Page 50 of An Oath at Midnight

I squeezed my eyes closed.

Fuck. This was agony. The kind that hurt but you craved it anyway.

I looked down at her. She was still asleep, and I couldn’t bring myself to wake her. Thankfully, there was still plenty of time before we’d have to leave. I brushed her hair back from her face. Better to go in the middle of the night, anyway.

I’d always preferred the night—not a crow thing, a me thing. I liked the quiet and calm during those hours. I never used to talk much, still didn’t, unless it was with Magnolia. I didn’t like people looking at me, didn’t like being the center of attention.

The only person I wanted noticing me was her.

Mags made a breathy little sound, and my cock grew harder. This wasn’t new. When Mags slept beside me, I wanted her. I always wanted her. Usually, though, I could control my shit. I could will my dick down. The last thing I wanted was to make things even weirder between us. And Mags waking up and accidentally brushing up against my hard cock would definitely make things weirder. The way she’d looked at me earlier, yeah, she definitely felt the growing tension between us. I just didn’t know what she thought it meant or what would happen when it grew more intense, because it would, it had to. There would be a breaking point.

And I was terrified that when that day came, the truth would come out, and we’d never be the same again—or worse, Mags would withdraw, that she’d pull away from me. My fucking chest hurt even thinking about it.

She curled into me more firmly, and the warmth of her little body, the press of her full curves plastered to my front, had me gasping for fucking air. There was no willing my erection away, not this time.

Fuck. I needed a minute.

Carefully, I slid a pillow between us, so she was resting on it and not me, then eased from the bed. My gaze moved over her. So fucking gorgeous. Every inch of her, inside and out. The grip in my lower gut tightened and my hands fucking shook from how much I wanted to get back in that bed, how much I wanted to touch her.

How much I wanted her to touch me in return.

“Fuck,” I muttered and forced myself to leave the room. I needed to get out of there, just for a minute, just to get myself under control.

The house was silent, everyone asleep, so I took the stairs, walked out the back door and across to my tree house, then flew up to the deck. I kept walking, through the living room, past the bed, and into the bathroom. I needed to cool the fuck off before I went back into her bedroom.

Stripping off, I turned on the shower and stepped in. It was hot tonight, and the cool water felt good on my overheated skin, but it did nothing to ease the ache burning through me. I tried to stop myself from going there, from letting thoughts of Mags and me, of us, doing things that we never could, from filling my mind. It was dangerous, those thoughts, but tonight I was weak, my control for shit. Especially when her warm curves were still imprinted on my flesh, as if she were right there with me.

I slapped my hands against the tiled wall and let the water run down my back as images flooded my mind. When I was younger, I’d been shy, quiet. I’d always been that way. I met Mags when I was sixteen, the freaky, skinny kid with the scary, black eyes. She hadn’t been scared, though, she hadn’t shied away or flinched when she met my gaze like everyone else, like other girls who weren’t from our village. Not that I’d been interested in chasing females back then. I’d never touched a girl, never kissed one, never fucked one, and I still hadn’t because Magnolia was it for me, whether she was mine in truth or not. And she always would be. No matter what happened between us, that was a truth that would never change.

Images of Mags and me in her bed filled my head, of her waking beside me, her big amber eyes sleepy and soft like they always were in the morning. And instead of smiling up at me, then resting her head on my chest like she usually did, I cupped the side of her beautiful face with one hand and fisted her hair with the other, then tilting her head back, I took her mouth, owning it. Because it was mine, she was mine. Kissing her deep and hard, washing away Clayton’s hateful kiss and Relic’s fucking kiss as well, making her taste all the hunger inside me, all the longing and pain and heat that blazed hot inside me, the fire for her that had never gone out since the day I met her.

Squeezing my eyes tight, I ran a hand down my chest, imagining it was hers, over my abs, then curled my fingers around my cock, gripping it tight.

* * *

Magnolia

I blinked into the dark room. The only sound was rain hitting the roof. My hand shot out, searching for Bram, but the bed was empty.

Panic filled me instantly, and I threw back the covers, shoved on my shoes, snatched up my phone, and rushed down the stairs to the kitchen.

It was 1:00 a.m. He wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye. He wouldn’t. Still, the panicky feeling grew as I grabbed one of the raincoats by the door, then slipped out to the backyard.

I jogged across the soggy grass to the tree house and quickly scaled the ladder.

“Bram?” I called as I shoved open the door.

The rain was coming down harder now, loud against the tin roof, and if he’d replied, I hadn’t heard him. I strode through the living room and into the dark bedroom. The bed was empty, but the bathroom door was open and light spilled out. I didn’t hear the shower running until it was too late.

A low moan echoed off the tiles, and I spun around.

And froze.

Get out of there, now, my mind screamed, but I couldn’t move. My feet were cemented in place, and I couldn’t look away. My mouth went dry, and my heart hammered in my chest.

Bram stood behind the glass, one forearm braced against the tiles, his head pressed against it, his eyes screwed shut. Muted light danced over his naked body, highlighting the intricate tattoos that covered his back and arms, and showcased every muscle, every ridge, every vein and tendon—his other big, rough-skinned hand was wrapped around the impossibly hard length of his cock.

He bit his lip, as though he was trying to hold back, but another groan escaped as he stroked himself hard and fast.