Read Hoarfrost (Whyborne & Griffin Book 6) for Free Online Page A

I pressed the tip against his fundament, hands tightening on the headboard
until his knuckles showed white.
    He let
out a small cry of pleasure as I worked in, careful not to go too quick. He
pushed back against me, asking for more.
    I gave
it to him, everything I had. Recalling his earlier request, I wrapped my arms
around him. The sole advantage of my height was it let me cover him with my
body, draping myself protectively over him, while he supported us with his grip
on the headboard.
    “Yes,”
he whispered. “Tighter.”
    I held
him close, arms across his chest, hips moving slow and steady. His body gripped
my cock, hot and tight, every movement a sweet thrill of pleasure. I slid one
hand down to find his erection, wanting him to feel it, too.
    He
arched his back against me in response. Encouraged, I stroked him in time to my
thrusts. “Yes, Ival,” he gasped and shuddered. “Faster. Please.”
    I did as
he asked, giving myself over to the blind rhythm of desire. I pressed my face
against his neck, inhaling deeply, smelling his sweat and musk. Every shift of
skin on skin sent sparks of ecstasy crackling along my nerves. The flame of the
candle burned higher, and a breeze born from nowhere ruffled my hair.
    Griffin
encouraged me with wordless grunts, and I closed my eyes, pleasure cresting
like a wave. I cried out against his neck, a night bird echoing me just outside
the window. The great vortex of magic turned widdershins beneath us.
    Griffin
shouted, bucking in my grasp. A moment later, his hot seed slicked my fingers.
    I slowed
my pace, wringing a last sigh from him before letting go. I remained for a long
moment, still wrapped around him, our breathing gradually returning to normal.
When I felt steady on my feet again, I pulled free and padded to the washbasin,
attending first to myself, then to him.
    When I
returned to bed, he’d collapsed onto his side. I slid between the sheets,
touching his face gently with my hand.
    “Do you
feel better?” I asked. “And do you want to talk about it?”

Chapter 7
     
    Griffin
    I
offered Ival a rueful smile. “Was it obvious?”
    “To me.”
Ival linked his hand with mine, gazing into my eyes across a few inches of
pillow. “But I like to think I know you a bit.”
    “Just a
bit?” I teased. My body felt limp in the afterglow of pleasure. So much easier
to close my eyes and fall asleep beside him than think of these things.
    “And now
you’re trying to derail the conversation.”
    I turned
my gaze from his. The gentle light of the candle sparked off the rings on our
joined hands, warming the gold and finding a hidden sheen on the black pearl
adorning Whyborne’s. “I’m afraid.”
    It was a
hard thing to admit, even to him.
    “Of
losing Jack?” he guessed.
    “In
part.” There were so many other things to fear. “I only just found him. We’ve merely
exchanged letters, but he seems a good man. A decent man.” Like Pa. “But I’m
afraid of losing you, too.”
    Ival’s fingers
tightened on mine. “What do you mean?”
    “We’ve
seen so much horror and death since we met.” I finally met his gaze again,
needing him to understand. “You came so close to dying in Egypt. And last year,
when you went off alone to confront the Endicotts…”
    “Persephone
went with me,” he objected.
    “But I
didn’t.” Because his damned brother shot me. Watching Ival walk out the doors
of the museum, staying behind while he went to save us all, had been the
hardest moment of my life. It gave me the strength to force my bleeding body
up, to go after him, to do something, anything, to help.
    The
sight of him floating in midair over the ruined bridge, blue fire pouring from
the scars on his arm, from his eyes, had seared itself into my memory. And then
he’d fallen into the river, where he would surely have drowned if Christine
hadn’t gone in after him. While I stood by and watched helplessly, terrified he
was dead, or the maelstrom had burned away his mind, and