His eyes closed, worry etching lines into his brow. “Let us stay here for a while, and then I will take you to bed.”
I snorted at that, and even that simple gesture left me dizzy, the room tilting. “How very forward of you, Rowan.”
His eyes cracked open, and I could tell he was exhausted. Dark circles shadowed the skin beneath his pale eyes, and his jaw was tight with tension. “I hardly think you would forgive me if I tried anything when you have clearly been drugged.”
“Have I?” The words came out sharper than intended. “I don’tfeeldrugged. I’m just hot, in pain, and I’m—"
Horny.
My mouth snapped shut as that realization slammed into me.I’m not just horny. I’m on fire.The thought sent a jolt through my body. Pain and pleasure were often two sides of the same coin—I’d learned that in my previous life, learned it in ways that still made my stomach turn. But there, in that moment with Rowan, I felt the pull of delicious temptation.
We sat together in the tub in silence for a long while. I could tell Rowan was worried by how often he reached over and placed the back of his hand on my forehead. Whenever he touched me, I felt as if I could meltinto him; each time felt even more sensual than the last. As my fever eased, the intense pain radiating throughout my core intensified.
“Violet, how are you feeling now?”
Fucking feral,I wanted to moan. Instead, I bit my lip, clenched my thighs together, and said, “I think I’m fine.”
But even I didn’t sound convinced.
He checked my temperature again. “You are a little cooler now. It seems the cold bath brought your fever down. Let us get you dried off and into bed.”
I moved to stand, and he gently pushed against my chest, stopping me. The pressure of his palm so close to my breasts sent a wave of pleasure crashing through me so intense I gasped. The cold water lapping at my nipples only intensified the sensation.
“Nyet, wait.” He grabbed one of the plush towels hanging on the side of the tub, helped me stand, and wrapped it around me like a cocoon. “I have you.”
I whimpered and accepted his help, watching him guide each leg over the tub’s rim, his hands steering my hips with care. Everywhere he touched left trails of fire that stoked the inferno raging between my thighs. The urge to touch myself was getting stronger, nearly overwhelming.
“Rowan, what was I given?” I could guess, but I needed to hear him say it.
Rowan hesitated, and I knew I was right before he even spoke. “An aphrodisiac. But a very potent one. Your body is struggling to process it.”
I accepted the information as panic prickled up my spine, sharp and cold despite the heat consuming me. “That’s. . . inconvenient.”
Rowan chuckled in agreement. “Yes. It is. It is also offensive.”
I waited patiently as Rowan emptied the tub, the water swirling down the drain in a miniature whirlpool. He helped me dry off with brisk, efficient movements, then disappeared into the walk-in closet. My vision felt clearer then, noting he was no longer hazed in blue. I felt weak, yes, but no longer dizzy. He emerged moments later in gray sweats and a fresh, crisp white shirt.
After a long moment of silence where he seemed to be gathering courage, he spoke. “Can I trust you to walk, or will you trust me to carry you to the bed?”
My arms reached for him in answer. He gently pulled me against his chest and lifted me off my feet. I decided I could get used to this, feeling like the princess he teased me for being. He carried me to his bedroom and laid me on crisp white sheets. I slid into them with a sigh that was half relief, half frustration.
All of my thoughts were slow and fuzzy, but I wasn’t nearly as feverish as before. My horniness, however, had only gotten more ferocious. Unfinished desire coiled taut within me like a hungry snake. Angry. Insistent. Demanding.
I can’t masturbate in Rowan’s bed. Can I?I flushed at the thought, caught between shame and arousal.
Rowan tucked the sheets around me and checked my forehead one more time, muttering something that sounded close to approval.
“Rowan—" I started, then looked away, unable to meet his eyes. “Do you mind if I. . .”
He went rigid as a statue, and I watched his eyes dart over me, assessing. “If you. . . what?”
“I just need a few minutes alone.Please.” The plea escaped before I could stop it.
Realization dawned on him then, his expression shifting from concern to something darker. He nodded and stepped towards the door. “Call me if you need me.”
I need you right now, I nearly said. “Okay.”
The door closed behind him, casting the room in shadow, broken only by ambient light filtering through the floor-to-ceiling windows. I slid my fingers between my legs immediately, desperate for relief from the ache that threatened to consume me.
