My stomach growls enthusiastically, and a small smile sneaks across Curio’s face before he schools his features and looks over at me. Our gazes connect, and I realize immediately that I’ve made it obvious that I was just staring at him. His hickory-brown eyes glint with mirth, and I’m all at once certain that my morning ritual of appreciation hasn’t gone as unnoticed as I thought it had.
“I could set time by your stomach,” Curio teases, his voice gruff and gravelly like it always is first thing in the morning.
My stomach grumbles again as though it’s daring Curio to do just that. Ignoring both it and the Scorpion whose eyes are tracing the lines of my legs as I get up, I tug my tunic down and make my way to the washroom. I wish I was as unaffected as I pretend to be by the way Curio’s gaze follows me as I go, but the way my heart picks up and the touch of extra hip I put into my stride leaves me with absolutely no denial to hide behind. I close the washroom door and then stare into the mirror, both judging and appreciating the fae that stares back at me. I’m ignoring every inclination I have that’s encouraging me to do anything about the way the Scorpions hunt me with their eyes whenever I’m in the same room. The way my mere presence seem to reel them in so effortlessly is a heady thing to experience, and it never gets old.
I wash up and then curse myself for not bringing a change of clothes in here with me. I was too flustered and in a hurry to make my escape after my stomach got me caught practically drooling over Curio. I’m sure he’ll enjoy when I have to go back out there and face him with nothing on but his damn tunic. I’m sure the fact that I still wear the long black tops at night instead of the sleep dresses Eacon has brought me isn’t lost on him either.
I could easily explain that I don’t like things tangling around my legs at night because I’m used to sleeping in thin worn garments that were barely more than a few threads that refused to give in, but it’s a weak argument even to my ears. Curio doesn’t seem to mind that I’m going through his wardrobe faster than he is. We both keep our mouths shut on the matter and go about our business.
Inhaling deeply, I prepare myself to face the Scorpion once again, and I pull open the washroom door, striding confidently out. I freeze at the sight of Curio partially bent over as he pulls leathers up his corded calves and thick thighs. His round bare ass practically stares me in the face, and for some reason, my mouth starts to water. The muscles in the globes of his cheeks flex, and I’m so distracted by that and the sack just barely visible between his thighs as he straightens that I don’t notice he’s now watching me over his shoulder.
Before I can get a hold of myself and find somewhere else in the room to focus on, Curio turns around and blatantly offers me an unobstructed view of the front of him. The smile on his face is salacious and proud, and I’m reminded of the arrogant Skull I met that first night in their tent at the ludere. The way he stripped down and sank into the steaming golden tub as though worthy of worship and admiration slaps me out of my stupor. He looks exactly the same way now, only I can’t find it in me to disagree. I snap my eyes from his long thick cock up to his entertained brown eyes and do everything I can to banish any heat or appreciation from my stare.
Brazenly, Curio simply watches me as he tucks his hardening dick into his leathers and slowly laces them closed. I’m immediately struck by all the times I pulled trousers from the drawers of the armoire behind him. Did he wear any of those without undergarments too? I don’t know if I’m disturbed by that or turned on. Curio doesn’t immediately reach for his shirt, and I suddenly question whether or not I want to yell at him to put it on or beg for him not to. We both stand there, staring at each other from across the room as something starts to build.
Curio’s stare slowly morphs from playful and teasing to banked heat and stoked fervor. Warmth pools low in my belly, and it’s all I can do not to fidget or clench my thighs with anticipation. I open my mouth to say something—I have no idea what—when a knock sounds at the door. Both of our heads snap in the direction of the intrusive sound, the building spell between us collapsing like a buckling knee that’s been kicked from behind.
“Enter,” Curio calls out, and I swear I hear a tinge of frustration and threat in the barked invitation.
The door opens and Eacon steps through donning a wide warm smile. She has a pile of clothes stacked in her hands, and her grin grows even wider when her azure blue eyes land on me.
“Oh good, you’re up,” she declares cheerfully, stepping more fully into the room.
