"Can I just get one more of those concoctions, Lloyd?" I asked, gulping down the last of whatever mixture of alcohol was in the glass in front of me.

After hearing Lloyd practically confirm at least some of what I'd read in the book, I felt like my head was going to explode, so I did the only thing I could to keep my mind occupied: keep drinking. In my two years I spent at the university, I built up quite the tolerance, but whatever Lloyd was mixing together had quite the effect on me.

"Are you sure, Miss Fox? This will be the fifth one, and most people are falling off the barstool by now," Lloyd cautioned, wiping his hands on a white cloth and tossing it to the bartop.

"Yes, I'm sure," I slurred, leaning toward him and nodding vigorously. "I can handle it."

He glanced at the clock and raised an eyebrow. "You know last call was thirty minutes ago."

I crossed my arms and stuck out my lip in a petulant pout. "But Llooooooyd," I whined. "I'm the owner of this here establishment, so don't you think it's fair I get just one more drink?" I held up an index finger to illustrate my point.

With a sigh, Lloyd turned his back to me and set to work.

"Come on, I think you've had enough," said a warm voice in my ear as strong fingers curled around my bicep.

I jumped in my seat and whirled around to see Archer right in my face, his breath minty and eyes a deep, dark amethyst. I hopped off the stool and pressed myself against him. "How long have you been standing here? Just let me grab my drink, and we can go back to my room." I wiggled my eyebrows and ran a finger down the center of his chest.

Keeping his eye on the bartender, Archer whispered, "I'll come back and get your drink when it's done." His hand engulfed mine, and he led me out of the bar despite my whimpered protest for my abandoned drink.

Archer stopped in the narrow walkway between the lobby and bar and pressed the corner of a painted picture's frame. The wall swung back enough to give us entrance into the secret passages behind it. He guided me through the dark and I stumbled behind him as everything around me tilted and spun.

"Shit," I mumbled as I stepped on his heels and fell against him, gripping his waist to stop myself from hitting the ground. "Sorry, Arch." I righted myself and bunched his shirt in my fist to keep my balance, taking a deep breath and closing my eyes to try and stop the spinning.

"Not a problem. Here." He took my arms, wrapped them around his neck, and grabbed my thighs, hoisting me onto his back. "Just don't vomit on me, please."

I rested my chin on his shoulder and kept my eyes shut, my mouth close to his ear. "I've never been that drunk. I just need to lie down."

"You have also not drunk Lloyd's sleeping potion before. Rest assured; you will be vomiting tonight."

Archer maneuvered through the maze with ease. His steps were nimble, and he didn't so much as grunt with my extra weight added. He was definitely not a normal guy who cried like a big baby when he had to overexert himself in the name of chivalry.

"Do you have night vision or something?" I asked.

A low chuckle left his lips. "No. I've navigated these passages for years upon years. I could lose my sight and never get lost on any inch of this property."

"And exactly how many years would that be?"

"I've always been here. Always."

"Years, Archer. I'm not in a position to do math."

He released my legs, and the wall gave way. The light from the hallway flooded my sensitive eyes, but I could still make out the somber look on his face as he looked back at me and said, "Just over a hundred and fifty years."

I'd only been hanging onto him with my arms, and I let go in shock, landing on both feet but stumbling back against the wall. "Ex-excuse me? I know I'm a little boozy, but did you just say a hundred and fifty years? Like...the 1800s?"

"Maybe this is a better conversation for another time," he said, helping me upright and to my door.

I shook my head and pulled my key out of my pocket, taking too long to slide it in the lock. "Uh-uh-uh. You're coming in." I grabbed his hand and yanked him through the door, closing it behind us. "I need to lie down, but I also need you to tell me more," I said, leading him to my bedroom and collapsing onto the mattress. I patted the blanket next to me and wiggled my eyebrows. "Join me?"

Archer didn't say a word as he lowered himself to the mattress and crossed his arms over his abdomen. He stared at the ceiling, his eyes sweeping back and forth as he waited for my next question.

