Page 9 of Realm of Nightmares
“I want you.”
There was no guarantee he would answer, and Maeve didn’t wait for a response. She continued to work her clit, squeezing her eyes shut, relishing the way her body responded to her own strokes. Until a rumbling voice, thick with lust, answered her.
“Astora.”
Maeve’s eyes flew open.“Tiernan.”
“Do you miss me, moh Rienna?”
“Yes.”Her fingers dipped down further, slipping between the folds of her wetness, and a startled cry escaped her.“Very much.”
“In the darkest hours of the night, I grip my cock, and imagine you naked and swollen. Begging for me.”
Maeve moaned, grinding against her own hand.“Do you dream of me, my lord?”
“I dream of kissing you. Of licking you until you whimper. Of fucking you until you see stars.”
Her breath hitched and her heart pounded, the rapid beating like a drum in her ears. Her back arched as her movements grew frenzied. But it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t him.
“Tiernan…I can’t…”
“You can.”His deep voice echoed in her thoughts, growing distant.“I’ll bend you over, spread you wide. Shove my cock into you over and over until…”
She pressed her thumb to her clit, rubbing furiously, until a burst of ecstasy caused her knees to tremble. Her stomach clenched and she cried out, her head lolling back against the glass wall. Shoulders slumping, she heaved in a breath and withdrew her fingers.
“Until what?”she asked, desperate to hear all the delightfully wicked things he wanted to do to her.
But there was no response.
The reckless beating of her heart was the only sound to be heard. Their bond had gone silent once more.
Disappointed, yet filled with the smallest sense of relief, Maeve shut off the shower. She squeezed the excess water from her hair, then grabbed a towel, wrapping it around herself. Reaching over the small sink, she smeared one hand across the fogged mirror. Her skin was flushed, especially her cheeks, and the mark over her heart seemed to glow. There was that, at least. And the opal necklace she wore. Her only two connections to him.
With a sigh, Maeve stalked out of her bathroom and shrieked.
There was Rowan, stretched out upon her bed, with one heel kicked over the other. A book was splayed open in his lap, one she recognized as a romance with exceptionally explicit scenes. His lips curved into a knowing smirk.
“If you needed release,” he drawled, without even looking up at her, “all you had to do was ask.”
Maeve glowered at him, clutching her towel. “What are you doing here?”
He glanced up at her, his lavender gaze lingered on every inch of uncovered skin. “You were taking too long. I came to check on you.”
A likely excuse.
“Out.” She pointed toward the door. “Now.”
He tossed the book aside and laughed. “Get dressed and come downstairs, Princess. We have work to do.”
Humiliation heated through her. Not only had Tiernan coaxed her to orgasm through her thoughts, but Rowan hadlistenedto it. All of it. Or at the very least, he’d heardher. She waited until all the mortification had bled from her cheeks before finding something to wear. Opting for leggings, a crimson corset studded with rubies, and a black blouse that fell off both of her shoulders, Maeve dressed quickly. She grabbed her Aurastone from under her pillow and stomped down the spiral staircase after him.
Rowan was sprawled on one of the plush leather chairs with his arm slung over the back. He spared her a glance. “All better?”
Maeve ignored him.
He waved a hand dismissively toward the hearth and a fire instantly sparked to life, warming the library.
The space itself was two stories, floor-to-ceiling shelves displayed an assortment of books lining lofty walls. There were ancient texts covered in a fine layer of dust and tomes filled with histories, the ways of magic, and a rather extensive collection of romantic fairy tales, though many of them were darker in meaning than Maeve realized. It would make sense, of course. Obviously, the god of death favored the macabre.
