I bite back a laugh at her prudish response. “I’m showing you my cock, Aspeth. We’re going to have sex in a few weeks. I think we have to get comfortable with personal questions.”
She chews on her lip, staring up at me thoughtfully. “Are you aroused?” Her voice is soft, husky. “Right now?”
My cock twitches in response. “Yes.”
“Because you just bathed me?”
“Because you’re staring at my cock and I’m thinking about fucking you,” I admit. “Because I’m thinking about touching your body.” I’m thinking about her thick, solid thighs and the softness of her belly. I’m thinking about the heavy weight of her breasts and how they’d feel in my hand. How they’d move in time to each thrust I make inside her. “I can’t help but think about touching you.”
Her hand goes to her throat, her eyes soft, her cheeks pink. She wets her lips, gazing up at me. “Do you need to see me? All of me?” She gestures at the cradle of her thighs.
I don’t need to. But by the five hells, I’d love to—
Before I can answer, something crashes in the hall outside and thumps down the stairs.
Aspeth jerks in surprise, clutching the towel to her body, and I hastily shove my cock back into my pants. “What was that?” she asks. “An intruder?”
A dish crashes to the floor, followed by a curse, and I wince, shaking my head. “No, I suspect that’s Magpie.”
My new wife brightens. Her fingers go to her mouth and she bites on her thumb’s cuticle. “Oh, I’ve been waiting to meet her. How do I look?”
Like I’m about to fuck you, I want to tell her, but I know the moment is gone. I bite back a sigh of irritation and hold a cloak out to her. “You’re wearing a towel.”
“Right.” She tosses the cloak around her shoulders and gives a girlish giggle, moving to my side and grabbing my arm. “Will you introduce us?”
Oh gods. I could tell her that she doesn’t truly want to meet Magpie. That she shouldn’t meet her hero. That it’s only going to break her heart. But I can’t avoid this forever. With an agitated tug on my nose ring, I nod. “Fine. Come on.”
It’s only a few steps down the hall to the kitchen of the house, but each step is incredibly uncomfortable. My cock is throbbing and stiff and shows no signs of receding. I’m glad that Aspeth’s too distracted to grab a candle because the last thing I want is for Magpie to see just how aroused I am. I haven’t yet told her that I married one of our students, and I’m not looking forward to that conversation.
There’s another crash of pans in the kitchen, and when we enter, I see Magpie bent over, digging through one of the larders, knocking dried onions and a wheel of cheese to the ground. A lone candle flickers on the table nearby, providing just enough light for me to see my boss’s disheveled appearance. She’s wearing a guild uniform, but it’s so wrinkled and filthy that I know it’s the same one she’d been wearing the last time we talked. A quick glance over at my side shows Aspeth’s excitement giving way to confusion.
Hells. I clear my throat.
Magpie turns to face us, her hair a tangled mess around her head. Her gaze flicks to me, the woman on my arm, and then back to me. “Where’s the brew?”
“I had it removed from the house. You should go to bed, Magpie.”
She scowls at me and turns back to the larder. “I had a stash here.”
“Yes, and I removed that, too,” I say calmly. “You said you’d stop drinking.”
“Tomorrow,” she promises, and shoves aside a row of jars, nearly knocking them to the floor.
I glance at Aspeth. Her grip on my arm is tight, her face bright as she regards Magpie. “Madam,” she calls out, and then her smile grows broad. “It is such an honor. I’ve dreamed of meeting you for years. You’re the reason I’ve come to Vastwarren. You’re the inspiration that’s made me determined to join the guild. You…you’re a legend.” Aspeth’s voice grows hushed with awe. “And it is a joy to be one of your students.”
I roll my eyes.
“One ofmystudents?” Magpie turns, squinting. She seems to notice Aspeth for the first time and then saunters over, weaving in a way that leaves no doubt she’s been hitting the bottle hard. No matter how many times I hide the liquor, she somehow finds more. She looks Aspeth up and down, frowning. “I don’t know you.”
“My name is Sparrow—”
Magpie barks a laugh in her face, the sound rude and affronting, and my entire spine tightens with the urge to grab Magpie by the arm and march her to bed like a naughty child. “That’s not your name, fool,” Magpie laughs, spit flying as she announces this. “You ain’t got that name yet. And you ain’t my student.”
“Yes, she is,” I say quietly. “She’s one of your fledglings this year, along with Lark.”
Her expression contorts, and for a moment, I think she’s going to apologize.
Instead, Magpie leans forward and vomits at Aspeth’s feet.