He gave me this odd, grateful smile and got in opposite me. It was less uncozy than I thought it would be. I could feel his body heat against my skin and I could stare creepily at him, which was definitely a bonus.
He quirked a brow. “I can hear the sea.”
“It’s nice, isn’t it? You can see it too.” I gestured vaguely at the little arched window beside us. “And in the mornings you can watch the sunrise. Assuming you’re up in time, which I’m generally not.”
A yawn came out of nowhere, as if my point needed illustrating, and I cuddled down into the covers. Turned my face to the window so I could watch the ripples of shadow that were the distant waves.
Sleep danced at the edges of my brain but wouldn’t come any closer. Not with Caspian temptingly near.
I rolled onto my back again and wriggled my toes against the edge of his knee. “I feel like we’re having a sleepover or something. We should play spin the bottle or Truth or Da—”
The end of that sentence vanished into a hastily swallowed gasp as Caspian’s hand closed around my foot, strong and warm, the skin of his palm very smooth. He pressed his thumbs into an exquisitely tender spot beneath my toes and my spine arched like a crochet hoop.
“Hazel said no debauching,” I squeaked.
“No, she said any debauching should be transacted quietly.” He followed the curve of my foot, squeezing away tension I didn’t even know was there, making me groan with helpless pleasure. And then, when I was all languid, my foot his willing slave, he brushed his fingertip down the arch so lightly that it induced a full-blown, full-body shiver attack.
I made a noise like “Nngh.”
“Are you ticklish, Arden?” God, he sounded so…so wicked when he said it.
I writhed ridiculously, unable to stay still but not wanting to pull away. “No. Yes. Okay, yes, I’m ticklish. Wah!”
His thumbnail scraped against my sole and it was awful and lovely at the same time. Sensation like a tequila shot, pure and bright and cold, somewhere between pleasure and pain. It made me want to squirm and surrender and fight it and ride it all at the same time. And I had to clap a hand over my mouth to stifle whatever unraveled sound was going to spill right out of me.
“Do you want me to stop?”
“No.” I threw back my head, the brush of air across my exposed throat as tantalizing as his fingers against my toes.
But he stopped anyway. Which was, well, epically nonideal.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, trying not to whine.
“Nothing. Just…” He’d gone gratifyingly growly. “The things I want to do to you.”
Well, now I was wide awake. “Like what?”
“Tie you to my bed and—”
“How?” I hadn’t meant to interrupt but the idea was sufficiently enticing that greed got the better of me.
He laughed—the sound so free, his nails still dancing torturously across the tenderest places of my feet.
I could barely breathe for feeling. The exquisite paradox of being indulged and maddened. “I need details!”
“In an X. Every part of you exposed and at my mercy.”
I swallowed an eager whimper. I could imagine it so well I could practically feel it. The warm pressure of whatever cuffs or ties he wanted to use on me. The way his gaze would strip me deeper still. How gloriously helpless I would be for him. God, oh God. Now I was indulged and maddened and as hard as advanced calculus. “And then”—the words were sticking to my dry mouth—“you’ll tickle me?”
He nodded, glancing away. Embarrassed maybe? As much revealed as I was.
Except I would never leave him alone in desire. “Please do that. I’d love it.”
He nodded again. And just when I thought I’d lost him, he murmured, “I’ll have Bellerose add it to my schedule.”
“That’s not funny.”
Laughing, I kicked out playfully with my foot, which made him laugh, too, and drag me down the bed. We tussled as quietly as we could, muffling giggles in each other’s skin, until we were just embracing, tangled up together. Caspian’s hands swept up my spine, bringing heat and a hint of possession. And I gasped, shamelessly eager to be touched and claimed. Full of this unexpected gratitude. I hadn’t realized just how empty he’d left me. How much I’d ached for roughness and for tenderness and for him.
