He was old-fashioned, even a little prudish, though he would never admit that.
When I entered our room, Alar was exactly where I'd left him, sitting on the edge of our bed with his chest bare and his chin-length hair beginning to dry.
He looked up when I walked through the door, his eyes roaming over my towel-clad body.
I closed the door behind me and dropped the towel.
Alar's expression went through several rapid transitions, starting with appreciation, moving to hunger, and then settling on something softer and more dangerous than any of those.
"Come here," he said.
I went.
He pulled me to stand between his knees, his hands settling on my hips.
I cupped his face in my hands and tilted it up to mine. "I love you," I said.
"I'll never get tired of hearing you say that." He turned his head to press his lips against my palm. "And I love you. I wishthere was a more poetic way to say that, but even though I was trained in rhetoric, I'm not good at this."
"You show me that you love me in a thousand different ways every day." I raked my fingers through his wet hair. "Like showering for the second time today for me."
"That's nothing."
I ran my hand over his defined shoulders, then down to his sculpted chest. "You're incredibly handsome, my prince. Did I tell you that today already?"
"Not today. No." He gave me that lopsided grin of his. "But please, go on."
"I can't keep my hands off you."
"Then don't."
I ran my hands over the muscles that months of training had carved into his body.
Alar leaned over, pressing his mouth to the curve of my waist and tracing a path upward, while hooking his thumbs in my panties and sliding them down over my hips with a deliberate slowness.
I pushed him back onto the bed, and he went willingly, pulling me down on top of him. The contact of skin against skin sent a wave of heat through me.
For weeks, our lovemaking had been gentle and careful because I'd been so depleted that even pleasure had tired me. Alar had been patient and tender, always putting my needs before his own, always mindful of my weakened state, but there was no need for that tonight.
Tonight I was fully charged and alive in a way I hadn't been since before the prophetic dreams had started draining me, and I intended to make up for lost time.
I kissed him, deep and slow, tasting wine and something sweeter underneath, the familiarity of a man whose body I'd learned over many shared nights.
His hands roamed my back, my hips, my bottom, then back to the curve of my waist, mapping all the territory he knew by heart but still explored as if it were new.
"You feel different tonight," he murmured against my mouth. "You feel like you're running hot but not because you are sick. It's like your core temperature has risen."
"It's Morgateth's energy." I shifted against him and felt his breath catch. "It's like being plugged into a power source. Everything is amplified."
"Define everything." His hands tightened on my hips.
"How about I show you?" I rubbed myself on top of him, regretting that he was still wearing the bottoms of his nightclothes. "But first, let's get you naked."
11
ALAR
"A King is taught to command. A lover learns to surrender. The wise man knows the right time and place for each."
