Page 22 of Iron Crown

Maybe Cillian would be the artist that Eoghan couldn’t be… maybe that was in his future? Maybe… maybe…maybe…

I washed the dye from my hair, feeling the curly strands between my fingers. As black as midnight, now. It was the early morning, and Eoghan wasn’t back in bed. The cold of his absence was what had roused me from sleep, and when I could not find him in the usual rooms, I did this.

I dried my now black locks, twisting them into a towel over my head. I stared at myself, the bags under my eyes, my sullen skin.

How was Eoghan still infatuated with this face?

I couldn’t believe it. Not that I suspected that he would lie. But I just couldn’t understand it. Motherhood had not been kind to my appearance.

A knock on the bathroom door made me flinch.

“Come in,” I said quietly.

“You’re up early, Love.” Eoghan entered, wearing a suit as always.

“I couldn’t sleep,” I whispered.

“Hmm,” he said as he came to me, placing his nose at the crook of my neck, before running his hands over the towel that covered my body. “Is it about yesterday?”

Yes, and no.It was about his absence. But I couldn’t tell him that, even if he had no judgment in his voice. No expectation.

“No,” I answered honestly, but blurted out, “Where were you last night?”

He came behind me, wrapping his hands around my waist, lowering his head into the crook of my neck. He didn’t say anything about the smell of hair dye, or the stains on my skin where I hadn’t washed the color off. He didn’t mention the spots that had to be on the towel either.

“Hmm, with an advisor, discussing the war effort.” He kissed my neck, up my jaw, to the place behind my ear, sending a shudder through me.

Who the hell was his advisor? I suppose I could have asked, but the fact that he didn’t name them immediately made me suspicious.

“If it’s something that will affect my son, shouldn’t I be involved as well?” I tried to keep my voice as even and powerful as I wanted to be, but still. That bit of lingering insecurity made me sound less certain and more pleading.

Who spent all night with his advisor?

“Ourson,” he corrected quietly. “And not for these meetings, Love. But if you want to be involved with others, it can be arranged.”

“Why not this one? Who is it with?”

His hands tugged the towel loose from the knot at my breast, unraveling it to the floor. He stared at my image in the mirror as his hands traced my rounded lower abdomen to the deep, jagged scar below my belly.

“You are so…” He sucked air in through his teeth, his smile in the mirror growing. “Irresistible.”

I shrugged him off, prying myself from his grasp, to face him, refusing to be hypnotized by his words, his scent, his… everything. The way he had made my mind foggy at the beginning of our marriage would not weaken me again.

“Answer me—ah!” His hands were insistent, finding their way to the trim hair between my thighs before his fingers slipped inside my heated core. He kissed my neck, my shoulders. His free hand cupped my breast, pinching a hardening nipple, and I moaned, my needy body bucking against his masterful hand.

“It’ll be easier to know how to involve you, Muse, if you tell me how it is you’re able to shoot the way you do.” He threw his hand into my hair, unraveling the towel I wore like a turban. He fisted my newly blackened locks, tilting my head back, as he devoured my mouth.

My knees shook when his finger dipped inside me, curling to find that sweet, sensitive spot inside that made my body shiver. He caught me before I fell, turning me around to push my ass onto the vanity, pulling my knees apart to look directly at my pussy.

“My beautiful, sweet, secretive Muse.” He made it sound like a prayer.

He kissed down my chest, taking a breast into his mouth, and I moaned at his affection. I held onto him, my fingers in his hair, as my body responded to my husband’s ministrations.

That was his power over me. Not just his touch, his words, the way he made me dizzy with lust. It was the way he made me love him.

“Talk to me, Wife,” he whispered against my skin. “Unburden yourself to your husband.”

“I can’t tell you,” I whispered back, even though his touch made me want to give him everything,anything,as long as he swore to never let me go.

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