Daed flinches barely, but I catch it. Another press. Then another. Sharp breaths hiss through his teeth.
I pause. “Am I doing it wrong?”
“You’re fine,” he mutters. “But you could be a little gentler.”
My brow lifts. That only makes me press harder.
He hisses, eyes flashing as he glances over his shoulder. But when he meets my scowl, he doesn’t speak, just turns back around and rests his head on the table again, missing the satisfied smirk that curls my lips.
“That’s it,” Solena encourages. “On to the next one.”
I move from rune to rune, darkening each mark, watching the way his muscles shift and twitch beneath my touch. The way his breath stutters and falls into rhythm. My fingers glide over warm skin, and every time I touch him, truly touch him, he shivers.
“You’ll need to sit him up to finish the neck,” Solena says quietly.
“I can hear you,” Daed groans, pushing himself upright and swinging his legs over the side of the table.
He throws back his head, sweeping the dark fall of hair from his eyes, and when he looks up, our faces are barely a breath apart.
He swallows hard, startled. “Sorry.”
I shake my head, my cheeks warming with a sudden, helpless heat. Gods, how long had it been since my husband made me blush? “It’s fine.”
But it isn’t fine. It’s devastating.
The heat radiating off him rolls over me like a tide, thick and stifling, laced with the scent of him, deep, musky, familiar. I feel dizzy with it. Drunk on him.
Solena, oblivious, leans over my shoulder, peering at my hand.
“You’re drifting off the line,” she mutters, her tone clipped. “Focus.”
I clear my throat and nod, noticing the smug curve of Daed’s lips. “Right. Focus.”
I press the needle again, quick and steady, darkening the edge of the rune. My eyes stay fixed on the pattern, but I can feel his gaze burning into me like the blaze of a molten sun. His legs shift, just enough that his knee brushes me, subtle yet deliberate. I don’t move.
His fingers slide along the leather of his trousers, back and forth. Sometimes they skim over the seam where his thigh touches mine, casual, calculated.
“That’s better,” Solena says, approving. “Keep going like that.”
“Yes,” Daed murmurs. “Keep going like that.”
His thumb presses gently into my thigh, just above the knee.
I gulp.
Then a knock.
The door creaks open before anyone gives leave. Orios leans in, ducking his massive frame.
“Solena,” he says, scanning the room until he finds her. “I’ve made you something to eat.”
She nods, still more interested in the runes than the interruption. “Thank you. I’ll be there soon.”
My heart thunders. “I can finish this,” I say somehow. “It’s nearly done.”
“You’re sure?” she asks, brows raised.
“If I need help, I’ll find you.”
