“Ex,” he amended.
“No.” She fought against the drugging pleasure, to wake up. She gave his hand a halfhearted push. “Stop it. I can’t keep my eyes open when you do that.”
“So don’t.” He smoothed his palm over her head. He liked how her voice got soft with drowsiness. He liked that she didn’t smell of fear any longer, that her scent was tinged with a lingering faint arousal. “Go to sleep,” he murmured.
“Gotta meet that deadline. Set an alarm.” She tried to struggle to her feet.
As she was rising off her knees, he hooked an arm around her waist and pulled her down on top of him. It wasn’t hard. She was off balance to begin with and wobbly with fatigue. She oophed and tried to push off him, but he wrapped his arms around her and trapped her in place.
“Lie down,” he ordered. “I’ll make sure we leave on time. Go to sleep.”
She collapsed on him like a house of cards. He pulled her head into a comfortable spot on his uninjured shoulder. “Quit giving me orders,” she yawned. Under the guise of shifting to get comfortable, she rubbed her cheek against his chest, wallowing in the sensation of warm, powerful male. It seeped into the cold cracks that ran deep inside her. “You’re not the boss of me.”
“Sleep,” he told her.
Just like that, from one moment to the next, she was asleep.
No one was around to witness when he experimented with pressing his lips against her forehead.
He decided he liked that too.
SIX
The bed shifted underneath her. Pia yawned and rubbed her nose. Why was the mattress so uneven and warm? Her eyes popped open. The room was full dark. All she could see were shadows.
She was sprawled on Dragos, their legs entangled. She stiffened and tried to push herself upright, but the heavy arms encircling her refused to let her go. And her head was pinned. She gave a tug. He had wrapped her hair around one thick wrist.
Gravel seemed to be lodged in her throat. She croaked, “You think I would try to run away again while you slept? I wouldn’t leave you when you were hurt.”
He unwound her hair and let go of the ends, smoothing it back. “I didn’t sleep.”
This time when she pushed onto her elbows, he let her, allowing one arm to loop across her waist. Not going to think about that nap. Not going to think about sleeping in his arms or how shocking it was that it felt so good. Whoops. She just thought about it.
“How could you not sleep?” she asked. “Did you feel too sick?”
“It’s not my usual habit, but I can go days at a time without eating or sleeping if I need to.” He kept his voice at a sedate pitch. The sound rumbled through her. “I have no intention of sleeping in the Elven demesne. Besides, all I needed to do was rest.”
“How do you feel now?” Too groggy to keep her head up, she sank down again and rested her cheek on his pectoral. Mmm. Satin skin over iron.
“Better. My shoulder feels like ice, but the pain has eased. I’ll be able to get up and move around, but I don’t think I’ll be able to shift until well after their deadline expires. The magic of their poison was well constructed.”
She ran light fingers over his injured shoulder. The area felt feverishly hot, much warmer than the rest of his body, not icy. “That doesn’t hurt?”
“No.” He captured her hand and brought it up to his mouth. She stiffened as he slipped her forefinger into his mouth and sucked.
Just like that the intense lust from the dream came roaring back. His hold on her waist shifted her until he brought them into better alignment, pelvis to pelvis. The evidence of his arousal jutted long and thick under his jeans. She groaned and tried to wriggle away. All she managed to do was rub their bodies together.
She choked, “Stop it.”
He took his time sucking his way to the tip of her finger. His dark voice brushed her like a lazy tiger rubbing against her skin. “Why? You wanted me in the dream. I wanted you. I have smelled your arousal since. Only a few hours have passed. We have time before we need to leave.” He licked her palm, a sensation that shot all the way down her body to throb between her legs.
She gasped. “What happened was in a dream!”
“So? We both still want it.” His lips moved to the delicate skin of her wrist.
The pulse at her wrist beat a frantic tattoo against his mouth. His tongue traced the vein. She was not just shocked but bewildered. He was such a sledgehammer kind of male, but this sensuality had a knowledgeable gentleness she didn’t know how to handle. She had to work to find her outrage again. When she did, it was whimpering in delight.
“The dream was a spell! It wasn’t real.”