“Never,” he said, shaking his head.
Yes, that would fit with no family. Maybe him and I are more alike than I thought. Gathering up a big handful of snow, I began packing it into a hard sphere. “Grault, you're in for a treat.”
****
We played for hours. Despite claiming he was worried about becoming cold, Grault never voiced a single complaint. In fact, it was me, my teeth chattering after the hour grew late, who was the first to shiver.
“Maybe we should go inside,” I chuckled, dusting snowflakes off the blob of a snowman. It was awful looking, and the heavy ice trickling down didn't help.
Grault was very proud of our creation. He'd placed rocks for a mouth and eyes, lovingly choosing the most round ones possible.
Glancing at me, he took in how I was hugging myself. “Your nose is very red. Yes, let's go get warm.”
“I wish I had actually bought hot chocolate,” I said, kicking the crust of snow off my shoes. We left wet puddles on the doormat.
Hanging my coat up on the rack, I instinctively went to reach for his. Of course that was silly, he had no intention to remove it. “Sorry,” I said quickly, “uh, old habit. You sure you don't want to change out of that into something less... wet?”
He ruffled his short hair, bits of frost dusting free. Then he repeated it with his shoulders. “I'm fine, don't worry. You look very cold, though. Let me make you some tea.”
In the kitchen, I huddled in front of the furnace. My fingers throbbed, itchy as sensation returned to them. It had been grey outside for a few days, the sun forbidden.
Squatting in front of the fire made my vision blurry. It ate at the moisture on my face until my skin could have cracked. “Here,” Grault said, bending down to offer me a steaming mug.
“Thanks.” Squeezing it tight, I took a tiny sip. It burned my taste-buds, warming me from the inside.
“Is it good?” he asked, crouching beside me. The fire played off of his hard features, sinking the hollows of his cheeks even deeper.
I knew I was staring. “It's perfect.”
“Perfect,” he repeated, smiling down at me. “Even if it isn't hot chocolate?”
“I wasn't talking about the tea.” Leaning up, I slid my lips across Grault's. I thought I could taste the snow, he was oddly cold. “Maybe you should get closer to the fire,” I mumbled against his cheek.
“Or maybe just closer to you,” he chuckled. He took my tea, setting it on the floor. The flat stones of the kitchen had stolen the heat from the furnace. It felt wonderful on my back when he pushed me down.
Grault's mouth still felt bloodless, a place that even frost wouldn't melt. Yet, the more he pressed against me, the more he stole my own heat. It wasn't long before his tongue was as warm as my forgotten tea.
The front of his jacket was damp, I wanted to ignore it, but it was seeping through my sweater. “Wait,” I gasped, turning away from his eager lips. “Wait a second. We can't do this like this, not here.”
“We're only kissing,” he said against my throat. For a second I felt his teeth.
It was hard to argue, my brain was becoming useless mush. “You want more than kissing,” I managed to say.
“Don't you?” His long fingers curled in my hair, a pillow made just for me.
I do, I do I do I do. But...
Gingerly, I pushed against his chest. “You're soaked, it's distracting. Show me your room, you can change there.”
He leaned off of me, eyes narrowing like I'd told a lie. “You want me to change my clothes?”
“It would be nice.”
“And what if I take off my coat, and have nothing else to wear?”
I thought he was teasing. “Well, that might work, too.”
There was a tightness around his mouth. It was clear something was bothering him, I was prepared for him to dodge the issue like he had so many times. “Alright,” he sighed. “If you're so determined, Farra, I'll show you where I sleep.”
I was on my feet, nearly kicking over the mug of tea. “Really?”
“Yes,” he said, a smile tugging at one corner of his delicious mouth. “But I have to warn you. I don't get company up there, so it may be drab.”
Wait, 'up there?'
“Also,” he went on, “you should bring the lantern. I don't have lights.”
I nodded thoughtfully. “I would have gotten you some, if I had known where to run the wires.”
“It's fine, I never minded.” He led the way from the kitchen with me scurrying at his heels.
