But just so we’re clear, we never sleep apart; not even on days my intensity makes your hands itch to throttle me.
My smile reaches higher, deeper.I’ll stick to throttling your cock in one of our two beds. Speaking of cocks, shall we go retrieve yours, mo khrà?
Retrieve my cock,he mutters right before popping my ass cheek.
Did you just spank me?
Well, you did just call medickless.He spins me around, his hands kneading the skin he tapped, and then he tilts my hips, and I flail forward, my fingers locking around the edge of the chest of drawers that sits like an island in the middle of his dressing chamber.My cock may not be made of flesh, Fallon, but it can fill you up just the same. Allow me to demonstrate.
When he slams home, I wheeze.
Can you feel me, my love?
I can feel nothing else.
To punish me once again for having alluded to his missing manhood, he rubs my ass, then gives it a brisk smack. A dizzying current whizzes through my body, zapping a throaty mewl from my lungs.
Oh, Gods, Lore. Oh—I choke as Lore pounds into me, stretching me with his shadows—Gods—my climax roars through my body, jostling both my skin and marrow—Lore!
He keeps rocking his shadow-hips.Reassured?
I didn’t mean to make you feel like less of a man.
He doesn’t respond, merely recalls his shadows. When a translucent trail of wetness dribbles down my inner thighs, he rips a fresh tunic off a hanger and cleans my skin.
I hook up an eyebrow.Was any of that yours?
His gaze remains locked on the fabric absorbing my pleasure.No.
Because he cannot come in this form . . .
If I need to come, I’ll penetrate your mind before I penetrate your body. Now get dressed and meet me in the war room.
His gruff timbre makes me glance over my shoulder at where he stands, delineated in dark wisps.How do I reach the war room?
Use the door beside my fireplace. It’ll lead to a sitting room, which will lead you to the war room.His tone is laced with so much frost that it ices my heart.
“Lore, I’m sorry. I . . .”
He leaves before I can finish speaking. So I tell him that I love him no matter his form through our mind link, then stare around my closet for a solid minute before going to my undergarment drawer and riffling through it. I find no swimming costume, but I do find a black bodysuit. When I look at it more closely, I realize it’s part of the dress Lore shredded the first night we spent together. Someone has darned the piece of fabric between the legs. They didn’t bother reattaching the gossamer skirt but they did fold it up neatly beside the one-piece.
Not only is the outfit perfect for a swim, but hopefully, it will work wonders on my mate’s mood. After slipping into the one-piece, I tie the skirt around my waist and swing by my bathing chamber to brush out my snarled locks, pivoting my head to admire how they move now that they reach past my collarbone. I shouldn’t care about my hair’s length, but apparently, even in times of uncertainty and war, I’m vain like that.
You’re neither human nor Fae,my mind whispers.Grow your damn hair to your toes if you so wish.
I really adore my conscience sometimes.
I wrangle the tamed lengths into a short braid. Not bothering with shoes, I plod back through the secret passageway, the smooth stone floor cool beneath my bare toes. The air is so brisk I almost unknot my sash to use it as a stole, but considering how thin the fabric is, it would be rather useless so I leave it where it is.
Though Lore can slip under doors, he’s left the one beside his enormous stone hearth wide open.My grumpy, considerate mate.
The library is dark in spite of the three small windows spitting wan light onto the high desk that is stained the same mahogany as the floor-to-ceiling shelving. The desk, which takes up a good portion of the room, is covered in an ochre map of Luce held flat by stone paperweights.
I remember this room! I mind-walked into this room.
Though the door to the war room is also propped open, and from the high tones, arguments are being had, I linger in the doorway, running my gaze over the rows of leather-bound books, absorbing all the gilt magnificence. Deciding I’ll have a lifetime to explore all of Lore’s books, I march ahead.
Unlike the narrower library, this room sprawls as long and wide as the Sky Tavern. Though no windows are carved into the wall, a round skylight pours brightness into the dusky room, giving the smooth stone floor the appearance of polished silver and the graphite battle scenes adorning all four walls a depth that makes the murals come alive.
