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“How am I supposed to get to Castle Brightness?”
“NowthatI can arrange.”
“How?” I pressed my thumbs over my eyebrows, the early morning and long day catching up with me despite the nap.
“Come to bed,” he coaxed, taking me by the hand and drawing me toward it. “You’ll see how well you sleep with me to care for you.”
He sat on the edge of the downy mattress and slid back, pulling me with him. Reluctantly, I went, relieved at least that I didn’t need to use the chamber pot. Magically disappearing waste or not, that would be just a bit too much intimacy. Rogue settled me under the covers with my back to him and he curved his body around me in a shell that did feel oddly safe.
He arranged my hair on the pillow, then slipped his arm around me to cup my breast, so my hard nipple pressed into his palm, making me shiver.
“Shh…” He hummed and I remembered how he’d soothed me the same way once before, even as he held a knife to my throat, ready to kill me if I slipped up. “All is well. Sleep now. Sleep deep, my Gwynn.”
Surprisingly enough, I did.
*
I awoke fromsuch a deep and dreamless sleep that, for a moment, I thought I was back home and that the furry weight nested against me was my cat, Isabel. Without conscious thought, I rubbed her belly fur and Darling rolled lasciviously under my touch, then sent a simultaneously salacious and jealous observation about me having two men in my bed, huffed off said bed and out of the tent. It helped ease the pang of sorrow and guilt I still felt over the cat I’d abandoned.
Opening my eyes and rolling my head on the pillow, I found Rogue’s gaze on me, focused with blue consideration. Sunlight streamed in the skylight flaps and the tent had already grown warm and stuffy.
“It stopped raining.”
“Yes. Good morning, my Gwynn.”
“Hi.”
I felt as morning-after shy as if we had done the deed. Except not nearly as sated. Rogue’s hand rested on my belly, dangerously close to the juncture of my thighs, my nightgown tangled high around them. I wanted to tug it down, but that might draw his attention. Which seemed to be entirely on my mouth at the moment.
“What?” I finally asked.
“I’m deciding if I want our kiss now or if I want to save it for later.”
“I probably have morning breath.”
“Do you think I care for such things?” He caressed my belly, sliding in tantalizing strokes toward my vulnerable sex, clad only in the thin panties I’d wished up.
What I needed was something more like a chastity belt.
Rogue chuckled. “Always fascinating to listen to your mind run. From the quiet of sleep into full-on blazing chatter.”
“You don’t have to listen.” A little stung, and grateful for the mood break, I pulled away and slid off the high bed to the floor, the voluminous gown modestly covering me. Besides, now I really did need that chamber pot. “Can I, um, have a little privacy to get dressed, prepare for the day, that kind of thing?”
With leisurely sensuality, Rogue sat up and stretched, the lean muscles of his arms flexing. His skin looked warm and soft in the morning light—different than in candle glow, but just as tempting. He combed his fingers through his long, inky hair and pulled it back to the nape of his neck, and suddenly it was tied back, sleek, no hair out of place.
“I don’t know why you do things the long way,” he observed. “It’s quite limiting.”
“Force of habit.”
“Habits can be limiting, also.” He slipped off the bed and I noticed he’d at some point changed the black pants into blue silky pajama-type bottoms. He grinned. “Do you like them?”
His morning erection tented the silk quite prominently—or maybe it was the same one from the night before—but I decided to refrain from comment on that.
“I didn’t know it was possible for you wear something besides black.”
“They match my eyes. I notice you like my eyes.” He grinned at me, then pursed his lips at my nightgown. “I, however, do not enjoy that sleep garment. If I give you another, will you wear it?”
My mind went straight to a dream he’d once sent me, where I’d worn a blue lace gown for him—the kind that made you feel even more naked for the wearing it.
