“We should rest,” he said, running his thumb over Corabeth’s hand, but did not release it.
“Yes,” agreed Corabeth, without making an effort to pull away.
Rooke took a single step closer to her and lifted his eyes to hers, a thousand questions swimming in the depths.Is this okay? Have I gone too far? May I go further?But he would find no objections, no resistance, in Corabeth’s gaze. Her parted lips, rapidly falling and rising chest, were answers enough.
When Rooke pressed his lips against hers, she breathed in the scent that was entirely him. She thought she could taste something metallic.
Rooke pulled back, whispering, “It’s very late,” somewhat breathlessly, and continued kissing Corabeth. She couldn’t help the smile that tugged at her lips.
“Yes,” she agreed again between kisses.
Neither of them moved, instead losing themselves in each other.
Rooke’s lips grazed her jaw and moved down her neck, peppering her with small kisses, each one sending a chill down her body, until he found the spot where her pulse was strongest. There he licked and sucked until Corabeth had to bite her lip to keep from making a sound. It was only for a moment that Corabeth considered he might bite her. But that thought wasquickly buried beneath the way Rooke’s hands roamed her body, the feel of him against her.
Corabeth let her fingers sink into Rooke’s hair, holding him precisely where she wanted him. That happened to be everywhere all at once, she discovered. In turn, Rooke showered her with kisses, his grasp on her becoming more and more desperate.
Being so wanted, so desired, made Corabeth feel weightless. Like she was perpetually falling without the fear of ever hitting the ground.
“Take me to your room,” she whispered against his lips.
Rooke froze, their breaths mingling for a moment until he regained his bearings. The fire with which he was staring at Corabeth was undeniable, yet he still had some self-imposed restraints that made him hesitate.
Corabeth let her slick lips brush against his, encouraging him further. She didn’t need him to hold back for her sake.
Rooke sank into the kiss. The way his hand found its way to the back of Corabeth’s head made it clear just how much he wanted her. It was as if he could not be close enough to her.
When he broke away, he gave Corabeth a long look, perhaps giving her a chance to back away. When she stood her ground, he took her hand and led her down the right wing to the third door on the left.
The tall wooden door opened and revealed a room much like the one Corabeth had come to consider her own. Larger than her own house in the village had been with a four-poster bed, a large wardrobe, and a fireplace. Rooke rushed there now to get a fire going.
“I don’t use this very much,” he said, throwing in some logs, “The cold doesn’t really bother me.”
As the first flames flickered to light, they illuminated the room, and Corabeth was able to take in more details. Like thebookshelves that covered the walls even here, the desk that was covered in papers, trinkets here and there.
Corabeth took a slow tour around the room, noticing more and more: the skull of some small animal on a shelf, a windchime made entirely out of bones, a lamp, its stand some animal’s spine. Or was it human? She turned and looked at Rooke, raising her eyebrows in question.
“I have to admit,” he said somewhat apologetically, “There was a time when I slightly lost my mind and took up some rather strange hobbies.”
Corabeth laughed as she continued, making her way towards the shelves that were on either side of the balcony doors. She took her time, admiring the books, although she wasn’t really paying attention to them. Instead, she was focused on the weight of Rooke’s gaze upon her. He was keeping his distance, and yet, when she took a step, so did he. When Corabeth glanced over her shoulder, he was watching her from the shadows, that familiar animalistic glint in his eyes. But this was different. A distinct kind of hunger that was echoed in Corabeth.
They continued this dance—Corabeth walking from shelf to desk to shelf, Rooke staying just out of arm's reach. She felt herself hunted. But she doubted Rooke’s prey took as much pleasure in his predatory gaze as she did.
When there was little left in the room to look at, she turned and all at once, Rooke was right there, staring down at her.
“I like your room,” she said, peering up into his black eyes, and felt herself quite foolish for it.
A lazy smile tugged at the left corner of Rooke’s mouth. He leaned down, bringing his lips to Corabeth’s neck. “I like the way your pulse quickens when I am close to you.”
The small kisses that followed, leading him to Corabeth’s lips, were torturous, covering her body in goosebumps. She sighedinto the kiss as she wrapped her arms around him, welcoming him in.
Rooke’s arms folded around her to pull her closer, if such a thing was even possible. His mouth explored hers, first soft and slow, then firm and demanding. Distantly, Corabeth realized they were moving backwards when she felt the backs of her thighs hit something.
“I crave all of you, Corabeth,” Rooke murmured against her skin.
“You have me, you have me,” Corabeth whispered back, half-delirious. She wanted to wrap her entire self around Rooke, feel him with her whole being. If only there weren’t so many layers of pesky clothing separating them.
Corabeth’s hands slid under the lapels of Rooke’s jacket and easily pushed it off his shoulders, the fabric falling to the floor in a whisper. The buttons of his waistcoat and shirt proved more difficult. With just the top buttons undone, Corabeth let her hands glide under the fabric of his shirt to feel his skin.
