I pointed past him to where the bed used to be.
He strode off and I almost growled. I didn’t want him to let go of me. The world reeled. I was light-headed, as if drunk.
Curran reappeared with a condom.
He peeled open a packet. For an absurd second I thought the condom wouldn’t fit. Somehow he got it on, loomed over me, and kissed my neck. His teeth grazed my skin. He clenched me to him.
I swung my legs around his hips.
The huge muscles of his back bulged under my hands. He thrust, and I cried out again as he slid inside me, filling me, hot and hard. My body shuddered. He thrust again and again, building into a smooth rhythm, and I moved with him, rocking and trying not to pass out from bliss. Another orgasm exploded in me, tearing a scream from my mouth. Curran thrust deep. My body clenched around him. He growled and emptied himself, and we collapsed onto the blankets.
I was out of breath.
It had to be a hallucination, but I was so happy, I didn’t care.
He pulled me to him, and I put my head on his chest. His hand caressed my hair. His heartbeat was even and strong. We lay together as the sweat slowly cooled on our skin.
I rolled over and punched his ribs. He grunted.
“That’s for that damn phone call.”
He caught me into a hug, pinning my arms. “I think a mosquito bit me.”
I tried to pull away but he had me wrapped up.
Gray eyes looked into mine. “Why didn’t you come to the Keep?”
“Oh, I planned on it. Had my boots on, ready to go, when I remembered it would cause an interagency disaster. I was being responsible.”
He shook with laughter.
“Shut up. How was I supposed to know that you let two little bears hurt you, Goldilocks?”
“Ah, yes, that mouth. I missed it.” He crushed me to him in a fierce hug. “All mine now.” My bones whined.
“Can’t . . . breathe,” I squeaked.
“Sorry,” he whispered, letting me go just enough to inhale.
We lay together for a while, until the cold air from the open window got to me and I shivered.
“You’re cold.” He rose and went to close the window.
My gown clung to my legs and bunched around my waist. I wriggled and slid it off.
“We’ve ruined your Princess Buttercup dress,” he said.
“I have the worst luck with that dress.” I raised myself on the elbow to kick it off and caught sight of my apartment. We’d wrecked the place. “At least the building is still standing.”
“I pride myself on restraint,” he said.
We picked the pillows up off the floor and found the blanket. He slid into bed next to me, and I wrapped myself around him, my head on his chest.
“What the freak said, it’s not like that,” Curran said.
“I know,” I told him and kissed the corner of his jaw.
“I’ve never forced anyone and I don’t lie to you.”
A long, sad whine rolled through the apartment.
Curran frowned. “Is that your mongrel?”
“He’s an attack poodle. I found him at an incident scene, washed him, shaved him, and now he guards the house and barfs on the carpet.”
“What’s his name?”
I stretched against him. “Grendel.”
“Odd name for a poodle.” He turned, taking full advantage of the fact that my breasts were squished against him.
“He came into a mead hall full of warriors in the middle of the night and scared them half to death.”
“Ahh. That explains it.” His hand caressed my shoulder, then my back. It was a deceptively casual caress, and it made me want to rub myself against him. He leaned in closer and kissed me. His teeth grazed my lower lip. He kissed my chin and began working his way down my neck. Mmmm . . .
“I read lions can have sex thirty times a day,” I murmured.
He raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, but it only lasts half a minute. Would you prefer the twenty-second special?”
I rolled my eyes. “What woman could pass on that offer?”
His hand cupped my breast. His fingers brushed my nipple and I shivered.
“I’m not all lion,” Curran said. “But I do bounce back quickly.”
He shrugged. “Two minutes.”
“I do slow down eventually,” he said. “After the first couple of hours or so.”
Couple of hours . . . I slid my hand down his chest to his stomach, feeling the hard ridges of muscle. I’d wanted to do that for so long. “It’s good that we have a whole box of condoms.”
He laughed low, like a satiated predatory cat, and swung me on top of him.
I OPENED MY EYES, SAW LIGHT, AND JERKED UP-RIGHT.
The magic was still down. Thank the universe.
The bed was back in its rightful place. Oh, good. I’d dreamed the whole thing up.
Curran walked into the room. He wore Pack sweatpants he must’ve gotten out of my closet and nothing else. Toned muscle bulged on his chest and arms, hardened by constant exertion. He had the build of a man who fought for his life—neither too bulky, nor too lean, a perfect combination of strength and supple quickness.
And he grinned like a man who’d had a rather long and exciting night.
Nope. Not a dream.
I did sleep with him. Dear God.
Curran’s gray eyes laughed at me. “Morning.”
“Tell me I’m still sleeping.”
He showed me the edge of his teeth. “No.”
I lay back down and pulled the sheet on top of me. I couldn’t have been that reckless.
“It’s too late for that,” he said. “I’ve already seen everything. Actually I’m pretty sure I’ve already touched and tasted everything, too.”
“I just need a moment to cope with this.”
“Take your time. I’m not going anywhere.”
That was what I was afraid of.
It occurred to me that I didn’t hear any barking. “Where is my dog?”
“I let him out.”
I jerked up. “On his own?”
“He’ll come back once he’s done. He knows where the food is.”
Curran strode over to the bed, moving silently, his bare toes gripping the floor lightly as he walked, as if he still had claws. He really was an incredibly attractive bastard. He leaned over the bed. His lips brushed mine. He kissed me. And I kissed him back. He tasted of Curran and toothpaste. Clearly, I had lost my mind.