I'd left Tessa's lantern in my room, which seemed to be where he was going. Snagging the light wasn't much of a detour. Grault continued along the hallway upstairs, taking me down the path that had become familiar to me on my rounds.
It was only when he reached up, tugging down a set of attic-like stairs at the end of the hall that I stopped in my tracks. “Was that always there?”
“Of course,” he said, motioning me up the steps. “You never noticed?”
“If I had, I would've checked it out.” Shaking my head, I held the lantern high. The wooden stairs were stable, but that didn't make me more eager to ascend them. “You go first.”
Grault climbed in front of me, reaching back to take my hand. “It's safe, trust me.”
My brain was trying to understand how I had never once seen Grault in the hallway, or heard him opening or closing those stairs. Was I that unobservant? It seemed impossible.
The lantern illuminated the room, revealing a big loft that reminded me of Dirk's upstairs. The roof tapered above, rafters melting into the shadows. I couldn't see everything, he hadn't exaggerated when he'd said there were no lights.
He helped me off the top step, letting my hand go reluctantly. Turning in place, I squinted around at the blackness. “Why is it so dark? Do you have no windows at all?” Even the green glass gets a little light. It's dark outside, but still.
“I do have one window,” he said softly, walking off towards the far right wall. Curious, I followed him. The lantern flickered, showing a long cloth the color of charcoal. Grault reached up, tugging it sideways like a shower curtain.
Taller than him, perfectly round, the emerald window was more a circular door than anything else.
I gasped, my breath visible in the chilly room. “It's so big! Why keep it covered?” The snowy outside world let only a hint of glow inside. I imagined that when the sun was shining, the whole room could be beautiful without the cloth.
Instead of answering, he placed a hand on the frosty glass. I thought he was evaluating what he was seeing out there.
Stepping closer, I copied him and touched the window. It was freezing, my breath fogging it up. Wider than my arms, if I'd stretched them both I wouldn't have touched the edges. “Does this open up?”
“It does,” he said, glancing down at me under knit brows. “But it's very cold outside, Farra.”
I wasn't listening. I'd spotted the latch, flipping it open in excitement. It took a hard push to move the window, the ice had sealed the edges. For a second I stumbled, momentum carrying me forward. The snow snatched at me, eager to throw me out into the white world below.
Nimble hands yanked me back, holding me around the waist. “Careful!” he hissed, seething with fear and worry.
I didn't notice.
“This is so beautiful,” I said, gazing out at the ice canvas the hills had become. The window was on the side of the house, explaining how I'd missed it. The slope of the shingles blocked it from below, the solar panels installed on the opposite half of the roof. “I can't believe this view!”
Glancing down, I spotted a flat edge jutting a few feet under the sill. I went to step out, but he held me tight. “Don't, it's slippery.”
“I just want to look,” I assured him. “Let me sit here, then, just inside.” He was tense, but allowed me to hang my legs over into the air. The wind was harsh, snowflakes pattering into the room, sticking to my cheeks. “I can't believe this, your room is amazing!”
/>
He sat beside me, one knee to his chest. “You think so? I feared it might be too plain, too unwelcoming.”
“It's not very warm,” I said, staring at the clouds above. “Does that bother you? I could find out how to get heat up here. Light is easy enough.”
His laugh was gentle, fingers reaching down to entwine with mine between us. “I don't mind the cold. Besides, I spend most of my time in the greenhouse.”
Squeezing his palm, I brushed my hair from my forehead. Bits of snow fell free, melting in my lap. “I don't spend a lot of time in my room, either. I still don't get why you were hiding this from me.”
His lips pressed to my brow-bone, inclining me to shut my eyes. “I didn't think you'd like it. It gets windy, the sound comes through the cracks. It's not a very... suitable place for people.”
For people? I wondered what he meant. Surely, if it was suitable for him, it was fine for others.
“You know,” I whispered, peeking at him through my lashes. I saw that snow had settled on his, blending with the ivory color. “There are ways to fight against the cold, to make a place suitable.”
