Maven considers that. “What would it mean for me to be your muse?”
Everything.
To me, at least.
“We would share dreams while asleep and sense one another more keenly,” I murmur, brushing my fingertips through the dark hair framing her face. “I would be incapable of feeding on anyone’s dreams except yours, but that is already my preference. And…my psyche would be open to you, just as yours is open to me in Limbo. It’s said to be an extremely vulnerable, intimate connection unlike any other.”
Precisely what I crave when it comes to Maven.
She studies me thoughtfully before winding her arms around my neck. The press of her lithe body against mine sends excitement coursing through me as her lips brush over my jaw.
“How many muses can an incubus take?”
“One.” For eternity.
Again, precisely what I’m craving with her.
She pulls back slightly to examine me. “And if your muse dies?”
Dark anger flickers inside my chest. I give her my most warning look. “You won’t.”
“I expire all the time.”
Is that all she means? It had better be. “That’s not a true death.”
“But if it were?”
I sigh, ready to move on quickly from even the notion of losing her. “Incubi die when their chosen muse does. It doesn’t go both ways, so if Crane, Frost, or Decimus ever tried to do me in, you’d be perfectly safe.”
Maven snorts. “That won’t happen. You’re all softies for each other.”
What a horribly disturbing sentence that was. Decimus is all right, but I’ll need to rough those other wankstains up more often if she thinks we’ve gotten so chummy.
Then her expression falls, and she peers up at me. “Would me becoming your muse help your curse in any way?”
It’s a beautiful kind of agony, knowing that she also hurts over the idea of losing me. I wish I could reassure her and promise a lifetime of this sordid obsession, but all I can do is shake my head, kiss her temple, and let go of the topic that is causing my keeper pain.
“What’s your answer?” I whisper, my hands skimming over her sides. I curl my fingers in the sides of her panties, grinning when it makes her shiver.
Maven’s gaze is trained on my mouth now. “My answer?”
“Will you be my muse, darling?”
When she meets my eyes, there is a depth and emotion I can’t decipher.
“You’re mine, you know,” she whispers. “Bound or not, your muse or not, whether I get you for years or only days…you are fuckingmine.If I ever speak to the assholes in Paradise again,I’ll have to thank them for finding other souls just as twisted as mine. Your broken edges match mine perfectly.”
24
CRYPT
My heart racesat Maven’s words. I press my forehead to hers, pulling her tighter to me.
“You still haven’t answered my question, love.”
“If we survive the next few days, I’ll give you an answer,” she promises, pressing her lips against mine.
That’s all it takes before we’re kissing frantically. Her tongue slides along my lower lip, teasing as my fingers tangle and twist in all her glorious hair, tipping her head so that I can deepen our exchange.
