn rise outside my office window, the falling flurries of snow swirling over the fields surrounding Everbound Castle. It should be peaceful, but all I can think about is whether Maven is lying lifeless on the cold ground somewhere out there.
