Page 41 of Sons of Sorrow
“Hey, don’t you sass me, you little liar.” I pointed at his trousers. “Look at these scorch marks. Are you going to tell me you weren’t getting busy yourself? Your pants were literally on fire.”
“Those were — those were from the Oriel of Fire.” Satchel turned bright red, his cheeks puffing up as he fluttered into the air. “I would give you such a thorough collarbone-kicking if Ember wasn’t already waiting for me.”
Hah. Caught him. Satchel flew out of our bedchambers in a huff. I chuckled as I pushed the door shut, just as Sylvain poked his head past the doorway to the bathroom.
“What were you tormenting poor Satchel about this time, little human? Was it his consumption of sugar? I promise, I haven’t been sneaking him extra sweets.”
I laughed, shaking my head at the image of Satchel as a squawky little parrot in constant need of snacks. Which he sort of was, come to think of it.
“No, actually. I was teasing him about what appears to be blossoming between him and Ember. Love is in the air.”
Sylvain chuckled. “And in the water, too. It’s been seven years since Satchel has engaged in any sort of debauchery. Let him be, Lochlann. Come. Let’s take a bath together.”
Oh. I hadn’t noticed that the water had stopped running. The thought of a hot, bubbly bath was too tempting to resist. I deserved one after all that battling in the oriel. Sylvain deserved one, too. We would fit, no problem. The Wispwood bathtubs were surprisingly spacious.
And didn’t I more or less kick Satchel out of our bedchambers for a reason?
“You don’t have to ask me twice,” I said, fingers flying to the zipper of my pants as I skittered excitedly into the bathroom. Sylvain made way for me in the doorframe and laughed.
The air was humid and hot, like a jungle in there, especially with the fronds of the potted plants that came with the room. Miraculously I’d managed to keep all of them alive since moving into the Wispwood all those years ago.
Tonight I eyed them suspiciously, watching for any signs of motion. Sylvain had performed some truly awful, heinous, and entirely too pleasurable things to my body with the plant in his own bedchambers, but too much of a good thing, you know?
“Not to worry, little human,” Sylvain purred, stepping up behind me, hitching his fingers under my tunic. “It’s only you and me tonight. Unless?”
I shook my head vigorously. “No. No ‘unless.’ I admit, I had a mind-blowing time, but you really wore me out that night. Let’s just take a bath this time.”
Sylvain gave a low, disappointed whine as he pulled the tunic up over my head, mussing up my hair. “Just a bath? Truly just a bath, and nothing more?”
I turned around, grinning into his face even as I hooked my fingers into the waistband of his sweatpants. “You know what I mean. Now get these off, and get in the tub.”
He eagerly complied, even helping me by stepping out of his sweatpants as I pulled. Getting a face full of his cock was a tantalizing bonus, sort of a foretaste, only without the taste. I bit on the inside of my cheek, watching it flop ludicrously about as he approached the tub, observing the perfection of his ass as he clambered in.
Gods, I’d really lucked out on this ridiculous specimen of a man.
Out there by the breakfast table, hearing the thunder of bathwater, I might have considered the possibility of a long soak, a nice scrub, instead of any real erotic activity. But watching the thickness of Sylvain’s thighs as he sank into the water, the flex and bulge of his arms as he lowered himself into place — gods above and below.
“Well?” he asked, cupping handfuls of water to drip over his chest. “Are you only going to stand there and ogle me?”
My teeth clicked as I clenched my mouth shut. I couldn’t help gawking, okay? I dipped my toes in the water — hot, brisk, invigorating — then my calves. Supporting myself on the sides of the tub, I went in, letting out an unintentional moan as the glorious warmth washed over my skin, penetrated my muscles.
I leaned back, closed my eyes, and sighed, stretching out my legs. My foot brushed against something that was most certainly not the bottom of the tub. The water shifted as Sylvain chuckled, then groaned.
“Careful how you handle those,” he said, a smile in his voice. “You have your precious jewels, and I have mine.”
I drew my foot back, afraid of sending him the wrong signal about his balls. Water sloshed as I sat up and pressed against my end of the tub. I opened my eyes and my mouth, about to make some excuse, but the sight of the bathtub stopped me cold.
Flowers. So many, many flowers, floating on the surface of the water. Sylvain had filled the tub almost to the brim. Somehow I never noticed them manifesting, but I definitely cherished their presence now. The velvet softness of petals, the mingled floral fragrances.
“Like the first time, oh summoner,” Sylvain said. “Do you remember?”
“How could I forget?” I breathed.
I glanced down at the flowers, noticing my chest flushing red. That wasn’t from the heat of the water, either. Our very first adventure together, back in the Oriel of Earth. We found a pool of water in the dimension’s great forests. We went in for a soak, but ended up with far more than we bargained for.
We’d hated each other on sight, back when I accidentally summoned Sylvain with the Pact of the Unknown. How far we’d come, and how much we’d seen and learned in spite of all our banter and bickering. But one thing remained unchanged. I was as attracted to him as the day we first met.
Sylvain motioned with his wrist. Petals dislodged from some of the flowers, rising into the air in a spiral, gathering in my hair. I stared down at the water, glimpsing my reflection. Again he’d turned the petals into my own crown, a circlet of flowers.
