I won’t be able to fall back asleep until the memories are washed away.
"Eveera."
“Not in the mood to talk. I’m in the mood to shower.” I call out, cutting him off while I pull my hair up into a loose, sweaty bun, "last chance to turn away." I snap, pushing the strap of my nightdress off my right shoulder and then my left, the soaked, silky material thudding to the floor around my feet.
I don’t care to check if he’s looking away or not, only caring about stepping into the scalding hot stream. The water singes my skin, each droplet leaving a red welt in its place as they bead off of me and onto the tiled floor.
The lingering question of what Rorin decided to do is answered when I become acutely aware that he’s moved in behind me; his presence at my back sends the hairs on my skin straight up.
His arm bands across my collarbone, leaving only a thin gap between us. His head drops on top of mine, and I can feel the threads of my self-resolve threatening to snap. "You have a real issue with personal space.”
The low rumble of his laugh rattles through my body. "I told you — I'm done withspace."The last word drips off his tongue with disgust, and his arm tenses. "Is that… what he kept you in?" He asks the question carefully, his voice brimming with rage.
I swallow thickly, shoving down the panic and fear the dream left behind. "Among other things." I reply bitterly, "ha… that wasn't even the worst part. I could almost deal with the claustrophobia or the back pain. But…"
"But what?" Rorin grits.
"The tonics… the shackles. HisWield.A trifecta of torture."A trifecta that under any other circumstances I would have been proud of.
Rorin squeezes my shoulder, and slowly I turn around. I’m at eye level with his scarred and muscled chest, my eyes searching each mark on down and… my gaze snaps straight back up, cheeks heating.Wow.I allow myself to think briefly before I take notice of Rorin's expression. His eyes are dark, anger — no —ragebuilding behind them.
The air starts to become stifling, his Wield uncontrollably spilling through his fingers. I bring my hand up to cup his cheek, our bodies only a hairsbreadth apart now, and my touch is all it takes for the magic to die out. He surges forward, the remaining space gone in a millisecond. Wet flesh collides against wet flesh as he pushes my back fully against the wall, his arms caging me in.
"Why let him get away?" He growls.
I suck in a shaky breath, trying to ignore the fact that my bare body is pressed against his. "He knows I'll come for him. And until then, I know he's sitting somewhere — hiding out, cowering, cloaking himself to buy more time. But he's no fool. He's aware his days are numbered. He just doesn’t know what that number is."
Rorin nods his head, eyes unconvinced. "It was his life or mine. I finally chose mine." With that answer, his expression softens.
He bends his elbow, laying his forearm against the shower wall behind my head. Rorin leans in, resting his forehead against mine. We stand there for a moment, basking in the comfort of one another, before he nudges his nose along mine.
Rorin’s lips graze down my cheek until they capture my mouth. The kiss starts gently and slowly, painfully slowly. He drags his fingers along the edge of my jaw, my neck tilting to give him more access as he continues that descent until his palm is resting just above my breast, pressing down over my heart. His tongue slides along the seam of my lips, asking for permission, which I grant easily.
My mouth parts, and he wastes no time flattening me against the wall, our tongues tangling together as he consumes more of my mouth, deepening the kiss. The breath is completely gone from my lungs as he steals one kiss after another.
He touches me as if I’m something to savor… as if each collision of lips and teeth is his only form of sustenance.
Rorin’s knee nudges between my thighs, making more room to fit himself fully against me, and heat pools in my lower stomach. My hands explore the planes of his chest while his ghost down my sides, his left palm stopping beneath my belly button. He pushes down over where the heat has spread, languidly moving further down… “ah…” I start to moan, and he captures the sound, pulling my lip between his teeth.
He keeps his hand moving, sliding it along my hip, annoyingly careful not to let his fingers dip any lower. Frustration builds in me, and I squirm against him. A laugh rumbles through his chest, and in the moment, it feels cruel to have me fidgeting against his naked body.
His very. naked. body.Oh, bleeding fucking gods…
Rorin's rough palm fits underneath my ass, gripping it tightly before hoisting me up, my legs wrapping naturally around his waist. The evidence of the effect of his…everythinghas on me becomes blatantly obvious, with my wound around him.
"Beloved…"He whispers, nipping at my bottom lip and pulling back to look at me with his heady stare.
My voice catches in my throat, and all I can manage is a weak, "please."
"Thank fuck."
Rorin
The sound of her voice consumed my mind for the entirety of the night.
Her breathy moans, her soft whimpers. At one point, I pitied the squires outside the doors, but it was overpowered by the smug bit of satisfaction that rolled through me every time my name fell off her lips.
She’s been asleep for hours, the dreams no longer plaguing her mind, thank the gods.
