Chapter 19: Good Girl Game (His POV)
I curled up beside her. Not touching, gods forbid I do something so obvious. Close enough that her warmth bled into me. I didn't think. Didn't analyze. I just existed. Annie in my bed felt like... home. That thought should've sent me spiraling. But instead I just breathed out slow, let my eyes drift shut, and matched the rhythm of her breathing.
"Sleep, Annie," I whispered, words swallowed by the dark. "I've got you."
For the first time in eons, I knew peace. I didn't remember falling asleep. Only her warmth pressed against me, her breath against my chest, the quiet, impossible calm of being next to someone who didn't need me to perform. Didn't need me to be god or trickster or monster. Just Malvor. Waking up beside Annie was… glorious.
When awareness crept back in, my instincts itched to move. To stir the silence with chaos just to prove I was still me. But then her. She lay curled beside me, utterly unguarded. Breath slow. Lips parted. Soft. Real. I'd seen mortals, gods, even horrors sleep before. Never once did it hold my attention. But Annie? She was fascinating. There was no mask in her rest. No tightness in her jaw, no wariness in her brow. No expectation hovering over me like a blade. Just Annie existing beside me. As if it were natural. As if I wasn't chaos incarnate. That thought… did something to me. Something I did not like. I could practically hear my own voice mocking me. Oh, Malvor, are we catching mortal emotions? How very tragic. How very cliché.
Reluctantly, I untangled myself from her. From us. Her body was curled around me like she belonged there, like this belonged. And damn it, I lingered. One hand through my hair, a sigh dragging itself out of me before I finally slipped away. The air felt colder without her. I ignored it. Pretended not to notice as I padded out of the room. By the time I returned, coffee in hand, she was showered and back in bed. Gods above and below, she looked like sin and salvation rolled into one. She smiled when she saw me. "You made me coffee?"
I set the glass on the bedside table with a smirk. "Yes, Annie my Cherry Blossom. I made iced coffee."
She sipped, humming in satisfaction. "Perfect."
"Of course it is. I made it." Arms crossed, I leaned against the doorway, watching her like she was the only thing worth watching. But the moment her lips touched the glass, I couldn't help myself. I slid back into bed, pulled her against me. I could feel her whole body relax against mine. We didn't speak. Didn't need to. The clink of ice in her glass, the steady rhythm of our breathing, the weight of her hand resting lightly on my chest, those were enough. By the time she finished her coffee, I was certain of one thing. I never wanted to let her go. I kissed her forehead, her cheek, the corner of her lips. Grinning when she leaned, just barely, into each one. "Shall I continue being insufferable, or do you want breakfast first?"
"Breakfast. Then you can continue being insufferable."
"A perfect plan!" I stole one last kiss before untangling myself. "Come, my Annie Cinnamon Roll. Let's feed you before you turn hangry."
This time the kiss I gave her wasn't playful. It was slow. Unhurried. A promise. Her lips lingered under mine, warm and yielding, and something dangerous curled between us.
"Tonight," I whispered against her mouth, voice rich as honey. She didn't breathe. Not because she didn't want me. But because she wanted me too much. The fire in her eyes said everything. Her hand fisted in my shirt, silent confirmation. Gods, I nearly forgot breakfast altogether. But no, patience. Always sweeter when you wait. Make her want this. Give her all day to suffer in the delicious agony.
"Breakfast first, Annie Love," I told her, finally pulling away, though it scraped something raw in me. "You'll need your strength for my plans. Arbor, darling, let's prepare a very nutritious breakfast for our Annie."
The house flickered, pleased with itself. Moments later, the kitchen filled with the scent of a meal fit for queens. Eggs, salmon, avocado, greens, grains, even a protein smoothie thick with berries and honey. I popped a grape into my mouth, grinning. "Oh, Arbor, you get me. Annie will definitely need this."
When I carried the tray back, she was stretching, the blanket slipping off one bare shoulder. Unfair. Utterly unfair. "Good morning, my strong, radiant, soon-to-be-exhausted Annie," I cooed, setting the tray down.
She eyed the meal suspiciously. "This is… responsible of you."
I gasped, clutching my chest. "Annie, I am always responsible."
Her look said otherwise. I plopped onto the bed, smirking. "Eat up, my lovely. You're going to need it."
She narrowed her eyes, lifting a forkful of salmon. "Are you fattening me up?"
"Fattening you up? Absolutely not! I am nourishing you. Cherishing you. Ensuring you'll have ample energy for…" I leaned close, breath hot at her ear, "…later." Her fork froze. Her blush didn't. Perfect. She's so beautiful. She makes it so easy to get under her skin. I sipped my coffee, grinning like the smug, satisfied, chaos-drenched bastard I was.
Annie ate every bite of her food. Savoring it like she was starving, while I lounged back against the pillows, arms tucked behind my head, radiating smugness so thick it should've been illegal. Gods, I was pleased with myself. And then, because I am me and I can never leave well enough alone, I tested my luck. "Oh, Annie, my good girl. Great job eating all that food."
