Page 222 of Lupines Bloom Where Blood Falls

And I’m very alone.

I’m about to set my phone down when Ezra’s name lights up my screen.

My heart lurches like that horny, sexist cartoon wolf with bugged-out eyes.

Great. Now I have cartoon emotions to go along with my severe trauma.

His home is mine. The thought settles deep—and okay, maybe it makes my stomach flip like sugar-coated vertigo.

Too much, too soon? Maybe. But I like it.

Also, Ezra signing his name, as if I might forget which ancient shadow god is currently slipping into my DMs, is so on brand.

It won’t hurt to send him a quick reply, even if he can’t respond.

I shake my head, grinning as I toss my phone onto the pillow. Of course he forgot. That’s so Ezra—divine in the streets, depraved in the sheets, and a total disaster with modern tech.

My phone dings the minute it hits the pillow.

Jesus Christ. I’m already smiling like a lovesick idiot.

Goddamn him and his filthy words. Heat sparks low in my belly, throbbing between my legs like a bruise begging to be touched.

I would beg on my knees if he asked me. My fingers trail down my stomach and under the edge of my underwear, finding my clit with a soft press and drawing circles that make my thighs tremble.

I slide two fingers into my pussy, curling them with each thrust while my thumb keeps its rhythm. My breathing picks up, and I moan when I remember the way his hands felt on my body.

Fuck.

My back arches off the bed, lights bursting behind my eyes as heat floods my veins. I gasp his name, lost in the violent, breathless wave that crashes through every inch of me.

Lying back on the bed, I clutch the phone to my chest, smiling until my cheeks ache. Ezra does things to me I can’t explain, and I’m becoming addicted.

The tremor in my breath lingers as I plug in my phone, swallow some ibuprofen, and sink into the pillows.

Sleep drags me under, and I dream of my dark, devoted Grim whispering filth I can still feel between my thighs.

Aurora