“He did,” the knight murmured. “I visit the man often.”
“Is he okay?”
Aire went quiet for a moment. “He will never be okay. Yet he endures and has regained his happiness by marrying again.”
Self-loathing over that night was nothing new. But my feelings didn’t matter as much as Merit’s kin. If the soldier’s husband lived on, I had no right to coddle myself.
Despite his doting instincts, Aire knew better than to put a hand on me. Neither out of comfort, nor reassurance. Unless I consented, he’d keep his fingers to himself.
“Mama was the Master Carpenter until I was born,” I recalled. “After that, she wouldn’t pick up a tool, so the guild replaced her. She doesn’t know what they did to me, but she always suspected something was wrong and assumed I was spooked by the vengeful trees. Whenever I secretly fretted aboutthe Masters summoning me, Mama sensed the agitation and brewed me a cup of hot chocolate.” My mouth lifted into a sad grin. “I could have cried at the gesture.”
“But you did not,” Aire predicted.
I shook my head. “I wouldn’t let those extremists get to me that way. They didn’t deserve my tears. Though, it wasn’t about them.”
“It was because she took care of you.”
Yes. Mama’s caring and nurturing actions. Those were the reasons I could have wept.
“You wear the hood for her,” Aire surmised. But when I made no response, his tone grew emphatic. “To deprive the world of something beautiful is a tragedy. You deserve to be admired. To be seen for who you are.”
“What if I don’t know who I am?”
“Brave. Sacrificial. Compassionate,” he listed. “Your favorite color is silver, you prefer cranberries to apples, maintain a bond with your axe, possess the soul of a fighter, and have a soft spot for arachnids and woodpeckers—”
“You know about the woodpecker?”
“You’ve mentioned that avian a few times. Also, Nicu is like a brother to you, and you would slay a leviathan bare-handed for your mother, as well as for the clan. That is who you are.”
My breath hitched. Aire was right. He couldn’t read me, but this man did see me, and he understood me.
I thought of the whetstone, every time he said my worth didn’t need justification, and that moment when I pulled the hood from my face. That terrifying second before his kiss tore me to shreds.
On either side of my waist, Aire’s fingers curled into fists. “Had I known the abuse you suffered, I would have gutted the Masters in the courtyard battle.” His baritone intensified. “Youshouldn’t be handled in any way but devotional. That is how you should be touched.”
Heat swam in my veins. Suddenly, every stitch of clothing grated my flesh, from my inner thighs to my breasts.
“How else?” I breathed. “How would you touch me?”
The knight paused. Hearing the invitation, an internal struggle ensued, his muscles taut like ropes. At some point, the hood had slumped to expose my profile, drawing his head nearer, the edge of his mouth rustling my cheek. Then resistance gave way to resignation, the words dropping from him as though they’d been ripped out.
“I would kiss you again,” he husked.
Liquid warmth clotted the slit between my legs, arousal wetting the line of my pussy. “The same way?”
“No. I would kiss you deeper and longer.”
“Sounds like you’ve given this some thought.”
“Given it thought,” he muttered with a humorless laugh, as if the phrase was insufficient. “Since it happened, I can think of nothing else. The taste of your mouth, the sound of your moan, and the weight of your body shaking in my embrace have imbued itself into my memory. No, Aspen. I have not given it thought,” he rasped, the confession splintering from his chest. “With every waking moment, I have obsessed over it. So much that I would make it a reality once more. You favor lies over truth, yet I would take care of you the way no one has seen fit to do. I would give you something authentic. An honest pleasure.”
Each surreal word sent my body reeling. I never fucked anybody who showed signs of taking advantage or failing to reciprocate. Even so, those had been flings. Transactional exchanges.
Visions of what Aire offered filled my head, wiping my sexual past clean like a blank slate. Unconditional touches. Sensory stimulation. Genuine intentions.
His frame heaved against my own. The tips of my nipples perked, and my clit throbbed.
I turned my head, colliding with a pair of searing blue irises. “I’d like that.”
