Page 111 of Sunder

He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “You can do whatever you like.”

Which should not have pleased her so, yet it did. Because he meant it. Whatever made her happy, that was fine with him. She would not abuse such power, of course. Wouldn’t wheedle or ask for anything too extravagant. But the idea of a hearth in their bedroom wasn’t a bad one, and what did he do for heat in the coldest months?

“Now,” Athan moved, which was not at all what she wanted. Most especially when it felt very much like he was trying to get up. “Wash separately or together?”

Orma blinked at him, still trying to keep him in place as her pillow. “We washed before bed,” she reminded him, in case their activities had addled his mind and he’d truly forgotten.

“We did,” he agreed. “And then we did not sleep.” She had. For quite a while. He’d been the one to abandon her.

She glanced down at herself, trying to catch his point. Some of the warm feelings were diminishing, and she was more aware of the cold pricking at her skin, of the sticky feeling between her legs.

“Oh.”

It was Athan’s turn to chuckle as he helped her to her feet. “I choose together,” he added with a smile, and waited for her to give an objection.

She did not have one to give.

Just took his hand and let him move them to the washroom. Tried not to cross her arms and feel strange as she waited for him to tend the light. A proper moonstone lamp would be good for this room. That way, when she scuttled down the hall in the dark, she would not be met with inky darkness.

When the wick caught and warm light cast eerie shadows across the washroom walls, Orma swallowed thickly. She’d ask for a lamp when she was certain it wouldn’t overtax his income. She’d even ask to attend the market with him so she might know who crafted such things.

She would mention how agreeable something to nibble would be. And a fresh nightdress, and if he wasn’t too cold, how she would not mind if he forewent a nightshirt. She did so like the feel of his skin...

But for the moment, she stepped nearer to him and wrapped her arms about him. It was strange to need an embrace so acutely when they’d just shared so much, but perhaps that was part of the reason.

“What’s this for?” Athan asked, returning her embrace and tightening his hold when she did the same.

“Just because,” she mumbled into his skin, and she probably should offer more of an explanation. Should try to sort out this sudden urge for affection. To hold and be held. To keep him close and hers for as long as she possibly could.

He hummed. Then purred, the sound pleasant and soothing beneath her ear.

She shut her eyes and let the contentment fill her.

Let him shudder. Let him murmur his thanks for trusting him. For loving him.

She would like to say it had been easy, but it hadn’t been. But perhaps...

Perhaps that was all right. Because now it had been forged with experience rather than faith in the bond alone. That she knew him, and he knew her.

There was more to go, of that she was certain. But it was a start. And a rather lovely one.

“I’m going to learn to cook,” Orma whispered, more to herself than to him. Then turned her head and offered a sheepish look upward. “Would you help me?”

And his smile was bright, and his pride in her was brighter still. “It would be my pleasure.”

And she certainly would not tell anyone, but she let him wash her. And she even mustered some of her courage and washed him in turn, a rather strange process that included having to prod out his appendage when she hadn’t needed to before, and Athan was gracious in her nerves, and he did not even make fun of the way she poked at him while she did it.

And when he picked her up again and took her back to their bed, it did not feel like when she was little and too weak to do it herself. It felt like... like a man who loved his mate. Who wanted to keep her as close as he possibly could. To make sure shewas warm and comfortable when he eased back the covers and pulled them over her. When he removed the topmost where they had loved and replaced it with another from his trunk before easing in beside her.

She didn’t mention a moonstone lamp, or a nibble before bed after all.

Instead, she let him pull her into his side. Let him curl about her and whisper how much he loved her, and some of those warm, intoxicating feelings returned. Not insistent and urgent to be fulfilled, but a reminder of what had been. What would be. When she wasn’t so tired, and he had not made commitments to patients the next day.

But that was all right. Just knowing there would be other times.

She forgot the nightdress.

And that was all right, too.

---