My breath steamed between us, dancing onto his ashen skin. In the low light, he looked as grey as the first night I'd met him. His shoulders wrapped around, shielding me from the wind. It wouldn't have mattered, my core was hot enough to distract me from such things.
I would have stayed there in the window, letting him kiss me from chin to cheek, if he'd allowed us. Scooping me up, he pulled the green glass shut, hiding us from the winter chill.
Only the lantern showed our bodies, orange glow turning our shadows into giants. I hadn't seen a bed, but Grault placed me on a mattress in the corner furthest from the window.
The blankets lacked warmth, my body helped change that. I was burning up, almost wanting the snow to come back.
“Your coat,” I mumbled, tugging at the coarse material.
His fingers peeled the buttons down, revealing the moon-glow of his pale chest. “Sorry, I forgot it was damp.”
Sitting up, I pulled it down his arms. “That's not why,” I said, my smile coy. “You're behind the curve if you're still thinking about the snow.”
In the shadows, his lips curled like flames. I almost missed it, busy staring at the hard dips of his muscles. “Forgive me for that. I'll try to catch up.”
There was a retort on my lips. He stole it away, teeth grazing my sensitive skin. My fingers were shaking, trailing over his bare back to explore the nooks and lines. He felt powerful, something I'd always been aware of in theory. Now, having Grault pressing me down with the same arms that had carried me so easily from danger, I was losing my mind.
His breath caressed my inner ear, palms racing down my ribs. He didn't ask if he could lift my sweater, but I wasn't about to deny him. I wanted to feel his incredibly silken skin, polished marble, on my own.
How is he in such good shape? It's amazing, it's... these shoulders, god. I should have felt shy, wondered why someone as fit and handsome as Grault would give me the time of day. But the way he held me, ravished me in such a hungry desperate display, there was no room for doubt.
He wanted me, wanted me more than I'd seen him crave for anything else. No, wait, that's not entirely true. The night he came for me, he almost knocked my door down. That was... My thoughts fled, erased by how he ripped my shirt over my head. It left me dizzy, brunette hair frazzled.
Grault had always been so controlled with me, so polite and proper. Even as we grew close, I'd only seen hints of the beast laying in wait.
It was like I'd entered his lair, the place he'd warned me away from. Now, alone with him in the dark, he was letting himself free.
His snarl along my throat, buried in the crook above my shoulder, elicited a gasp. A single, easy yank tore my bra open. Slow down, I thought suddenly, but my body ignored my plea. I arched against him, soft stomach crushed on his iron muscles.
His chest was rumbling like an engine. It burned me up, dragged me along for the ride. He flexed against me, torso rock hard, hips insistent.
We met eyes, a split second that let me see the ancient blackness glowing in his. I wanted to say something, anything. He smiled, and I imagined the glint of sharp teeth.
Had I imagined them?
What was left of my words dissipated, his face burying against my breasts. It was wet, reminding me of melting hail. The kisses of his expert lips proved even better on my delicate chest.
He's so confident, he knows what he's doing. Maybe I was wrong about his age... maybe he is as old as he claims...
Every tug of his mouth made me squeal, my cheek rubbing on the blanket. I was grateful for his strange, blunt name. It let me hiss it through my teeth with my next moan. “Grault! I—just...”
If he heard me, he gave no hint. Or maybe it was why he slid his fingers down to my waist. He had complete control of me, his animal drive setting my cells aflame.
I felt him, then, the heat between his thighs. He pulled himself over me, blocking out the light of the lantern. I could see nothing of his face, but his aura poured off of him in waves; lust, pure lust.
We don't have protection, I thought suddenly. It was a cold shock, reminding me painfully of my own mother, her young pregnancy. I was older, but I'd be lying to say I felt ready to be a mom.
And yet... feeling the hot, rigid weight of his manhood between us, it was burying my rationale. His scent, the way he so easily slid my jeans down, grew the fog in my head.
I shouldn't have been so reckless. It wasn't like me. It was also difficult to remember what I was like, with the way his hands felt playing over my hips.
Bad idea, I thought silently, groaning into his hard collar bone. Irresponsible, I noted, reaching down to feel the throbbing shape of his member.
