Page 16 of Courting the King of Cliffs

A few knocks sounded at the door, and I sat up quickly, grogginess making me wonder who it might be.

My head didn’t ache, and any effects of the alcohol were gone; my body had taken care of it while I slept. I was really damn tired and groggy though, as one tended to be after drinking more than they were used to in Bluhm.

At least we didn’t feel sick, like humans did after drinking sometimes.

The door opened on its own.

It must’ve been Granite.

“Dissiri?” his gorgeous, gruff voice called out.

He would’ve had to focus a little to feel me in the bed, since it wasn’t made out of stone, but it was definitely doable. So, I didn’t bother replying.

When he strode into the bedroom a moment later, he proved me right.

And froze just inside the doorway, his eyes glued to my figure.

“Fuck,” he whispered. The tone of it gave me goosebumps.

“What? I was sleeping.” I looked down at myself, and didn’t see a problem—but then did a double-take.

Yeah, I was naked.

And my hair was still up in a bun, so nothing above my waist was covered.

He unfroze enough to drop a dress on the ground for me, then stepped back out, slamming the door behind him.

I tried not to be offended by his clear aversion to my nudity—or self-conscious about it—but failed.

Dropping my head back to the pillow, I groaned silently.

I never should’ve ordered those damn drinks.

Part of me itched to just transport right back home, avoiding the coming conversation entirely. But enough of me realized that was the coward’s way out, so I stayed.

Slipping out of bed, I padded over to the dress and picked it up off the ground. It was a soft red color, almost a rosy pink. I’d never worn the earth fae’s colors before, despite being one of them.

Honestly, I loved the shade.

After I slipped it on, I stepped into the bathroom to look at myself in the mirror.

It was beautiful.

I looked fine in wind fae colors, but something about the earth fae ones just made me look… alive.

Storing that thought away for later, I made my way out of the bedroom.

Granite was sitting stiffly on the couch, waiting for me with his jaw and fists clenched.

He looked even hotter than I remembered, somehow.

And damn, he smelled good.

“They’re just breasts,” I said, before he could growl at me or something. “I don’t know why they made you so mad. Literally all women have breasts, and mine might not be huge, or perfect, and the left one is slightly bigger than the right one, but they’re not hideous enough for the offense you seem to be feeling. I—”

“They’re not just breasts,” he growled at me. “They’re your breasts.”

“Do you sleep in your clothes?" I countered.

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