“Then let’s go help downstairs,” she finally said.
“Again, not dressed for that occasion,” Cethin replied.
“Cethin, I need to do something,” she said in frustration, shaking out her hands. “Just…something.”
“You’re restless,” he said, understanding filling his features. “You’re high off the fight.”
“Yes. No. I think… I think it’s everything. The entire night,” she said, wanting to pace or move but forcing her feet to stay planted.
“I understand,” he said, finishing undoing his shirt buttons while he kept his eyes on her. “I can help. If you’ll let me.”
“How?”
“I’ve felt the same after high stakes battles. Your body is still on edge from the stress of fighting. Your nerves are heightened, and you need to release the pent up energy,” he said, sliding his shirt down his arms.
“Yes, all of that,” she murmured, watching the muscles in his arms bunch and flex with the movements.
He nodded. “And in the past, you’ve…done what?”
She didn’t answer, because how was she supposed to tell him she’d lose herself to her magic for hours, letting herself drift among ashes as the wind carried her wherever it willed until she felt like herself again? If she did that, she’d have to explain why that wasn’t an option.
“What haveyoudone in the past that worked?” she asked instead, watching deft fingers work his belt free and slide it from his waist.
He tossed it aside with the shirt. “There were several options. Sparring in the training arena with one of the Cadre. Finding a liquor bottle.” The heat was back in his eyes when he added, “Bringing someone to my bed.”
She tsked. “Fucking won’t help.”
“Another statement that has me questioning your experience with such things,” he said knowingly. “That kind of release absolutely helps.”
“I’ll opt for the liquor bottle rather than roaming hands,” she retorted.
“I wouldn’t even need my hands. I wouldn’t have to touch you at all.”
“What?” she asked before she could stop herself, because surely not…
His lips lifted, curling into something full of dark promises. “Curious, wife?”
“Yes,” she replied in genuine perplexity.
He barked a laugh, but his eyes darkened a shade. “You have to do exactly as I say,” he said, the words somehow both a command and a warning.
The idea of giving up that control, of someone else having control over her, had her shaking her head, her heart racing even more.
“You can stop at any time, Kailia,” he said, concern flickering among the heat and desire in his eyes. “I’m— I’ll stay over here the entire time. I swear it.”
Worrying her bottom lip, his gaze shot to the movement. His tongue darted out, and he shifted in place, but his feet stayed rooted to the spot. She shook out her hands again, feeling like she was going to do something incredibly brash any minute. Something that would undo everything she’d been carefully building. She was desperate, andhelooked desperate. Desperate to help her or desperate for her, she didn’t know. Because the only experience she had with fucking was because she’d been curious what all the fuss was about. It was never something she’d ever had any desire to do again, but if he wasn’t going to touch her then… And what if this was like the kiss? Something unexpectedly wanted?
“You’re thinking too hard, tiny fiend,” he said. “Do you need a vow? A bargain? Let me show you. Let me— Just let me.”
Again, she had this odd feeling. The same feeling she’d had when he’d been on his knees and she’d been in a tub. Only this time a king was begging, not to touch her or for her to touch him, but to…what?
“You’ll stay over there?” she asked, shaking her hands out again before fisting the soft fabric draped around her.
“I won’t come any closer. I swear it. And if you want to stop, we stop,” he coaxed.
A few seconds passed, the air heavy with tension and anticipation. Finally, she nodded, and there was a flash of relief in Cethin’s eyes before it flickered back to something darker and sinful and eager. Because suddenly the restless wild thing she was feeling inside? He was displaying it on the outside withdilated pupils and a vibrating energy that had him constantly shifting in place.
“Climb onto the bed, wife.”
