Mykie’s sleeping trends were abnormally scattered due to her drinking habits, and Faeryn being in Virylan only exacerbated both problems. Her colleagues adhered to strict daily routines of working from dusk to dawn, relaxing from their high-stress jobs during the morning, and sleeping until starset. No days off, of course. One didn’t go into this field for the work-life balance.
“Alright.” I forced myself to remain calm. I owed it to Faeryn to be supportive after everything she trusted me with. “I’ll tell her. Thank you.”
Mykie’s nose twitched. “The scent of your house is telling me I’m not welcome in right now.” She huffed out a laugh. “Who knew campfire could smell so clingy.”
“Anything else?” I raised a brow, growing impatient to return to the mated female sleeping upstairs.
“No, that’s it.” She began to turn on her heels before looking over her shoulder with a mischievous grin. “You didn’t singe her during it, right?”
I slammed the door on our interaction, giving her the exact response she fished for. What aninstigator. She only knew how to break the tension by poking my nerves. I locked the door, grabbed the overstuffed sack of outfits, and made my way back upstairs to my bedded love.
I was dismayed to find her sitting up, holding the blankets over her chest and rubbing her face. “Is everything okay?” she murmured drowsily.
“Mykie dropped off some clothing for you,” I replied, tossing the bag to the ground and crawling into bed to hold her once more.
I wrapped both arms around her shoulders, squeezing tight and falling to the side so she came toppling down with me into a fluffy landing. Her laughter was like a song, melting away all the tension Mykie had caused with herendearingly gratingpersonality. I wrapped a leg over Faeryn’s knees to pin her into my embrace, burying my face into her breasts and inhaling her sweet floral scent mixed with my smoke. Roasted honeysuckle smelled delicious. If it were up to me, she would always smell so freshly claimed.
She ran her fingers through my hair in soothing strokes. “I believe you promised me a bath this morning.”
“Why would you want that? You smell delightful,” I mumbled against her soft flesh.
Her sweet chuckle vibrated against my face. “Because I work in a few hours. You wouldn’t want every patron knowing about the things you did to me, would you?”
“And if I say I find the idea of everybody knowing you are mine appealing, would that change your mind?” The mark might add some additional protection, a threat that she is loved.
“No, it wouldn’t.” She patted my head. “Now get up.”
That was twice this morning I had been reluctantly called out of my cozy nest, but I tried not to pout. At least it was Faeryn commanding my movement. I watched as she slid to her feet and tiptoed out the doorway, the curves of her waist, ass, and upper thighs inviting me to follow and take a bite where she was juiciest. Once the bath water had been running for some time, I rose to join her.
“Graysen? Is everything ok?” she startled, one leg already in the warm water.
“I promised I would bathe you myself.” I walked to the tub, stepping in on the far end and sitting on the sturdy curve of its rim with my knees parted for her to rest between.
She scrunched her nose. “You aren’t going to get excited and make me dirty again, are you?”
The thought had occurred to me.
“I’ll be a perfect gentleman,” I promised, nodding my head for her to sink into the warm water. My legs would do a decent job of keeping it heated for longer.I should start joining her on all of these.
She settled chest deep, her breasts floating so that her nipples were barely under the surface. I tried to avert my eyes to manage my desire, shaking a dollop of soap out of a nearby glass bottle into my palm. I rubbed my hands together and dipped them into the water, pooling a soapy concoction into the cup of my fingers and carefully running it down her head so it wouldn’t get into her eyes.
“This reminds me of when you dyed my hair,” she hummed as my fingers massaged in the fragrant lather.
“The circumstances are more pleasant this time,” I responded, wringing the bubbles out of her charcoal gray waves before rinsing again.
“It feels just as nice as it did then.” Her pink lips lifted happily at the corners. “I think that was the moment I knew I was helplessly going to fall for you.”
I didn’t reply. My memories of that occasion were exclusively bitter. I had to be cruel, playing the role of captor and demanding she change her appearance if she wanted to be let out of the house. I wouldn’t take it back. I couldn’t. Nonetheless,I hated myself for it. That night was hell. I spent it fighting sobs, trying not to burn my bedroom down in a rage at what I was forced to do. In that moment, I’d decided I couldn’t love her properly and keep her safe at the same time. I had fully expected her to fear me, fight me, and run from me. Never had I allowed myself to think she may trust me, accept me, andcommitto me unconditionally.
“Mykie wants to know if you’d like to attend that get-together tomorrow at seven hundred.” I didn’t realize how big the lump in my throat had grown until I heard it choke my voice. I tried to disguise it with a cough.
“Oh, good, that’s still happening!” she cheered, kicking her feet around in the water with pure, childlike joy. “Yes of course! Are yousureyou don’t want to join? We can leave if the group is too much for you.” She remembered my feigned social anxiety used to excuse myself from the event.Of course she did, she’s always attentive to me.
I spread more soap into my hands and pressed them to the flesh of her chest, working it in circles. “I have some things to do around the house. You can tell me all about it after your shift.”
She hummed contentedly as I cleansed her upper body. I was smitten, taking the opportunity to worship every inch of her. The way her throat dipped between two fragile collarbones. The freckles sparsely dusting her shoulders. The webbing between each dainty finger. It was all so precious to me. I ran my hands under her breasts, where they created a teardrop shape, my arms submerging past the elbow as they made their way deeper.
“I think I should be the one to washlower.” She grabbed my wrist and began to pull it up. “It’s a far stretch for you.”
