“I am well, Little Fawn. All will be well.”
Through my tear-swirled vision, I spot a light pouring from Kane’s hand. It’s golden yellow, nearlyindistinguishable from the chaos of the fire, but I’ve seen this kind of magick before. “You’re putting out the flames.”
“I have helped as best I can,” he says, not slowing down as we reach the grand staircase.
“You have to go back. Put it out completely.”
“They would kill me for practicing magick, for having it at all. And I have done more than what you saw. It will not spread farther, but we must escape this smoke.”
I cling to him, my arms tight around his neck, my face buried against his chest. His muscles flex with each powerful step, his breath steady despite the strain. The stairs blur beneath us as he climbs. The higher we go, the cooler the air, the heavy smoke unable to follow us into the sanctuary of the upper floors.
We reach our room, and Kane kicks the door open without breaking his stride. He gently sets me down on the plush edge of the bed, the silk duvet cool against my tender skin. He turns back, slamming the door shut and locking it behind him.
My body trembles, my heart still pounding in my chest as the quiet of the room unfurls around me, and I breathe in lungfuls of crisp, clean air.
“Are you hurt?” Kane tears off his eye patch and crouches in front of me, his dark gaze searching mine for any signs of pain. He caresses my arms, gentle and careful, as if I might shatter under his touch, before moving his hands to my legs. He rips away my stockings and cautiously examines my skin beneath, pink with heat.
I shake my head and blow out a long, slow breath. “I’m not hurt.”
The intensity in his gaze never wavers, his eyes dark and full of a fierce protectiveness as his fingers trail up my calves. The warmth of his touch spills into my skin, easing the lingering tension, and I lean against him, catching my breath in the safety of his arms.
“You saved me. Again.” My voice wavers, the adrenaline ebbing, leaving a tremble in its wake.
He lifts his hand, then hesitates a moment before brushing a stray lock of hair from my face. His touch is light, but it brings a new wave of heat rolling against my skin as his fingers trail down my cheek.
“Fawn…”
The room seems to close in around us, the sounds of the ongoing rush to extinguish the withering flames a distant rumble beneath the pulse throbbing in my ears.
His fingers graze my chin, lifting it slightly, his face inching closer to mine. He smells like smoke and pine and something distinctly Kane.
“I will always save you.”
His other hand wraps around my waist, pulling me closer until there’s no space left between us. His gaze slides to my lips, lingering, questioning. Our eyes meet, and without another word, his mouth crashes over mine in a desperate, fiery claim.
I reach up, threading my fingers through his hair, pulling him closer, needing the connection, needing him.
He wraps his arms around me, pressing me to him. Hungry to feel his naked skin, I tear at the collar of his shirt. He stops me, grabbing my wrists, and I moan as he breaks the kiss, our foreheads resting against each other, our breaths mingling.
“Patience, Little Fawn.” His hand strokes downthe column of my neck, my shoulders, my collarbones, over the plump rise of my breasts pushing against the strict confines of my corset. “I like to take my time.”
He stands and pulls me to my feet before hooking his fingers over the back of my dress. With a sharp tug, he rips away what’s left of the soot-streaked fabric. It falls around my feet like a tattered rag. And, once again, I’m in front of him in nothing but laces and silk.
“I nearly lost you.” His voice is a rough whisper as he undoes the pins from my hair with deliberate slowness. “And without tasting you first.” He fists my long braid in his hand and pulls it down until my face tilts up. “A mistake I will not make again.”
He claims my mouth with a ferocity that makes me moan. My fingers fly to his waistband, desperate to free his cock, to feel him against me.
Using my braid for leverage, he jerks my head back, breaking our kiss once again. “What did I say about patience?”
It’s a question that doesn’t require an answer, but I offer one anyway. “I’ve been good.”
He releases my braid and slides his rough palm over the swell of my breasts. “Have you?”
His touch ignites a fire, and I can only nod, desire surging through me, slick heat trailing down my inner thighs. He backs away and begins a slow circle around me, his dark eyes trailing over every inch of my body.
He stops behind me, and his words vibrate against my back. “Should we see how good of a girl you can be?” He pulls my corset laces, and I suck in a breath as it tightens around me. “These laces are designed toconstrain and define, but I wonder how well they hold when pushed to their limits.”
I swallow. “Should we find out?” I ask, my voice a breathy plea.
