Tonight, she would win this game once and for all.
These are the things she told herself as Gideon carried her into his apartment. She had to. Because if she didn’t, a deeper truth would come roaring to the surface. A truth that asked: What if?
What if she wasn’t a witch and he wasn’t a witch hunter?
What if this didn’t have to be pretend?
Inside, he set her down and shut the door behind them. In the momentary absence of him, Rune took in her surroundings. Pale light from the streetlamps spilled through the windows, silhouetting the spare furnishings. Rune had the strangest urge to turn on the lights and commit every shelf, floorboard, and piece of furniture to memory. As if every object might tell her a secret about him. Rune wanted to know them all.
Gideon’s hand found hers. He tugged her through a door and into the room beyond. When Rune sighted the dark outline of a bed and realized where they were, her stomach tightened. She felt like she always did before a heist: equal parts nervous and excited.
He kissed down her throat, his fingers working the clasp at the top of her riding jacket. “Promise you’ll tell me if you change your mind …”
Arching her throat, she buried her hands in his hair. “I won’t change my mind.”
“But if you do …”
“Gideon.” Close to his ear, Rune whispered: “Less talking.”
He smiled against her skin.
His hands made quick work of her buttons, and her jacket loosened. Peeling it off her, he dropped it on the floor. Rune wore only a bralette underneath, the white lace illuminated by the pale light from the street.
At the sight of it, Gideon made a rough sound in his throat. Her whole body shivered in response. Rune tugged the hem of his shirt out from where it tucked into his trousers and slid her palms underneath, skidding up his warm, solid chest.
He worked at the button of her leather riding leggings as he kissed the hollow of her throat, the line of her collarbone, the skin through the lace of her bralette. Pulling her deeper under his spell.
When her leggings were loose enough, his hand dipped beneath the line of her underwear, sliding warm fingers between her thighs.
A tiny sound escaped Rune, who trembled beneath his caresses.
Gideon didn’t stop. Her fingers curled into her palms at the pleasure he was stoking. Her breathing turned uneven. She looped her arms around his neck and pressed her face against his shirt, unable to think. No longer caring how dangerous he was. How bad for her.
“Take off your shirt,” she said. “I want to see you.”
He immediately obliged, eager to please.
“Anything else you’d like me to …”
Grabbing the bottom hem of her bralette, Rune tugged it over her head and dropped it on the floor.
He sucked in a breath. “Rune.”
She took his hands and pressed them to her skin, guiding him to the places she most wanted to be touched. His palms moved over her, exploring every inch of her. Cupping her soft curves. Stroking her bare skin.
She relished the roughness and warmth of his hands.
Rune pushed down her leggings next, and her underwear with them, kicking herself free. At the sight of her, Gideon’s breath shuddered out of him. She dragged the tip of her nose carefully across his jaw as she undid the buttons of his uniform trousers. A moment later, they too dropped to the floor.
“Can we move to the bed?” she asked.
“We can do anything you want.”
Cupping her neck, Gideon kissed her, walking her backward. Rune sighed against his lips, letting him lead her there.
Her bare calves hit the wood of the bed frame behind her. Drawing back the covers, she sat down and drew him in after her. He straddled her legs as he bent to kiss her. Rune lost herself in the sensation of his mouth on the bare skin of her stomach, the scrape of his teeth on her hip bone, the roughness of his cheeks as he kissed between her thighs.
Rune had never known this kind of hunger. He was drowning her in it. Drowning her with his mouth and his hands and the growl of her name deep in his throat. Bringing her to the cusp of a world she’d never dreamed existed.
Before thrusting her over the edge, Gideon came back up.
“Wait, no,” said Rune, breathless. “Why are you stopping?”
“Oh, I’m not stopping.” He lowered himself gently on top of her, nuzzling her cheek. “I was just warming you up.”
Oh.
He moved against her.
Oh.
Her legs tightened around him like a snare.
“Unless you’d prefer me down there …”
“No,” she said, as his hands moved over her again, fingers stroking, warming. She liked him up here. The heat of his skin on hers. The delicious, heavy weight of him.