Her smile falters slightly when she turns to find Curio. Eacon’s gaze bounces between us, and it’s clear that she knows she’s just walked in on something. However, what that something was is a mystery to all of us. Or maybe not, judging by the sly gleam that enters Eacon’s eyes. She clears her throat, and it almost sounds like she’s covering up a small giggle.
“I brought you some more togs, Auset,” she offers, extending her hands and the pile of fabric folded neatly there. “Some more trousers and chest wraps since the last ones were getting tight.”
With a bashful smile, I take the stack of linens and leathers from her. “Thank you, my ass especially appreciates it,” I joke stiffly, but Eacon takes mercy and laughs lightly.
I feel bad that I already need new items since it’s only been a little while since she brought me the first few stacks, but eating whenever I want while training hard every day is rapidly impacting my body. I’m filling out and hardening in places that I never have before, and I love it. I feel strong and healthy, and Eacon’s been amazing at making sure I have what I need to be as comfortable as possible. She dotes in a way that makes a person feel precious and treasured, and I can see how she wielded that magic to bring the Scorpions together all those years ago.
“I was hoping you’d have a moment to chat, Auset, but if you’re busy, I can come back later,” Eacon states, looking from me to Curio and back again.
Ignoring the twinkle in her eye as she studies me, I shake my head and smile at her. “You’re fine, I was just about to get dressed and head down for breakfast.”
Pointedly, I look over at Curio, daring him to argue. After a beat, he gets the hint and grabs a black tunic from behind him.
“I’ll just see myself out…ofmyroom,” Curio grumbles, scooping up a pair of boots as he leaves. “Stay out of trouble,” he warns, eyeing Eacon purposefully.
Eacon laughs lightly as Curio saunters down the corridor and out of sight. I make quick work of the new togs. Everything fits perfectly, and I marvel at the colors. My tunic is a deep red that almost leans purple, and my leather pants are a dark blue gray, a color that reminds me of the sea outside when it’s stormy and churning. There are rich yellow tops and soft blues. I’m drawn to one that’s a gray so light it could rival my eyes, and trousers in different decadent dark colors. Everything is so soft and lush it all feels more like skin than clothing. I’ve never had so much in my life, and I wish I had better words for Eacon than the inadequatethank youI always offer her.
“I’m so glad Tarek guessed the right measurements. If he weren’t so good at killing, he’d have a career as a tailor for sure,” Eacon jokes, and I smile.
“It is strange that he always gets it right,” I agree, ignoring the warm sensation that moves down my breastbone at the thought of him knowing my body in such an intimate way and yet not.
“He always has been attentive to detail,” she observes, and I notice for the first time that Eacon isn’t wearing the long gray dress I normally see her in.
Today, Eacon’s abandoned the drab frock in favor of her own tunic and trousers, both the color of lush garnet. The bright white streaks in her hair stand out even more against the darker smoky-gray of the rest of her strands, which have been pulled back and plaited tightly at her nape. She looks ready for something. What, I couldn’t say.
Quickly I plait my own hair until it falls over one shoulder. Thank the realms, Wilik isn’t an issue anymore; she’d cane my hands for the hasty job and then threaten to shear all my locks if she saw the state of me right now.
“Let’s talk as we head downstairs,” Eacon suggests, and I nod, curious about what she wants to discuss as I follow her out.
I study Eacon’s back as we stroll slowly down the corridor. There’s so much I still don’t know about this place, and Eacon is high on that list. Questions begin to pile up in my head, and I start stacking what it is I want to know most toward the front of my thoughts.
“Tarek mentioned to me that life after the ludere is proving to be complicated,” Eacon starts.
I’m surprised to hear that Tarek was talking about me with her, although I probably shouldn’t be. The Scorpions obviously trust and admire this fae, but it’s hard for me to picture Tarek going to anyone for advice. He seems so sure of himself and his decisions all of the time. I don’t know how much I like being the topic of anyone’s conversation or that Tarek probably asked Eacon to look in on me, but I swallow all of that down and offer her a small shrug.