Her fork froze. Mid-air. Oh. That landed. Careful, Malvor. Slowly, painfully slowly, she set it down and turned those narrowed eyes on me. "…Did you just... good girl me?"
I smirked, utterly unrepentant. "Yes. Did you like it?"
Silence. No retort. No sharp jab. Just… stillness. Oh, that was an answer if I'd ever seen one. She liked it. My grin spread wider, wicked as sin. I dropped my voice to a purr. "I read that in one of your books."
The groan she unleashed was magnificent, pure, unfiltered regret. She flung herself back into the pillows, face buried in her hands like she could disappear.
"Oh, Annie," I drawled, leaning closer, savoring the moment. "You did like it. Oh my gods. Oh me. This is hilarious." She groaned again, muffled nonsense. Music to my ears. I pressed in closer, my breath teasing her ear. "You can be my good girl any time."
A pillow slammed into my face. I fell back, laughing, dodging as another came flying. She groaned into the mattress, "I hate you."
"Oh no, my sweet Annie," I cooed, grinning like the bastard I am, shielding myself from her assaults. "You love me."
Another pillow whizzed past my head. But she didn't deny it. Wait... wait... She didn't deny it. My mind screeched to a halt. Replay, hyper-focus, maximum overdrive. The kind I usually save for elaborate pranks on Aerion. Did she just… not deny it? My eyes snapped to her, still buried in pillows, clearly regretting her entire existence. My grin stretched slow, dangerous. "Annie."
A muffled groan. "Annie, darling." Nothing. "Oh Annie Peach Pie, you didn't deny it."
Sharp inhale. Stillness. "I knew you loved me!" I threw my arms wide, cackling in victory. "Arbor, did you hear that? She loves me!"
The lights flickered in gleeful celebration. Annie shot up, flushed, glaring. "I never said that!"
"Oh no, no, no, my love," I wagged a finger, drawl thick with triumph. "You had every opportunity to correct me, and yet, here we are. Do you think you love me, Annie? Because I think you do."
Her glare sharpened to murder. She grabbed my plate, shoved the last bite of food into my smug, open mouth. I choked, coughing on eggs and toast. Then, oh, the betrayal, she leaned in, eyes blazing, voice low and taunting. "Oh Malvor, my good boy, great job eating all your food."
I froze mid-chew. Swallowed hard. All smugness erased. She patted my cheek with a devil's smirk, strutted out, leaving me stunned in her wake.
SLAM.
The bathroom door. Then the sharp click of a lock.
…Oh. That wasn't playful. I wiped my mouth slowly, pacing. "Don't act like you didn't see that! She called me good boy! That was an attack. A strategic, well-aimed attack on my person." I stopped mid-step, pointing accusingly upward. "And worse? I liked it. Bloody hell, do I have a praise kink?"
A slow, lazy blink from the ceiling. Unimpressed.
My glare could have burned holes through the plaster. Traitorous house. Traitorous woman. And gods help me, I loved them both for it.
After much stalking, pouting, and demanding, I finally stilled. Arms crossed, lips pursed, brow furrowed in the deep contemplation of a man who had absolutely been bested but refused to admit it. I sighed dramatically, throwing my head back. "Why won't she let me in?"
Arbor's lights flashed. A few quick blinks, then a soft, pitying hum in the walls. My jaw tightened. "I called out her deep emotions she wasn't ready to face," I repeated flatly. "Huff. What kind of cheap romance novel bullshit is this?"
A flicker. My head snapped up. "Excuse me?"
I let out a sound somewhere between a sigh and a growl, running a hand through my hair. "This is supposed to be my house. I am your god. You should be loyal to me! I hate you."
Another blink. No, you do not. Drama king.
I started pacing. "Bloody hells, do I have to apologize for this?!"
A flicker. I froze. "No. Absolutely not. I've apologized too much lately! I hate it! I am a god! I am not sorry!"
Silence. Which was worse. "Arbor!" I groaned, throwing my hands up. "Damn it! Fine! If you open the door, I will apologize!"
The door creaked open. I narrowed my eyes. "That was too easy."
A single flicker. No take backs. I sighed, rubbing my temple. "This is what my life has become." Apologizing to mortals. I tapped my knuckles against the frame as I stepped inside. Annie looked up from her book. "Annie, are you okay?" The words slipped out before I realized, and I groaned. "Damn it, I did it again." Quoting song lyrics. I straightened, clearing my throat. "What I meant was… Annie, I was rude."
Her brow lifted. Surprise flickered in her eyes.
"All the gods damn it!" I threw up my hands. "Fine! Annie, I am sorry for teasing you!"
The silence that followed was unbearable. From her. From Arbor. Both stunned.
"I… I won't make you face anything you're not ready to," I added, softer this time. "I won't tease you about the big things again."
Still silence. "Ugh! How much more of an apology do you want?!"
Her lips curved. A small, dangerous smile. "None."
