She bit her lip against another wave of giggles. He was going to give her a toothache with his guileless sweetness.
Maeve couldn’t help a peek over her shoulder. The cabin was small but orderly and contained everything a bachelor manticore might need. A cobblestone fireplace dominated one wall, a cauldron set on a tripod hanging over the cold grate. Two chairs sat by the fire, pulled from a set of five around a sturdy table. Soren worked feverishly to clear up the pewter plates and cups, no doubt from that morning’s breakfast, cluttering one side, while the other end of the table held various whittling projects.
The handful of cabinets, trunks, and sideboard were hewn of a lovely dark wood. Although not elaborate, they were well madeand polished to a warm shine. The ceiling was peaked, making the small space feel larger, and a collection of cushions and pillows softened the different seating options.
Most interesting of all was the large bed set in the corner. Piled with blankets and pillows, it was already made but clearly where Soren slept. A smaller bed, set into an alcove, was made but seemed to be missing some pillows.
“No looking,” Soren admonished when he caught her peeking.
“Sorry, sorry,” she laughed, turning to face the wall again.
When he did finally let her turn around, Maeve found the already tidy cabin perfectly clean. It shouldn’t have been surprising what a clean home Soren kept, given how careful and fastidious he was in his work. Everything had its place, and while nothing could be called pretty or decorative, each item was well kept and cared for.
Some trinkets for the mantel, pretty curtains, and a silk coverlet would go a long way,she thought absently.Simple additions.
As Maeve stepped further into the cabin, Soren set about lighting the sconces, as well as drawing the plain linen curtains. It was almost too warm for a fire in the fireplace, but he still lit one, muttering something about supper.
Maeve watched him work, and as the moments stretched, she realized two critical things: that Soren was nervous again, and so was she. Being in his space, aware of his anxiousness, as well as the compilation of all her anticipations was enough to get her fidgeting. So many of her encounters, including with Soren, had just…happened. Spontaneous. Yes, she liked to maneuver a situation to her liking, but she rarely said,do this at this time and place.
Do I just…get on the bed?A little flirting would go a long way right now she suspected, but her insides were twisted too tightlyto think of a plan.
Being touched intimately here in his home…it almost seemed to mean something.
And Maeve was determined not to think about things that might mean something.
Rallying her nerves, Maeve drew him away from the new fire. She smiled, hoping she looked braver than she felt, and led him toward the bed. Maeve sat—although she almost had to jump to get her seat—on the bed, but Soren kept his position before her, gaze anywhere but on her face.
“So I should…?”
Maeve patted the empty place beside her. “Let’s start slow. I’d like more kisses.”
He nodded stiffly before sitting down with awhump. Biting back another amused smile, Maeve turned to face him, petting his cheek and mane.
“You’re so soft,” she marveled.
“A mantii man’s pride is a neat mane,” he told the other side of the room.
Maeve worried his nerves might take a long while to overcome, or be too much altogether, but then his tail curled around her back, the end coming to land in her lap. He finally turned to hold her gaze, and the butterflies in Maeve’s stomach swooped.
“Not as soft as you, though,” he murmured, his eyes following his claws as they carded through her hair.
She was, of course, very proud of her strawberry-blonde locks, and Maeve never minded being admired. Still, such sincere praise, coming from Soren, had her blushing.
“It might be the only soft thing about me.” The admission spilled from her lips before she could stop it. Maeve’s heart stuttered, and she held her breath, wishing the words back into her foolish mouth.
Soren rumbled in consideration. “No, there are others.” When she looked at him in surprise, he seemed to realize his unintentional innuendo. Ears flattening, Soren cleared his throat. “You truly want to do this again? I didn’t…scare you?”
“Scare me? Of course not. I enjoyed it very much.”
His lips twitched even as his gaze fell away shyly. Fates, she might not mind a little arrogance if it was from Soren. Did it truly surprise him so much that he brought her pleasure?
“Myturukwas at the front of my mind. He…we wanted to taste you badly.”
Maeve was really starting to think she needed to meet this infamousturuk. Not tonight, though. Tonight, she needed to tame Soren the man.
“I want that, too. So,sobadly.” Sliding from the bed, Maeve came to stand before him, between his spread knees. They were of a height like this, and she enjoyed exploring all the different shades of green in his astonished gaze. “I’ve wanted it again since last night. All day today. You’ve left me aching, Soren. Won’t you fix it?”
His big hands grasped her by the waist, spanning her back and hips, and yet it felt as though it was him that clung to her for balance.
