Page 65 of Fate

He laughed at her. A chuckle of breath and sound that warmed against her skin and did strange things to her stomach. Because she liked it. And it saddened her it was such a rarity. But if she dwelled on that, then she would lose the sensations again and...

“Then I must not have been attending to you properly, if you could think about something so mundane when I am attempting to pleasure you.”

She opened her mouth to apologise, because really, it hadn’t been him at all. And it couldn’t be her fault, either. She hadn’t known how distractible she could become, did not know thatevents of the day could not simply disappear just because... because...

His strokes became more purposeful, as if determined to push everything else from her mind.

And it was working. Or should have worked.

Except that she was suddenly nervous, as if she’d done something wrong by taking too long. When he should be sleeping—really, they both should, and she should stop him because this was selfish of her and there was always next time, and...

“You think I could sleep,” Lucian murmured, his breath warm against her ear, his lips soft as he kissed her neck, her shoulder. The curve of her upper arm. “When you were unsatisfied? I have my pride.” She shivered all over, because he was touching just the right spot, and retreating just when it grew too much, only to return before her skin had stopped thrumming, her belly had stopped tensing. “And I’ll not have my mate thinking me selfish. She already thinks me a deserter.”

Her mouth opened, and she meant it to be a denial, because shedidn’t,she just... she just got nervous, that was all. Wasn’t sure... that he...

He rolled her ever so slightly. Not quite on her side, but not quite on her stomach. And her wing was a little too squashed, but it changed the angle just so and he was covering her, but in ways he hadn’t before, and somehow that was what she needed.

Needed so she could...

It didn’t embarrass her. The gasp she made wasn’t disgraceful. The way she clutched at his arm and yes, even the hand that had given her this, it was all right, because he was still placing kisses along whatever skin he could find, and the bond was warm, and he was a good mate. That wouldn’t have been able to sleep while she was left wanting.

He let her move first. Didn’t pull himself free of her the moment her eyes opened and her body grew slack. Let her wriggle around so that she could kiss him properly, body languid.

He’d done that. Taken care of her.

“We can sleep now,” she murmured, perfectly content to snuggle into his side and do just that.

He snorted, but there was laughter at the edges of it, and so she didn’t mind when he kissed her once more and rolled to the edge of the bed.

Her mate liked to be clean, and she supposed there were worse traits.

She heard the dip of cloth into water. The trickle of liquid when he squeezed it out again.

She didn’t watch him. Did not stare to see him coax out his length so he could tend it properly. Did not watch as he soaped his hands and rinsed them clean again.

So it surprised her when he came back to her, a fresh cloth in his hands as he wiped at her, and she jumped at the coldness of it and she might have glared except she was met with a knowing look that stayed her. “Sacrifices,” Lucian reminded her. No hearth and tanks and taps that meant hot water for bathing afterwards.

So she bit her lip and let him wash her, and if there was a strangeness in that, a mortification she should feel at such attentions, it didn’t occur to her to feel them. Because it was tender with her. Gentle. In ways that harsh looks suggested that he wouldn’t be. But when he returned to bed, there was a sigh he made when he wrapped himself about her. Held her to him without her having to tug at him through the bond.

Because maybe he needed her, too. Needed her closeness, needed the feel of her. To make this unfamiliar place feel a little bit more like home.

Which was perfectly all right with her.

“I’m going to stop,” Firen murmured into the dark. He’d doused the last of the lamps, and the windows were shuttered tightly. “Leaving you,” she clarified. His hold on her tightened. “If I need to be outside, if I need to fly or to take a dip in the sea, or just... walk, I’ll tell you.” She swallowed. “Or you could come, sometimes. We could pace together. Until we feel better.”

He nuzzled into her neck, or maybe he was burying his face in her unbound hair. She could not tell. But she liked the feel of it. Liked being held, liked the rightness they’d found between them.

“Sleep,” Lucian commanded. “You can plan our next quarrel in the morning.”

It should not have made her smile. Should have provoked her guilt at how many times they’d managed to argue already.

But instead she closed her eyes and revelled in the feel of him, knowing he’d soon roll over to sleep properly on his side.

Although...

She had shimmied onto her own cot to make room for him.

And he’d come to find her.

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