Awful, dumb, dangerous.
My scream echoed in the loft when he pushed inside, shoving my panties out of the way. The fact he hadn't even taken them off set my belly surging.
He exhaled in my ear, growling deep in the back of his throat. It vibrated against my skull. I felt myself floating away.
Every pump of his hips made me louder, it was useless to try to bite back the noise. He gripped my middle, almost circling around the whole thing with his long fingers. I felt so small, so wrapped up in every fiber of that man.
I'd wanted him to want me, to stop denying me, and now he was. Now, there was nothing left to deny. He had all of me, he'd taken it without question, like he'd known all along that I wished for it.
Grault crushed me down, sliding against my slick flesh. The pressure in my center was building, growing so much I thought I might break in two. I felt full, I felt safe, I felt...
I felt loved.
“Farra,” he grunted, moving me against him as he hit his peak. That was it for me. I couldn't control the heat waves, how they made my toes clench and knot.
Feeling his release shoved me over. I wondered, if I had fallen from the window, if it would have felt similar to this.
Electric fire, my muscles twitched. I knew I'd left nail marks in his back, how could I not have?
In my daze, coming down from my crescendo, I noticed it was my fingers that actually hurt. Like I was digging my nails into concrete.
Grault nuzzled my neck, sitting up over me. His eyes were still searing, but they cooled to concern in seconds. “Farra, I'm—was I too rough? Forgive me, I was just—”
“Shut up,” I chuckled, my hands in his short hair, guiding him so I could taste his lips. “I'm fine, that was just... I don't even know.” My face was glowing, I felt the heat radiating.
Grault kissed my eyebrows, then slid free with a wince. Nude, he turned away on the blankets. In the glow of the lantern, I saw the intricate tattoos on his shoulder blades.
“Those are beautiful,” I whispered, reaching out to touch them. “When I saw them that day in the greenhouse, I was astonished. It must have hurt to get done, though, they're so big and everything—oh, uh, speaking of which. I thi
nk I might have cut you some, with my nails. Sorry about that, I wasn't exactly thinking straight.”
His eyes flashed, one palm reaching back to stroke his own skin. He didn't look hurt, but I blamed it on the darkness. “It's fine, I was more worried I'd injured you.”
“No,” I insisted, sitting up on my knees. Draping my arms around his neck, I hugged him from behind. “Don't even say that. I'm a tough girl, haven't you noticed?”
Grault's smile was brittle. “I suppose I have.”
Glancing around, I felt my trepidation growing. The chill was coming back, my body heat fleeing as the passion did. “I mean this in the nicest way, but I might not be able to sleep up here.”
There, the lines of his forehead grew. I saw them before he turned away. “You're right. You should go back to your room.”
“Don't misunderstand,” I said, feeling the tension in his neck. “I would stay, but this snow is making things awful. We'll have to get your room more, uh, hospitable. I don't know how you can handle it, actually.”
He offered me my sweater, then hesitated when he lifted the broken lingerie. “Not my proudest moment.”
“Shh,” I said, taking them both, “I enjoyed that moment. So stop ruining it.” My grin was meant to tease, I was relieved to see him mirror me.
Dressing quickly, I gave him another long hug. He seemed in no rush to redress, but I didn't mind. He was pure eye candy.
Leaving him was a chore. He kissed me a few more times, each of them making my heart flutter. I began to hate the cold, an idea forming. “You could come sleep in my room,” I blurted.
“What?” he asked, sitting up straight. “Would that be appropriate?”
My eyebrow slowly crawled upwards.
Laughing, he slipped his pants up, the sound of the zipper making my veins crackle. “I've always spent the nights—well.” He didn't finish, and I watched him stare out at the window. “Perhaps, tonight, it wouldn't matter.”
“What wouldn't matter?” I asked.
Shaking his head, he grabbed the lantern and offered it to me. “Never mind. Come, let's go to your bed.”
“My room,” I said, poking his naked chest. “I never said my bed. What kind of girl do you think I am?”
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