But as I exit my chamber, I despise the feeling she has given me—one of being dismissed.
She isfast asleep when I return to my sleeping quarters several ticks of the moons later—even though I did not order her food drugged tonight.
I frown when I see that the Door Gravel has apparently brought in a pile of taarhorn fleeces for her to both lie upon and sleep under.
It is not a terrible idea, I suppose, for a weak species without any kind of internal heating mechanism.
She looks… comfortable. Adorable, even, in that soft, vulnerable way I did not know I appreciated until she crashed into my life—tempting me in ways I have not previously had to contend with.
Is she naked underneath those fleeces?
An image of me claiming her in this odd horizontal position that humans take for their sleep enters my brain and refuses to leave.
Even when I lower to my knees before her and use my shadow magic to install a second wall mount with another obsidian manacle attached.
Now it is time to touch her again. I refuse to acknowledge the way the staff behind my leather pants instantly springs to life when I lift the fur and discover that yes… by Eryx, she is sleeping naked.
Her lush dark curves, in such contrast to the cream-white taarhorn fleece, beckon like a spoken invitation.
One I do not dare accept.
Instead, I make quick work of pulling her arms up from beneath the blanket, securing both wrists in one hand while using the other to cover her back up with the fleece.
“Hey, what’re you doing?” she mumbles as I fasten the original cuff around her top wrist.
“Securing you to the wall so you do not leave my sleeping quarters upon the morn,” I answer.
“Meanie,” she mumbles as I shackle her other wrist. Her voice is still full of sleep as she watches me fasten the new cuff through half-open eyes. “You’re a total weed worm. Do you know that? The biggest I’ve ever met.”
By Eryx, does she even dare to defy me in her sleep? Her audacity disgusts me.
Or at least it should.
When I lay her cuffed wrist down on top of her fleece cover it slips down, once again revealing her soft, ample breasts as she sighs and settles back into her makeshift bed, closing her eyes.
“Wish you weren’t so freaking sexy,” she mumbles, eyes closed again. “It’d make hating you so much easier.”
I still.What did she just say?
“Have fun on your senseless killing spree tonight?” she asks, not opening her eyes.
I did not.
And I blame her for that.
Out loud, I answer, “Those who crossed us were meted punishment.”In the form of a severe warning, I silently add.
“Oh, my moons, you’re the worst,” she sighs, snuggling deeper into the fleece like some manner of burrowing mammal. To my great relief, the motion covers her unnecessarily alluring breasts.
“Please keep talking like that,” she murmurs. “I don’t want to die a virgin, but I can’t let myself give in to you. ’Cuz you’re basically a pile of compost underneath a really hard-not-to-touch body.”
She shakes her sleepy head. “I need all the reminders of my excellent reasons not to ever kiss you again. Even if that was the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced in my entire life.”
She was fighting off the temptation, too?
Something tightens in my chest, something… dangerous. I should walk away. Leave her cuffed and protected and forget every word she just spilled like a drunken confession.
But instead, I lean closer.
