I tore open the last of his shirt, trailing small kisses down his chest while he said something between a growl and a moan. He stopped and looked down at me with horror, “You aren’t doing this because of the whiskey, are you?”
I giggled, “The whiskey is helping me achieve something I’ve wanted for some time. Now shut up and finish what you started.” Cian bit playfully down on my shoulder, “I started? You attacked me on the bed, vixen.” He gave me a soft kiss, unlike the others. “Vixen… You have me under your spell. Now open your mouth and give me more.”
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The phone buzzing interfered with my pleasant dream, and I complained even before I’d opened my eyes. Cian was asleep beside me, pressed against the wall because of the small bed. I squinted at the phone, trying to identify the caller. Uncle Callum… Did I want to answer that? No, but I had to; maybe he slipped some information about the man with the cane who I believed was behind all this.