Not that most houses in New Orleans have basements either. My family estate was kind of a special case. Then again, we still don’t know for sure if NOLA is even where we are. Too many questions and not enough answers.
I glance down at his flaccid, but still impressive, cock. Sucking it was like climbing the tallest mountain, but I was up for it. Too bad I couldn’t finish.
“We should get some sleep,” Atlas says.
“I can try. I don’t know how I’ll relax enough.”
“Maybe I can help.” He smiles, brushing his thumb under my chin.
It’s strange how his skin manages to be hard and soft at the same time. He moves his large hands back to my shoulders, gently massaging the kinks out until I feel the tension slip away. I lean against his chest as my eyes grow heavy, my chaotic mind settling into blissful nothingness.
How this man manages to soothe me is a mystery for the ages, but I can’t be bothered to think about it anymore, as sleep drags me under.
FIFTEEN
ATLAS
I sleep on and off, dreaming of the feeling of Rune’s mouth on me when I manage to find a few minutes of peaceful unconsciousness and chasing a thousand racing thoughts every time I wake up again. Was that vision Rune managed to conjure briefly enough to give them a lead? Why did Rune seem so startled by the description of the house? Does he know it? Am I doing enough to protect him? Are we ever going to get out of here? And on and on…
At least Rune slumbering on top of me gives me something nice to look at while I brood. I gently card my fingers through his tangled hair, doing my best to work out the knots without waking him. As much as I want us to find a way out of here, part of me is dreading it. Will I ever see him again after this? One thing I know about Rune: he’s nearly impossible to find if he doesn’t want to be found. ThatRunefeeling in the center of my chest flutters and pulses like a heartbeat all its own, and I let his steady breathing pull me under for another brief nap.
The next time I wake up, it’s just in time for me to hide while Elvira drops off breakfast.
“Thanks, love, the room service here is impeccable,” he shouts after her sarcastically, sitting on the edge of the bed and running his fingers through his hair. Rune frowns. “Maybe some of my magic is still lingering after last night if I somehow managed to smooth out this rats’ nest on my head while I slept,” he murmurs as I drop my camouflage.
I just grunt. I’m not about to admit that I was awake half the night running my fingers through his hair.
The cot protests noisily as he stands up. He shuffles over to pick up the plate Elvira left, and scoffs as he bends down.
“Fresh beignets,” he mutters. “We’re definitely in NOLA or somewhere nearby. And whoever that robed asshole holding us hostage is, they’re taunting me again. Beignets are another favorite of mine. How could they know that? There are plenty of people with a grudge against me, but I’ve never sat down with any of them and told them all about my childhood.”
“Is it possible that they’re guessing at some of it? It’s not exactly a secret that you grew up in New Orleans. We found that out easily when we were looking into you. And someone born and raised here liking gumbo and beignets isn’t much of a stretch.”
He waffles his head back and forth, considering what I’m saying as he carries the plate over to the bed.
“The t-shirt though,” he reminds me.
“Oh, right. That’s the big one.”
He holds one of the beignets out to me, but I shake my head. He needs food more than I do. I have tons of time before it becomes an issue, even if my stomachisgrowling at the sugary smell of the food. Rune rolls his eyes and stuffs the beignet into my mouth roughly. I try not to moan at the taste or the delightful feeling of the fried dough melting on my tongue. Bits of sugarrain into my beard, and he looks extremely satisfied with himself as he picks another one up off the plate and takes a bite of it himself.
“Has anyone ever told you how pushy you are?” I grumble once I swallow.
“Has anyone ever told you how stubbornyouare?” He arches an eyebrow at me.
“I keep telling you, I don’t need to eat that often. I’ll be fine.”
“And I keep tellingyouthat you’ll be useless to me if you’re weak with hunger or you turn to stone.”
I cock my head and study him for a second while he eats his food. “Is that all it is? You’re worried about my usefulness?”
I don’t know what I want him to say. Maybe that he’s feeling something a little bit like I am. I would settle for a feeling of appreciation or a simple, passing affection based solely on the fact that he doesn’t have to be trapped in here all alone.
“Life has taught me that it’s better to be practical than sentimental, gargoyle. If that’s not a lesson you’ve had to learn… well, I envy you.”
I grunt again, and I notice a little flutter in the center of my chest that feels a little bit like sorrow. Is it sorrowforRune? Or am I somehow feeling what he is? Maybe it’s another effect of sharing his magic?
Silence falls for a few minutes while I let him finish his food. When the beignets are gone, he gives me a wicked smile, like that conversation before never happened, and holds eye contact as he licks every last bit of the powdered sugar from his fingers. My cock throbs and a rumble of want tightens my throat.
