Page 94 of Bound By the Sleeper’s Harp

“Then yes! I’m all yours.” He wasted no time. His hands came under my hips, scooping me up. I squealed, trying to wrap myself around him, clinging to him for dear life. “Bastian!” I pinched his hard muscle. He didn’t even flinch.

He walked us into the shower, turning me away from the spray as water came cascading out. Goosebumps prickled my skin and I shivered against him. He set me back on my feet, letting my body slide down his, over his hard cock. Then moved me into the stream of hot water.

My eager groan was answered with a low rumble of a chuckle. His fingers found my hair, working it back, getting it wet. I rolled my lips between my teeth before saying, “Are you going to wash me?”

“You’re mine to care for, so yeah.”

There was that word again. Mine. I let it sink in, trying to ignore the thrill of it. Did he really mean it? I cleared my throat. “Uhm, Bas?”

“Hmm?” He set about lathering up my loofa. “You don’t exactly do relationships, do you?”

“Not usually, no.” His focus was absolute as he prepared to wash me. His long fingers, the way he worked my body wash into a lather, was distracting as hell.

I cleared my throat. “Right. So, relationships. When, exactly, was your last one?”

He shrugged. “Couple centuries ago, give or take”

Which confirmed my suspicions. He hadn’t had one—not since he’d had his heart broken by Sara. The human who’d given him his distrust for humans. For relationships in general.

The loofa was well and truly lathered. “Turn around, Elle. Let me get your back.”

I sighed, complying. A hand wrapped around the front of my shoulder, gently holding me in place while the other began to clean me. I waited in silence for several minutes before saying, “So. You don’t do relationships at all then?”

“Nope.”

“I… I see.” A horrible ache welled in my chest. I’d known this about him. And yet, I’d jumped in head first.

“After Sara,” he finally said, breaking my tortured silence, “I wasn’t interested in getting close to anyone. At first it was out of bitterness and fear. But then I realized that it was just…easier.”

I held my breath, waiting.

“Given what I am, what I do for the fae, it's just…easier. No expectations, no complications. I can disappear for days tracking a charge and not have to explain myself. Never have to meet the parents or friends. Don’t have to plan date nights or buy flowers and chocolates⁠—”

My body was rigid beneath his touch. These were all things I wanted to have with someone someday. Call me a hopeless romantic, but I wanted my significant other to spoil me with little surprises. I didn’t need them to spend an exorbitant amount of money on me. Just…little things, thoughtful things to show they cared.

Bastian’s movements slowed.

I cleared my throat, trying to inject levity into my tone. “I suppose it’s good to know I shouldn’t expect any roses, then?”

I was so disappointed. In myself, mostly, for getting my hopes up.

Bastian’s hand tightened, gently pulling me back. His mouth came to my ear. “Baby girl. I will buy you a hundred roses if that will make you happy. Or even a thousand. What’s your favorite color?”

My stomach bottomed out. “My… My favorite color?”

“Mmm-hmm”

“You can’t guess?” A hot feeling that felt a lot like hope rekindled in my chest.

“Pink?” I nodded. “I thought so.”

I sucked in a sharp breath because⁠—

“There. It’s not a thousand, but I’m not sure that would be a good idea.”

My vision blurred with tears. I was surrounded by roses. They lay strewn across every surface in the bathroom, even littered over the floor, clustered in vases, everywhere. Countless long stemmed pink roses in various shades. “You… How… What… Did you just…?”

“Don’t worry.” He lips brushed my ear with a gentle kiss. “I paid for them. I keep loose cash around for all those missing ingredients you mentioned. The stuff I might need on occasion.”