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Ren claps like an excited kid, and both Rook and Charlie hug me.
“Great,” Terrance says. “Now that that’s all settled, let’s get dinner started. I’m starving, and Nora hasn’t eaten in over a day.”
I grin at my grumpy troll. “You got it, T-man.”
The guys file out of my room, and Rook holds back to help me out of bed. As soon as I’m on my feet, Rook pulls me into his arms and plants a deep kiss on me. I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him back with just as much need. When we finally break apart, he’s looking at me with glowing eyes. His wolf is on the surface. “I’ve half a mind to keep you in here all to myself for a while.”
I comb my fingers through his hair and smile at my wolf. “You know Terrance will just come and get me if we don’t go out there.”
Rook sighs, and the light dims from his eyes as his wolf settles. He gives me another small kiss. “Soon.”
I take his hand. “Yes, soon. I promise. But right now I want to go check on Illren. Tell the others I’ll be right there?”
Rook kisses me again. “If I have to. Don’t be long.”
I give him a squeeze, then he wanders into the kitchen to help get dinner started. I make my way to the end of the hall and only hesitate a moment before pushing Illren’s door open. I don’t need to wake him. I only need to see him, to make sure he’s really okay.
Surprisingly, Illren isn’t in bed. The bed has been made and the door to the bathroom is closed. The shower is running. I should go back out to the kitchen and help with dinner. Instead, take the opportunity to look around. My adrenaline spikes as I enter the room and shut the door behind me. There’s something a little bit thrilling about entering the assassin’s personal space.
The room is decorated like all the others in the den, with a night table on either side of a king-size bed and a dresser with a mirror over it. Unlike all the other rooms, Illren has done nothing to make the space his own. I’m not really all that surprised. He seems the type to live sparsely and not care about decoration. But I’m sure his closet is full of weapons. Probably under his bed and in all the drawers, too.
The only thing in the whole room that has a personal feel to it is a single framed 4x6 photo sitting on his dresser. I gasp when I see myself. I’m standing behind the bar at Underworld, laughing at something Wulf said. In the picture, I have no idea my photo is being taken. I don’t recall the moment. It could have been any number of a hundred moments at the club. I pick up the photo to get a better look. It’s a beautiful photo, and I look so happy.
“I love your smile,” Illren’s soft voice murmurs from directly behind me.
I nearly jump out of my skin and almost drop the picture, but Illren catches it and places it carefully back on the dresser. Not only did I not hear him come out of the bathroom, I didn’t even notice that he’d walked up right behind me. And I’m standing in front of a damn mirror! “You are entirely too stealthy,” I say, clutching my poor shocked heart.
Illren ignores my comment. His eyes lock on mine in the mirror and fill with a heat that wakes up my body. He grips my shoulders and presses his chest to my back. Heat radiates off him, and I realize he’s not wearing a shirt. In fact, he’s in nothing but a towel. “Sorry,” I say. “I didn’t mean to intrude. I was just checking on you. I’ll go and let you get dressed.”
I don’t even get to turn away because Illren doesn’t let me. He holds me in front of his dresser, his body pressed to mine, and stares at me in the mirror. I gasp when he ducks his head and brushes his lips up the side of my neck. A violent shiver rocks me. There’s so much sexual tension in the air I could probably swim in it.
“I’m so sorry I hurt you,” I say, my voice shaky from the feel of his hot breath on my skin.
“You are forgiven, Mistress.”
“It’s Nora,” I correct as my eyes fall shut.
“Open your eyes,” Illren demands with startling force.
My eyes fly open, and I meet his heated gaze in the mirror once again. “Keep your gaze on me.”
Something in me thrills at the command.
Illren’s hands slide down my arms from my shoulders to my wrists. He takes my hands and places them on the dresser, as if trying to make me brace myself. The demand to not move them is implied in his stare.
Next, he moves his hands around my waist and slides his fingers over the silky nightgown I’m wearing. It’s then that I realize that I’ve come to his room in lingerie and that he’s in nothing but a towel.
My pulse quickens.
“I like this,” he says, grabbing the hem of the short nightgown. He lifts it slowly and grabs the underwear I have on underneath.
I swallow thickly, loving the feel of his body pressed against my back and the promise of his hands on me. I could stop this. He would let me. But I don’t want to. His touch is lighting a fire in me and building an ache that I need him to soothe.
In one rough move, he rips the panties away from my body and I gasp. Then I hear his towel drop to the floor.
I stare at him with wide eyes, and my heart leaps in my chest as I realize what he plans to do. I cling to the dresser with a white-knuckled grip, nervous with anticipation. “Keep your eyes on mine,” he murmurs.
I meet his gaze, and we just stare at one another. His eyes demand my trust. I cry out, startled, but also with pleasure when he takes me by surprise. He isn’t gentle, but I wouldn’t expect him to be. Illren has never treated me with kid gloves. He’s never let my fear hold him back. He’s always pushed my boundaries, certain that I’m capable of more than I give myself credit for.
