With a loud yawn and another grumbled meow, he rested his head against his paws and fell asleep.
My body shook with silent laughter at my cat’s antics.
“Thank you for finding him,” I said quietly to Rohak. He shot me a quick smile before laying the trays on the small wooden table in front of the couch.
They were filled with a variety of foods—hot stew and cold oatmeal, a clear-looking soup and a thick gravy, biscuits and cookies. It seemed Rohak grabbed one of everything.
“I—I wasn’t sure what you would be in the mood to eat, but figured you would be as hungry as I am, so I grabbed as much as I could without arousing suspicion.” He grabbed the back of his neck in a decidedly endearing gesture of embarrassment as his tanned cheeks pinked.
“Did anyone see you?” I asked as I leaned my head against my propped fist, both wanting to eat everything in sight and ask Rohak the question that was sitting on the tip of my tongue.
“There were a few servants in the kitchen”—Rohak grimaced—“I gestured for them to be silent, but it is only a matter of time before the whole of the Academy is pounding on my door.”
I hummed as I reached for the stew, dislodging a very disgruntled Cotton in the process.
Rohak set a dish of salmon on the floor, which seemed to mollify the cat, before sinking onto the cushion next to me, leaving an awkward distance between us.
I watched him settle into the couch—his spine stiff and straight, his movements disjointed. Laughing quietly at the memory of his very similar actions not long ago in a chair in his office, I grabbed one of the spoons from the tray and dug into the hearty stew balanced precariously on my lap.
Flavors burst across my tongue, and I moaned through the temperature of the meal. Rohak stiffened for a moment before putting his chin to his chest, gaze firmly focused on his food.
We ate in silence for a while, both of us too famished to start a conversation.
Once our bellies had been filled, and the food rapidly disappeared from the trays, I grabbed a cookie and pushed myself around to face Rohak.
“So,” I said through a bite of shortbread, my personality returning in full force now that I was fed and bathed, with my thoughts organized. “Did you stick your cock in me at some point while I slept? Because I can hear you in my head, which is something only the full Bonded couples can do.”
Chapter Eighteen
Rohak
Ihacked and coughed on the biscuit I’d just bitten, the dry bits of dough getting caught in my throat and lungs as my face flamed red, both from the sudden lack of oxygen and Faylinn’s crass comment.
Leave it to Faylinn to ask about sex in such a way.
One thin, manicured eyebrow rose slightly in question as she slowly munched on a cookie, crumbs escaping her mouth to land on her chest and legs. The yellow of the treat was such a sharp contrast to the black of my borrowed clothing that it momentarily distracted me enough to regain control of my bodily functions.
Still wheezing, I blindly reached for one of the glasses and drained it as quickly as possible. The cool water did wonders for my abused throat, but nothing for the flush creeping up my neck.
Faint amusement tickled the back of my mind, and I instantly recognized it as Faylinn’s. There was something light to it—an airiness that could never belong to me, but something my soul intrinsically tied to the Rune Master currently curled on my couch. While the Bond betrayed her humor, Faylinn’s face was as impassive as ever; her stoicism could rival even mine.
What a pair we make,I thought, before cursing internally at my inability to keep my thoughts to myself.
“Indeed, Rohak. What a pair we make,” Faylinn mused quietly as she brushed the wayward crumbs from her borrowed clothes. They bounced against the thin carpet that dominated the floor of my sitting space and were quickly devoured by Cotton, who lurked just beneath Faylinn, his whiskers coated with leftover salmon.
Sighing, I set the cup back on the decimated tray, the clink of glass against wood a loud bell toll in the silent and nearly empty space. Running a hand through my already disheveled hair, I angled my shoulders as I sat hunched over my knees so I could see Faylinn.
There was a vulnerability in her posture that looked completely out of place on the normally fierce, indestructible Rune Master. I’d seen many emotions war on Faylinn’s face before—anger, intrigue, desperation, frustration, even desire—but this uncertainty would be the death of me. She looked so small, so fragile, cloaked in the clothes that sat large and heavy on her wiry frame, her hair pulled into the linen cloth on her head. Faylinn’s heavily tattooed fingers picked at a stray thread on her pants as the other jumped every so often, as if wanting to reach for something—probably her journal—but something stayed her hand.
“Stop looking at me like that,” she croaked quietly, a faint blush coating her light-brown skin. How I wanted to see that blush everywhere but for an entirely different reason.
You did. That’s why we’re in this predicament to begin with,my mind unhelpfully supplied even as the thin golden filament pulsated in happiness at the memory of my cock slipping through her wet lips to find her center open and waiting for me. The traitorous appendage in question hardened and jumped at the memory.
“Looking at you how?” I husked, my voice betraying my desire.
Faylinn’s eyes flew wide as she detected the lust that wafted from me in waves. It was impossible to stop the tempest of my desire as it broke through the wall in my mind, as if it were nothing more than smoke. After living in scrupulous restraint and piety for so long, I didn’twantto withhold my desire for her.
I growled low in frustration.
