“Oh.” Red dots Eryx’s cheeks. It’s adorable. “I think it’s giving us some space.”
“Good. Then it won’t mind if we keep doing what we’re doing.”
His expression shifts, becoming raw, hungry.
Eryx kisses me again, like he can’t get enough, pushing me into the roses. Next thing I hear is a loud rip.
It’s the sound of my shirt and bra tearing down the middle.
“Too much?” he asks bashfully.
I shake my head. “Not even close.”
He kisses me again. “You are my beautiful monster.”
“Why do you keep calling me that?”
He drops his head down to my collarbone, between my breasts, takes one nipple in his mouth and I moan.
“Because I never ate nightmares like that on my first try. You did. And you didn’t listen to me.”
“Listening is overrated.”
He laughs. “I don’t think so.”
I pull his hair, and he’s standing again, kissing me, his hands stroking my breasts, pinching my nipples.
My breath hitches and he smirks. “Too much?”
“Not enough.”
He pulls back and takes a long look at me, drinking me in. “You are so beautiful.”
My gaze skims his bare chest, landing on his wounds. My throat tightens because he’s so beautiful, so hurt. So…everything. “You’re still healing.” I reach out and touch the puckered flesh right about his heart. “You saved me.”
I trace the lines, the angry pink wounds, and I step in to him and press my lips to the deepest gash. “Thank you.”
He hooks a finger under my chin and tips my face until our eyes meet. “I would do it again. And again and again. I would always choose you.” His voice drops. “Because I’ve…I’ve been waiting for you.”
The words hang between us. Raw. True. Ten years alone with Nightmare. Ten years of darkness.
And then I walked into his study in sparkly shoes.
My breath catches because I know what he means. “And I would say yes every time you asked.”
His chest goes still—he knows what I’m saying. I would say yes every time he proposed. Every single time.
He presses his lips to my forehead. “Saving you was the best thing I’ve ever done.”
He takes my hand and kisses me. Above us, I hear acrack.
We break apart and glance up. The roses have pierced the glass dome.
“We should be careful,” he murmurs.
“No, we shouldn’t.”
He laughs. Then he kisses me again, and his arms circle my back. He runs a hand down my spine and stops.