Ignoring the spinning sensation, I flipped to my side and bent my elbow, propping my head in my hand. "What's a Kabbel?"

"A cowbell?"

"You know, the people that took the other twins. The Koolads."

"The Kobold?"

I snapped my fingers and pointed at him. "That's it! The Kobold."

He raised his brows and slid his tongue over his teeth. "Legend has it that they are a type of sprite who like to take knickknacks and swap human children for their own."

I barked a laugh and sat up, my knees brushing against his thighs. "You say that like it's no big deal. I guess you don't believe they're real, huh?"

"Sprites—little green fairies with pixie dust? No."

"But couldn't they, like, take on some other forms or something? Like Transformers?"

He glanced at me from the corner of his eyes and smiled. Turning on to his side, he took my hand and placed it on his chest. "Do I feel like a Transformer to you?"

I slipped my fingers between the buttons on his shirt and gently scratched his skin. "Not at all." I swallowed and chewed my lip, not taking my hand from his chest before whispering, "Are you trying to tell me that's what you are?"

"I'm trying to tell you I'm here and very real." He guided my hand down his torso, over the waist of his jeans, and onto his very real erection.

All thoughts of Kobolds and drinks and ancient tomes flew from my brain, and I scooted toward him and slung one leg over his, squeezing him gently. "Well, well. It would seem you are," I whispered, gripping the front of his shirt with my free hand and pulling him up to face me. "What would you like me to do about that?" I breathed against his mouth before licking at his bottom lip.

"I can think of several things, but mostly I would like to see that pretty mouth of yours wrapped around me. But only if that's what you want."

I sat back on my heels and grinned, sliding my hand down to his waistband, unbuckling his belt in one fluid motion. "Yeah, that's what I want," I said, unbuttoning his jeans and sliding the zipper down. He lifted his hips toward me as I lowered his pants and boxers, a gasp escaping my lips at the size of him. If he really was a Kobold, well, at least I know they're well-endowed.

I leaned down, flipping my hair over my shoulder and took him in my left hand. Dipping my head closer to his lap, I closed my mouth over him, swirling my tongue around in smooth strokes. I added the motion of my left hand, sliding my right up his chest and gripping the fabric of his shirt.

My gaze travelled to his face, where he bit his lip while watching himself disappear into my mouth. His hand moved to the back of my head and he gathered my hair into his fist. A chill ran down my spine and ended in a delicious throbbing between my legs as he took control. The muscles in his stomach flexed and his hips joined the pace he set.

"Fuck, Gemma," he hissed. "That is so perfect...you're so perfect."

I pressed myself to his thigh, moaning against him as the friction between us flooded my nerve endings. I kept rhythm with his hips, my tongue gliding up and down the smooth skin, squeezing him firmly in my hand. I spiraled back to the tip, tasting the salty evidence of his desire, my eyes never leaving his.

Archer's breathing quickened as did the thrust of his hips. I nodded my head letting him know that it was all right for him to find his release. His jaw went slack, parting his lips and my name flowed from his mouth. Even when his fingers freed my hair, I showered him with my tongue for a moment longer until every muscle in his body sank into the mattress.

He took my hand and guided me up his body and into the crook of his arm. Kissing the top of my head, he said, "I've never felt anything like that before. Thank you."

It almost felt like the old trusty compliment of that was amazing. I wasn't familiar with an orgasm that wasn't amazing in one way or another. Wasn't that the point of them? But he also sounded genuine, like he had missed out on the greatness of oral pleasure.

"Not even in all your one hundred and fifty years, not one girl has made you feel that good?" I teased, laying my palm against his face and running my fingertips over his smooth skin, tracing his cheekbone with my thumb.

Archer looked down at me and the corner of his lips tilted up. "Absolutely nothing comes close to you, Gemma. Nothing."

My heart fluttered; his answer was perfect.

I snuggled against him, resting my head in the crook of his arm and gripping his shirt. "Don't leave, okay? I don't want to wake up alone."

"I promise; I'm not going anywhere."