Page 117 of The Silversmith

“Ella,” he warned as I guided his large, calloused hands to my ribs.

I took my bottom lip between my teeth. His gaze—heated and hungry—darted to my mouth. I let my thighs open so there was nothing between us but the cloth of my nightgown and my undergarments.

A deep, guttural sound formed in his throat, and I could tell by the tense air that passed through his lips that I was doing something right. Or… wrong. Tempting him to dangerous limits. My tongue wetted my bottom lip, and he followed the motion like he wanted to worship it. Worship me.

“Now who’s being cruel?” he growled through gritted teeth.

This was the power I really wanted: the ability to bring this man to his knees with desire. No other man. Only him. I didn’t care about manipulating fire or wind, communing with the earth’s forces, or whatever else I was supposed to be able to do.

He removed his hands from my ribs, careful not to brush his thumbs against either breast no matter how I ached for him. He cupped my face in his hands instead. I released a sigh, deciding as long as he was touching me, I was happy.

“Don’t you think you deserve it, me being cruel?” I whispered. “Just a little?”

He hummed, the sound low in his chest. “Time to go to sleep, Ella.”

But even as he said it, he wove his fingers through my hair. I let my face tilt up toward him, at his complete mercy. He could overpower me, kill me or kiss me, do whatever he wanted with me. But I was not afraid. He would protect me from everything and everyone, at all costs. Even himself.

He shifted, and my eyes widened at the sudden realization that he was hard against my thigh. I sucked in a tattered breath and met his gaze—glassy and overcome with lust that he no longer tried to hide from me.

The lust he refused to act on.

“Yes,” he hissed out a low chuckle when he realized I felt him. “By now, it should come as no surprise that I can’t control my cock around you.” His mouth curved into that devilish smile. “I know you felt me last night, Ella.”

“Difficult not to,” I breathed.

“Mmm.” He hummed through clenched teeth. “I’d ask for forgiveness, but that would imply it won’t happen again, and I don’t enjoy lying to you.” He caressed my chin between his thumb and forefinger. “But I can control myself.” He pressed a chaste kiss to my cheek and pulled away. “Go to sleep.” His gaze was stern as he covered me to my waist with blankets, but his voice was gentle. “Now.” I watched while he poured himself a few finger-lengths of Damond’s liquor and tossed back the whole glass.

“Will you come to bed?” My eyes and heart were hopeful when he looked at me and didn’t immediately object.

His hand flexed like it had a mind of its own while he contemplated.

“No funny business,” I muttered, fidgeting with the edge of the plain-gray quilt in my lap. Funny business—as Gemma had once called it. But the words sounded silly on my lips. “I promise.”

That handsome half-smile lit up his face. His broad shoulders relaxed, and a light chuckle rumbled in his chest. He unlaced his boots and motioned for me to make room. Happy to comply, I shifted farther beneath the covers. But instead of laying on his back, he positioned me to face away and slid into bed behind me.

Straight to spooning tonight, then. He would hear no complaints from me.

His warm, soothing lips kissed my temple three times as he curled his body around mine. “Sweet dreams, Ella.”

I sucked in a breath at the feeling of his arousal—massive, even constrained by his pants—against my backside.

All night long, his desire for my body remained apparent. But all night long, he just held me.

Chapter twenty-eight

Relief washed over me when morning came and his warm body was still wrapped around me beneath the covers.

“Good morning.” His deep timbre resonated delightfully against my back, followed by a long, quiet inhale.

“Are you smelling me?” I giggled, stomach fluttering so violently I breathed deeply to settle it.

“No.” But I could feel him smiling into my hair.

I snorted. “What do I smell like?”

“Strawberries.” His lack of hesitation plastered a stupid grin on my face. “And the sun.”

I giggled again. “Well, what does the sun smell like?”