Page 53 of Seized to Sacrifice
‘Different?’
He gave her a small smile. ‘I don’t usually have to worry about anyone but myself.’
She wrinkled her nose. ‘I hardly need coddling.’
‘I know. It’s just … without your memory and the other night— I worry about you.’
She canted her head, her expression unreadable.
There was a knock at the door.
‘The bath,’ he said, letting in two maids who began to pour streaming water into a small tub by the fire.
After they had filled it well, he gestured to it.
‘You first.’
She didn’t hesitate, unbuckled the oversized belt and stripping off her clothes, not seeming to care that he was present. He didn't mean to watch, but he found himself staring at each item as it fell to the floor.
He swallowed hard. She didn't seem to notice as she stepped into the round tub and sat down, letting out a small, contented sigh as the hot water warmed her.
‘So it will take three days to get to the Army?’ she asked.
Nyx nodded, grateful for the question to take his mind off what he wanted to do to her here and now when he’d promised himself he wouldn’t until the time was right.
‘Aye, they’re stuck in the south until the thaw.’
He hoped they wouldn’t have to take her to the north, which was crawling with Dark Realm creatures, he’d heard.
Not for the first time, he wondered what was going on. Portals collapsing, the Dark Realms encroaching on the Light. It had all begun so gradually, but whatever was happening was worse now. The quakes had been becoming more frequent as well, and he couldn’t help but think there was a connection. And then Elle had turned up in the Light Realm. It couldn’t be a coincidence, but she’d always been tight-lipped when it came to her own affairs. They’d only ever known what she’d wanted them to.
He didn’t say any of this though and she didn’t ask anything more, simply closing her eyes as she relaxed in the water before using the soap provided to wash as he tried not to watch her.
He lay on the bed, staring up at the ceiling as he waited for her, and it wasn’t long before she got to her feet, water sluicing down her body. His eyes traveled over her, her skin pink from the hot water. He longed to trail kisses down her slender throat to her ample breasts, move down to her narrow waist to lick her navel. He wanted to have his hands on her ample hips and thighs, knead them, slap her arse just enough to make her whimper for him.
Had it really only been yesterday that he’d brought her to pleasure so many times, making her come again and again until he’d exhausted her? It wasn’t enough.
He grinned and she noticed him watching, her expression becoming uncertain as he stood, crossing the room and grabbing a drying cloth from where it was warming by the fire. He wrapped it around her, hiding her body from him though he wished to do the opposite. He helped her from the tub, water dripping down her and making a puddle on the floor.
Turning away, he removed his clothes slowly, wondering if she was staring at him as he had been at her but resisted the urge to see for himself.
The water was still hot enough to make his cold feet tingle as he stepped into the bath, lowering himself into the cramped space that was much too small for him. Trying to get comfortable, he folded his body as much as he could and leaned back, resting his head on the wooden rim.
She was here. He was here. She was safe.
He cracked an eye to look at her. She was lying in the bed, her clothes still on the floor where she'd cast them off. How like her that was, he mused, smiling as he closed his eyes again and focused on the heat of the water seeping into his weary bones.
When he was finished in the bath he stood, grabbing another drying cloth and wrapping it around his waist. Now he felt her eyes on him though she was pretending to be asleep. How he wished he could simply cross the room and sink into her hot, wet center. He gritted his teeth and banished that pleasurable torment from his mind, picking up her clothes and putting them near the fire to be warm for the morning.
Not now, he said to himself again. Not here. When he took her, it would be after her memories had been returned to her, when she was herself again. He wanted her to remember him.
There was another knock at the door, and he padded across the room. Grabbing his knife from the table before he answered it, he kept his foot on the other side so no one could force their way in.
But it was a soaked Thorne awaiting him in the hall, his short hair plastered to his head and a scowl on his face. A pair of boots and a wrapped package were thrust at him.
‘Next time she wants some shopping done, don’t ask me. Do it your fucking self,’ he thundered, ‘or, still better, send the bitch out.’
He stomped off back to the stairs that led downstairs to the taproom where the bard was now singing some local ballad, the drunker patrons laughing and warbling along with him.
