CHAPTER THIRTEEN
MORGANA
“Hello, kitten.”
My throat went dry as I heard the click of my bedroom door closing. The bolt sliding into place. My heart was beating too quickly, sweat was beading on my forehead and neck, I was suddenly terrified I’d made a mistake.
A stranger was in my room with me. A stranger who knew my secret. A stranger I could not see.
“Shhh,” he said. “Don’t be afraid. I told you, I came to help you.”
“You also told me men lie.”
“And have I lied to you yet?”
I’d been trying to be strong. Trying not to cry from the pain, from the doom I felt from my vorakh. But now that someone was here, someone was speaking to me, soothing me, even if they had ill-intentions, it was enough for my guard to fall, my vulnerability to surface. I’d been acting strong for too many hours. I couldn’t do it anymore. I broke down, tears rolling down my face. Just because I wasn’t alone. Because a ghost of help had arrived.
It was so fucking stupid.
“No, kitten. No more tears. I’m going to take the pain away. I swear.”
He stepped closer, his face and form hidden in the shadows. A hand reached out and cupped my cheek, a calloused thumb stroking my skin.
I sniffled. “How? How do I make it stop? How do I stop the noise?” There were still so many thoughts in my head, pounding, invading. A sentry on duty. A soturion flying on ashvan. Another guarding the wall to the fortress. Everyone’s mind was whining incessantly. And loudly.
“Like this,” he thought.
He leaned toward me, and I reached out a hand, touching metal. Armor. A soturion. I reached for his shoulder, my arms shaking. He was taller than me, and my heart pounded even harder when I made contact. My body may have been innocent of another’s touch, but my mind wasn’t. I knew what we were doing. I knew what came next.
“You’ve never done this before,” he said, not in the way where I knew he’d heard my thoughts just then. But as if he’d known for a long time.
“No,” I confirmed.
“I’ll show you. Teach you. Then you won’t need me. You’ll be able to do this whenever you want, with anyone you want—whenever you need to.”
He leaned in, his breath against my cheek, and then his lips brushed mine. They were soft and full and left shivers running down my spine. I sighed. And he did it again, then pressed his mouth to mine, both hands cupping my face, wiping away my tears as his thumb stroked my cheek.
I kissed him back, liking the feel of him. And then emboldened, nibbled on his bottom lip.
We stayed like that a long time, taking turns slowly kissing the other, exploring as my breaths came faster, and our bodies pressed closer.
My heart kept pounding, louder and louder, first with a warning. Then excitement. Need. Fear. And then … desire.
Suddenly his mouth moved more frantically against mine, and his hands roamed lower, squeezing my ass, and pulling me into him. He removed any space that still existed between us and I was more than aware of his erection, pressing between my legs. I stifled a groan. I’d never truly felt one before. Not purposefully. And never … there. I could feel myself pulse in response.
“Go ahead,” he said, grinding into me. “Take your pleasure. Use me.”
I froze, suddenly self-consciously unsure what to do.
“You know what to do,” he purred. “I’ve heard you pleasure yourself at night. Many times.”
My cheeks reddened. I started to pull away. “No.”
“Kitten. You can use me, use me like you use your hands.” His voice in my mind was suddenly deeper, huskier, “I want you to.”
I closed my eyes, even though I couldn’t see anything. Even though he couldn’t see me.
“You spied on me? When I …”