The word nearly knocked the air out of me. Relief and disbelief tangled in my chest. "None?"
"None," she confirmed.
And something shifted. The air thickened. The space between us closed. Her tilted head wasn't an invitation. Not exactly. But it was enough. Enough to unravel me. I stepped closer. Then closer still. She didn't move away. Didn't look away. That was all it took. The last thread of restraint snapped. I crushed my mouth to hers, deep, urgent, devouring. She met me without hesitation, hands in my shirt, demanding more. And oh, I gave it to her.
Gods, I would give this woman anything. The thought should have terrified me. Instead, it thrilled me. Urged me to break down the last of her barriers until there was nothing left between us but truth. She made the most wonderful noise. My new favorite sound in all creation. I devoured every one of them like I could hoard them the way a dragon hoards gold. I had never wanted to give so much in all my immortal existence. Her fingers dragged down my chest, over the shifting tattoos that rippled with heat rising in me. A shudder broke through, rare, genuine, nothing to do with magic. Everything to do with her. Annie. My Annie. My hands roamed, mapping her again, every scar, every rune carved into her skin. My mouth followed my hands, lingering over the delicate chaos etched into her ribs. My mark. My lips pressed there, reverent, savoring her gasp, the way her body shivered under me.
"Annie," I murmured against her skin, worship dripping from my voice. She said my name back like I was a god worth praying to. My restraint was dangling by a thread.
Then she whispered, "I want you, Malvor."
The words stilled me. Wound me tight. Dangerous words, because they were true. She wanted me. Me. I lifted my head, searched her eyes. No hesitation. No second guessing. Just her, giving me that truth freely. My hand cradled her cheek, thumb brushing her skin as I drank her in. She was looking at me like I was real. Not a legend, not a trickster, not chaos incarnate. Just Malvor. I bent close, my lips ghosting hers. "Say it again. Please."
Her fingers tangled in my hair, pulling me closer. Her whisper brushed my mouth. "I want you, Malvor."
That was it. My control shattered. My lips crashed against hers, urgent, unrestrained. I kissed her like she was oxygen, pouring every damn thing I felt into it. I lifted her and she wrapped her legs around me as I carried her to our bed. I would give her everything. My grin curved sharp against her mouth, dark amusement lacing my reverence. "Oh, Annie," I purred my tone heavy with promise. "You demand so beautifully."
I unwrapped her like something sacred, stripping away each barrier between us with deliberate care. My hands slid fabric over her shoulders, baring pale skin and the runes etched into it, scars turned into power. My lips followed, reverent, tracing her collarbone, tasting the heat of her pulse. Her breasts rose and fell with shallow, uneven breaths. Full, perfect, begging for my mouth. I cupped them, thumbs grazing over hardened nipples until she gasped, then closed my lips around one, sucking slow and deep until her back arched clean off the bed. Her sigh of my name broke into a whimper, and gods, I nearly lost myself right there. I dragged kisses lower, over the delicate lines carved across her ribs. My chaos burned into her skin. The sight of her bearing my mark undid me. I licked along one curve, felt her shiver under my tongue, then bit gently, claiming and soothing all at once.
Her navel drew me down, the small hollow quivering with every breath. I pressed my mouth there, tasting the heat of her, inhaling her scent, then let my tongue dip lower, toward the edge of her panties. My fingers hooked the fabric, sliding it down inch by devastating inch, exposing the soft curves between her thighs. Gods, that undid me. She was here. Wanting me. That truth, her wanting me, was more than I could bear. Salvation and destruction all at once. I lowered my mouth to her, tasting her, sucking her clit until she writhed beneath me, begging for more. My fingers slid inside her, slow and deliberate, one, then two. Stretching her around me as my tongue teased and tormented. Her hips bucked helplessly, her hands fisting in my hair, desperate sounds spilling from her lips. I added a third, scissoring gently, working her open until she was trembling, clenching, slick and perfect for me. She broke apart on my hand, crying my name like a benediction. I licked her through it, savoring the taste of her release, before easing my fingers free and kissing my way back up her body.
My lips brushed her ear, whisper low and sinful. "Do you even realize what you do to me, Annie?"
Her eyes burned with the same hunger. "Then show me."
I growled, low, approving. "Oh, I intend to, darling."
I kissed her lips, my body settling between hers. I ground against her, slow, maddening, letting her feel the heat of me through the last barriers left. She moaned into my mouth and I drank it greedily. My clothes vanished, magic or impatience, I didn't care. Her fingers dug into my back as I pressed her down, claiming every inch with mouth, hands, body. I hovered over her nearly undone by just that. She looked at me, no mask, no fear, only need. She was flushed, panting, pupils blown wide. I pressed the head of my cock against her entrance and stilled, chest heaving. Her wet pussy waited for me and it nearly destroyed me to hold back. I cupped her face, forcing her eyes to mine. My voice came out ragged. "Tell me now. If you don't want this, if you don't want me, say it. I'll stop."