I shift, just barely, and a low sound rumbles in his chest—an approving purr that vibrates straight through me.
Oh gods.
Everything inside me clenches with immediate, aching need.
“Don’t start,” he murmurs against my hair, voice still rough with sleep. “You’re not fed yet.”
I almost laugh. Almost.
“Slade… I’m starving for something else entirely.”
His hand tightens on my hip in warning—a warning that sends another little shockwave through my core.
He presses his lips to the back of my shoulder, slow and deliberate. “I know, little witch.” His voice is velvet dipped in sin. “But if I touch you again right now, you won’t leave this bed for hours, and I need you walking for the tour.”
A whimper slips out before I can stop it.
A pleased, sinful sound vibrates in his throat. “Exactly.”
I turn slightly so I can see him. His hair is a wild, glorious mess across the pillow. His eyes are half-lidded, dark green and molten, the kind of look that promises everything and threatens my sanity.
“Come here,” he murmurs.
I shift onto my back, and he immediately rolls over me—not heavy, not demanding, just covering me like he’s making sure I’m still real. Histhigh slides between mine, and I swear my soul tries to leave my body.
He feels it, and grins like a demon who knows he owns me. “Later.”
“Cruel,” I whisper.
His mouth brushes my cheek, my jaw, the place just beneath my ear that makes my spine arch without permission. “Efficient,” he corrects. “And you need food. Water. Maybe a healing potion.”
I shove him lightly. “I’m not that wrecked.”
“You areabsolutelythat wrecked,” he says, leaning back enough to rake his eyes slowly down my naked body. “And you lookperfect.”
Heat floods my face, down my throat, between my legs. Slade groans under his breath like the sight alone is enough to undo him. He kisses me—slow, deep, maddeningly restrained—before finally pulling himself away and rising from the bed in one lazy, predatory stretch.
I watchshamelessly.
He notices within seconds. Slade smirks and offers me his hand. “Come. Bath. Food. Then I show you the realm.”
Our realm.
The realization flutters in my chest as he helps me stand, steadying me when my knees wobble.
“See?” he murmurs, amused. “You absolutely need the potion.”
I glare. He kisses my forehead in apology. Or condescension. Or both. Hard to tell.
He guides me through the screened archway into a bathing chamber carved from black stone veined with glowing gold. Steam curls lazily from the wide pool sunk into the floor, the water sparkling with suspended motes of magic. He lowers me in first, then sinks behind me, drawing me between his legs.
The warm water immediately soothes the delicious ache radiating through me. I melt against him with a soft sigh.
“That’s better,” he breathes into my ear.
“Mm. You just like having me trapped.”
“That too.”
