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He shakes his head. “I can’t blame you for it, but I couldn’t live with it. I’ll be a danger to every client you take. And I’m in no position to tell you not to work. I’d support you if I could, but I’ve got nothing more than the stone perch I rest on each day.”
I pull back, pushing my fingers through my hair. Things have gone from one to a hundred very quickly. I can’t deny a huge part of me longs for exactly what William is offering. Haven’t I wanted all my life to feel what it’s like to be loved unconditionally? Irrevocably? He can’t mean that, though. No one can love me like that. Not when my own parents can’t.
I nod, words sticking in my throat.
William mirrors my movement, lifting himself to his feet and replacing his loincloth. “Thank you for what you did for me tonight. I’ll never forget it. But if you don’t want to be mine, you have to stay away from now on. Now, I’m free. Because I want you too much to let you go a second time.”
A watery smile pushes through the whirlwind of my feelings. “You know that’s not as persuasive as you think it is, right now. But I take your point.” I get to my feet and find my clothes.
“Come.” William holds out his hand for me. “I’ll take you home safe. We can’t linger here.”
TWELVE
William
I remember sleepless nights as a man. I remember tossing and turning on my straw pallet on the ill-fated journey to the Holy Land. Too pent up with excitement and restless energy to sleep.
Sleepless days as a gargoyle are not like that.
They are far, far worse.
As a gargoyle, I’m locked in place. I can’t turn my head. I can’t move my hand to scratch my balls, let alone pace my tower or swoop down from the roof of the theater to track Jessie’s scent back to the awful place she calls home.
It took all my willpower to set her down at the doorway of the inn where she’s staying, and smelling the stink of cheap alcohol and vomit. Unwashed sheets and cooking oil, and her despair.
I hate knowing she doesn’t want to stay there. She doesn’t have to tell me, I could feel it in the way her hands lingered on my arms after I set her down. The way her eyes flicked back to me as she walked through the door.
Most of all, I hate knowing I can’t provide a better home for her. There’s no question she’s my mate. No one else could have reversed the process of petrifaction without me even sinking my cock into her perfect cunny. No one else could rouse the kind of jealous possessiveness I feel even now. Even frozen into stone, my heart burns with the need to have her close, to watch and protect her.
But I’ll never see her again. Not if she listens to me. If she knows what’s good for her she’ll stay away. I’ll never get to smell her spicy sweet currant scent again or watch the way her rosy lips part on a sigh when she first runs her fingers through her wet pussy.
Selfish bastard I am, when I wake as night falls across the city, I instantly turn my head to the door of the tower, hoping against hope she’ll appear. Christ, let her ignore my thoughtless words. Let her desire for me be halfway as fierce as mine for her, and she’ll be back here tonight, unable to help herself.
She doesn’t come.
Somehow, I stop myself from leaving my tower in search of her. I dig my claws into the stonework and tear chunks from my archway, but I stop myself.
