“Not long enough,” she muttered, hunching over her arms wrapped around her waist and feeling her puffy stomach.God!She was going to look like a stuffed sausage on her wedding day if she didn’t do something drastic.
When Blaéz remained silent for far too long, she cast him a wary sideways glance.Nooo. She bit back a groan, realizing he was trying to figure out where in the day things had taken a turn. “After breakfast, you went off to the library,” he murmured, his brow creasing thoughtfully. “Then I found you practicing your knife throwing. Later we—ah.” Understanding lit his gaze.
“Don’t say it,” she warned.
He watched her quietly for a moment before setting her on her feet. He grasped her hand and tugged her to the floor-length mirror on the opposite wall. Pulling her in front of him, he held her by her upper arms as if well aware of her inclination to run.
“Look.”
“Why? I know what I look like,” she grumbled, glowering at him through the mirror. Besides, he was much nicer to look at. But,Christ on a crutch!She really did look like a sweaty rat.
Her t-shirt stuck to her full breasts like a second skin, and her black yoga pants hugged her hips—revealing her curves and rounded tummy. “And that’s a right ol’ mess.”
“You are perfect,a leannan.Don’t you know that?”
“Of course, you’d say that. You love me, so you wear those rose-tinted glasses,” she huffed, sucking in her stomach. Normally, she liked her curves, but with stress adding a few extra pounds—it was so unfair!
A glimmer of a smile hovered on his mouth before disappearing. He ran his lips over her shoulder. A lick of desire curled through her belly. “True, but no need for the…ah, rose-tinted glasses.”
“Stop laughing at me.” She smacked the hand holding her. “My dress is tight, and the designer wants to let out the seams,” she moaned. “That’s why I’ve been working the elliptical like a darn hamster.”
“And you said?” His mouth trailed up her neck, and his warm breath hit her ear while his lips and tongue did something really distracting to her earlobe. She forgot his question. Her breath caught in her throat. His hands skimmed down her arms. “I love everything about you,a leannan. You are exactly how a woman should be, soft and alluring. I cannot keep my hands off you, even for a second…” He cupped her t-shirt-covered breasts and squeezed them gently. “So, what did you tell her?”
“Huh?” Her mind cloudy with desire, it took her a moment to connect back to their conversation. She wasn’t surprised at how easily Blaéz took control of her body with his words and hands. He tugged at her earlobe with his teeth. “Darci?”
“Er, absolutely not.” Yeah, that’s what she’d told the annoying woman.
Soft laughter feathered her cheek. “That’s my girl.”
He slipped his hand under her t-shirt and pushed up her bra to cup her breasts. As he rolled her nipples, as if they had a direct line to her core, arousal burned brighter. She bit her lip to stifle her moan.
Too late. He’d seen her reaction in the mirror. His eyes narrowed. She recalled then that he always liked hearing her whimpers and cries when he touched her.
With one hand keeping her pinned against his hard chest and his thumb flicking her hardening nipple, he lowered the other to slip into the front of her tights, beneath her panties and down to her damp cleft. With unerring accuracy, he found her clit and rolled the nub with his thumb. “Never deny me the sounds I elicit from you,a leannan, even if we are following tradition. Every sigh, every moan, and every drawn-out whimper belongs to me.”
“God, Blaéz…” she groaned, her head pressed back into his chest, his words amping her arousal. She wanted him—neededhim—so badly.
You’re gonna give in? Lose the bet?
“Just say the word”—he ran his tongue along her exposed neck—“and I’ll give you what you desire, right here.”
It took a moment before the sexual haze parted and her muddled mind trundled back to reality. “W-what?”
His intense eyes trapped hers in the mirror, her wanton need clearly displayed. He stroked her clit again, and she choked back a whine, hating what she’d inadvertently set in motion with that silly article. She grabbed his hand, stopping its torment. “No.”
“So you think you can hold out, hmm?”
God, she bit her inner lip, wanting to yield. Her starving body begged her to wave a white flag in surrender. Instead, she inhaled deeply then smiled sweetly at him. “Of course, I can. Told you, I’m gonna whip your ass.”
A smile broke free, stealing her breath. It was so rare to see a full smile from him. Darci simply stared.
“Whip my arse? We’ll see…” He withdrew his fingers from her protesting body, held her gaze, and licked them free of her wetness. Her knees nearly buckled.
Ack! He was good, the sneaky immortal!
His eyes gleamed in amusement. “I’m going to shower. Join me…or not. I’ll see you in a half hour for lunch.”
Darci watched him saunter away and groaned.
