It didn’t matter what I did; I couldn’t get Niamh’s naked body from my brain.
I looked down at my hard cock and knew there was only one way I’d be getting relief tonight. Just one time. Just one time, I’d let myself do this, and never again.
I unlaced my trousers and lay on my bed, the mattress sinking under my weight as I grabbed my cock and started pumping, strokingmyself, imagining a very different scenario. One where I’d waded into that steaming pond and joined Niamh. Where I leaned down and sucked on one of her nipples, grabbed her plush hips, dug my fingers into that round ass. Godwitches. I groaned out, already close to coming from these thoughts of her.
“Oh, fuck,” I said, feeling that tingle at the base of my spine as my orgasm shot through me, hot cum spurting out, my cock pulsing. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
I lay there for a full minute before getting up to grab a rag and clean myself, and horror struck me at what I’d just done. I was an animal for fantasizing about her like that. Fantasizing about a woman who could never be mine.
Who I didn’t even want to be mine. Yet I couldn’t seem to let her go, no matter how hard I tried.
Rustling sounded outside my window, and I shoved on my trousers, ready to go scare away whatever creature had likely wandered into Fairwitch. Or kill it if it could be eaten. Magical creatures sometimes did that—crossed our barrier without realizing it. Sometimes they were harmless. Sometimes not.
I laced my trousers, not bothering with a shirt as I stalked outside to see Niamh standing there, clothes plastered to her body, hair dripping wet as she trembled, a bluish tint to her skin, and I knew that no matter how hard I tried, there would be no letting this woman go.
CHAPTER 26
Wolfe
“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” I stomped forward and lifted her into my arms, cradling her to my chest, her wet clothes icy against my skin.
“What are you doing?” She protested but didn’t squirm or try to get out of my arms.
“Taking you to get dry and warm before you make the long trek back to the castle. You might be brave and strong, but you’re also turning blue.”
Blue tinted her fingertips, but what concerned me was the way it stretched farther down her fingers, the way it also colored her lips. I’d never seen it beyond her fingertips, so it had to be serious.
“I can take care of myself,” she said.
“I know that. But it doesn’t mean you can’t let others take care of you too.” I hesitated. “Just because your parents and the princess coddled you, it doesn’t make you weak. What made you weak was how you saw yourself. That’s it.”
She snapped her mouth shut as we approached a stone pit where a roaring fire crackled.
Niamh froze in my arms.
“Shit,” I said. I’d been so preoccupied with getting her warm, I’d somehow forgotten her fear. “I’m sorry. Let me put it out?—”
“Don’t,” she said, voice tight, then squeezed her eyes shut. “I’m safe. I’m safe. I’m safe,” she chanted.
My eyebrows shot up. She was doing it. She was trying to work through her trauma. I’d never seen anything so brave in my entire life, or anyone so willing to do things out of their comfort zone. I stared down at her in awe as she took deep breaths, saying the same words over and over.
“I’m safe, I’m safe, I’m safe.”
“Can I set you down by the fire?” I asked quietly, slowly.
Her breath hitched, but she nodded, eyes still closed. “It’s the smoke,” she said. “That smell hits me, and I’m flooded with emotion, with panic. My chest gets tight.”
“For me, it’s a pounding,” I said. “In my ears. Sometimes it helps to remind myself that it’s not Lor dying all over again. And right now, this smoke isn’t signaling danger.” I set her down in front of a log, and she leaned against it, inhaling shaky breaths. “It means you’re warm, that you won’t get sick.”
She slowly opened her eyes as I moved to sit on the log. “Don’t go too far—” She reached up for me, then bit her lip. “I think I need a friend right now. Someone to ground me.”
I nodded. “Let me get my shirt first.”
Her gaze fell to my chest, then snapped up to my eyes. “Yes, good idea.”
I went inside to get one of my thicker wool tunics and reemerged with a blanket for Niamh, whose eyes were squeezed shut as she sat motionless, still leaning against the log. I moved in right next to her and threw the blanket over her shoulders before I made to put some space between us. She reached out and clutched my hand, her grip so tight it shot straight to my bones. I took a deep breath and moved right next to her. I knew enough about trauma toknow that sometimes touch could help a person through a triggering moment.
“This is hard,” she said with a shaky breath. “My heart is pounding, but I’m not spiraling, so that’s good.”
