Was he drooling? I caught a glint around his mouth.
“It’s not chafing the outside of my thighs, Ward.”
That only sharpened his gaze. I cringed.
“You trusted me with a kiss. You can trust me with this.”
I didn’t want to. Impulse kisses were one thing. This was truly vulnerable. It would only leave the door open for criticism. That madcap kiss was going to haunt me. I couldn’t believe I did that. Salty sweat trickled over the burns, inflaming them further. My skin sizzled, and I couldn’t keep going at this rate. I’d failed before I even started.
“Fine!”
He scooped me off the road, and I dropped my pack to the ground. Just sliding it off me let the sweat cool on my back. A small hollow off to the side of the road shielded us enough that maybe the entirety of the Harrowlands wouldn't see my angry thighs. The scent of grass and flowers was calming at least and my muscles seemed happy we stopped. On his knees, Ward created a decent amount of shade I refused to act grateful for.
“Let me see, mate.” The rumble of his voice made my legs shake.
Heat flared in my cheeks. Mags got rid of this problem when she forced herself thin. When you wore braies or pantaloons every day, you didn't worry about your thighs chafing. I didn't particularly like being an unholy mess around the one guy who seemed determined to find me hot, but he kneeled there patiently like we had all the time in the world. It gave me the courage to gather up the ridiculous amount of fabric that made up my skirt and inch it up my legs, watching Ward’s expression for any signs of accusation or distaste.
Instead, his eyes latched onto my legs like I was doing the sexiest strip tease on earth. The private show just for him ended with my skirt around my hips. My noodle legs refused to do anything but fall open. Ward’s avid gaze didn’t seem to register that my lady bits were securely covered. He flexed his hands, face angry. My thighs must have looked as bad as they burned.
“You should have said something before, Evie. I can’t help if I don't know. Communication will be important on this quest and into our forever.”
Forever wasn't something in my plans. I guess I assumed he really would grow tired or exasperated with me and just leave me behind. The genuine care in his voice undid me. “I just wanted to keep up,” I mumbled.
“I’ll make it better,” he said.
Before I could think of a reason not to, he flattened himself on the ground and gave my right thigh a long, sensual lick. I would have jerked back if I had control of my legs and if it didn’t feel like a blessed splash of ice water on my skin. The yelp turned into a moan in the back of my throat. I bit my tongue to choke back any more sounds.
I willed my eyes not to roll back in my head and squeaked out, “This usually requires a wedding first.”
His next stroke glowed along my skin, bringing relief and tying my ovaries in knots. Anyone looking down at us would assume he settled between my legs for a meal. It didn’t matter that the last of my modesty remained preserved. All my panties were good for were catching the lady liquid flooding out of me. They didn't stop Ward from grumbling in pleasure with his next lick as he inhaled deep.
Dying from embarrassment wasn't possible when his tongue swept over me like my salvation. Precise, tantalizing strokes met at the juncture of my thighs, where he breathed heavily before licking down the other leg. Ward's magic was truly wonderful. His leashed lust, though, that was something else. The control he showed and the sounds he made frayed my sanity. I didn't trust he wouldn’t take advantage, but damn, every lap was incredible. I clung to my curious nature to keep my head above water.
“Do you have to lick my skin directly for this magic to make it better?”
So far I had never heard Ward utter a spell, and he never had a wand, so what did I know about how magic really worked? His eyes sure glowed amber, though. Whatever he did worked well enough. I gained control of my muscles again, like they had been massaged and pampered.
He gave me a sheepish look. I snapped my legs closed.
“WARD?!”
A few more swipes of his tongue on the top of my thigh before he sat up again.
“Do I have to? Or want to?” he asked.
The silence was deafening while I waited for his answer. I inched the skirt down, so I didn’t rip it completely off and throw myself at him—mates or no mates.
“You’re healed up in any case, and we can stop here for the night.”
He smirked at me. ‘Night’ was a generous interpretation of the time. He was definitely stopping for me, but Ward didn’t seem bothered. So we were just skipping our raging lust. Fine.
Ward walked further off the road and stopped at a flat area with a few trees. I was determined to be useful if we couldn’t get any further, so I took out the book on foraging I found in his keep. Foraging was just like collecting, and that I loved, so I figured it would be an interesting read. I kept him in sight as I searched the surrounding area for anything edible listed in the book. I gathered a surprising haul in my deep pockets, tucking rishi mushrooms, deep-purple berries and some sort of root called beggar’s buttons that the book assured me was edible. Ward busied himself being frighteningly competent at traveling on the open road—using his magic to guard the clearing, gather water, and build a fire ring. He patiently taught me and watched me start the fire at least twelve times. I expected him to grow impatient and take it away from me like everyone else did, but he lounged on the log he dragged over as though darkness and the cold weren’t fast approaching.
“You can do it,” Ward said.
I didn’t know why I flushed. He was only encouraging me without yelling at me. I struck the flint one more time, and the tinder sparked, letting me breathe on it until a little flame burst forth. I smiled back at Ward, whose hooded gaze held a spark as well. It made my heart beat faster and tied my tongue. With casual grace for such a large man, he stood. I should have felt afraid of him looming over me, but my mind only replayed his tongue against my skin.
“Let’s eat, mate.”
