Her shoulders are tense. Something's wrong. Not the ribs. Something else. Someone—
Malik. Across the table. Staring at her.
His eyes track from her face to her throat to her chest and back up.
"Malik."
He looks up.
"Stop looking at her."
The room goes quiet.
"I was just—"
"You look at her again and I take your eyes." Low. Simple. "Nod if you understand."
He nods. His throat working. Good.
The meeting continues. Renan talking about fortifications. Varn talking about trade routes. I don't hear any of it.
She shifted in her chair. Her shoulder is brushing my knuckles now. Skin. Warmth. The fabric of her dress between my hand and her body.
I could slide my hand down. Over her shoulder. Down her arm.
She probably wouldn't stop me. Not here. Not in front of everyone. She'd go still and let me touch her because that's what she's learned to do when powerful men want something.
The thought makes my stomach turn. Makes my cock harder.
Fucked up. I'm so fucked up.
"—Koshin?" Renan's voice. Sharp. "The western access points."
"What about them."
"Do you want to fortify them or leave them as contingency escape routes?"
I don't care about the western access points. Iowyn's breathing has gone shallow again and she keeps shifting her weight and her ribs are hurting her and there are eleven other people in this room who could look at her—
"Fortify them."
"That cuts off our secondary retreat path."
"Then don't fortify them."
"Which is it?"
"Whichever one makes this end faster."
Renan's mouth twitches. Not annoyance. Worse. He's enjoying this. "You've been staring at the back of her head for ten minutes. I'm not judging. I'm just saying—pick one so we can wrap this up before you start plucking eye’s."
The elite go very still.
"I'm not going to—"
"You're gripping the chair hard enough to crack wood."
I look down. He's right. I release my fingers. The chair has dents now. "...I wasn't going to pluck anyone's eyes."
