Oops.
He shifts behind me, his legs nudging me as he adjusts. And then he continues to braid in silence until he’s done.
“Thank you,” I say, standing. Sad that it’s over already.
“You’re welcome,” he mumbles. He stands quickly, already heading toward the bathing chamber.
Do I wait for him out here? Do I head to bed?
I decide to wait.
He emerges in no time, and my mouth parts at the sight of him.
He’s wearing a bathing cloth tied around his waist, his smooth, defined ab muscles and shoulders on full display.
“Would you happen to have any extra…”
We lock eyes, and he stops.
“I—” My breath hitches and words fail me.
“Of course you don’t. That was a stupid idea.” He shakes his head and pieces of his wet hair fall onto his forehead.
“I don’t have any male clothes. Sorry,” I take a breath and try not to look down. “Do you still have to get everything you need for the trip before the morning though?”
“It’s already at the stables,” he says. “I’ll just put my pants back on,” he mumbles, turning away.
His back is chiseled with even more muscles. I can’t tear my eyes away.
He emerges again after another moment, still shirtless but wearing his black pants. “Do you mind if I sleep in this? I run really hot…”
I shake my head. “What do you normally sleep in?”
“Nothing.”
“Oh.”
Naked? He sleeps naked. Why the fuck did he have to tell me that.
“Okay, well… you can sleep here. It’s comfortable. I’m off to bed.”
He steps closer, and I can’t rip my eyes away from the wet hair, his glistening torso, his intense eyes…
“Goodnight,” I whisper when he’s within a few steps.
“Goodnight, Elysande,” he says. He reaches out a hand and smooths down a piece of hair on my head. “Sweet dreams.”
It has to be the hit I took. I can’t stop staring at his full, pink lips, his torso, all of it. I’m drowning in it.
And for some reason, I feel like he’s looking at me like I’m something he can’t have. There’s sorrow in his eyes. But I’m right in front of him, thirsting for just a touch.
“Maybe…” I whisper. “Just for tonight…”
His jaw tightens, and he shakes his head. Then, grabbing onto both sides of my face with gentle hands, he looks into my eyes. “I don’t deserve you.” The confession that spills out of his lips in a whisper has the opposite effect of what he intended. His eyes are haunted, but so am I.
Heat builds between my legs and in my belly.
I reach out slowly, and his eyes remain locked on mine as I run my hand down his smooth chest.
