For some reason Nightshade found his comment immensely funny and burst out laughing, even as the room seemed to tilt and twirl around her. “Not possible.”
Merc shook his head and swept her up into his arms, heading to the staircase. “I'm carrying you anyway. Don't even try and stop me.”
Nightshade snuggled in the crook of his shoulder, inhaling his deep masculine scent. “I think I could stay here forever,” she said and burrowed closer. Unable to resist, she nipped his neck, savoring the salty and sweet taste of his skin.
Merc growled, the deep rumble vibrating from his chest through her body. “You're poking the bear.”
Nightshade nipped him again, but followed it up with a lick and a kiss, fascinated by the texture of his skin. She'd never felt such soft skin over steel hard muscles before. “I prefer to call it yanking the tiger’s tail.”
He nudged her bedroom door open, laid her on the bed and pulled off her shoes. “Count yourself lucky. This tiger doesn’t bite tipsy females.”
Merc lifted her again, pulled the covers back, and tucked her in.
She frowned. “Where are you going?”
“To my bed. I’ll see you in the morning.”
But the morning would bring reality, and she didn’t like reality. Nightshade concentrated and lifted up on her elbow. “But I want you in my bed.” They’d already done the deed and she wanted more.
“Baby, it’s not right. Not like this.” He sat on the edge of the bed, taking her hand in his.
She had no intention of letting him off that easy. “Fine, no touching. But can you just hold me? Please?” She threw the blankets back and patted the bed beside her.
“You could tempt a saint; you know that?” Merc stood, and for a second she was afraid he’d leave. Then he pulled off his shirt, kicked off his boots and crawled into bed with her.
Merc pulled her to him, her head pillowed on his shoulder,and she threw her leg over his and pulled him tight. “I don’t care about saints. I want you.”
Happiness surrounded her, held her, loved her. She fell asleep for the first time in her life truly content.
