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43
FINLEY
Ishould be used to this by now. Corvan’s faster than the spell of the moonlight; faster than wind and spirits.
He blasts back into his castle and steals through the halls, managing to evade people entirely.
There’s no sign of the undead attackers.
There’s just stillness and silence. Perhaps the soldiers have retreated to nurse their wounds. Perhaps the servants are bunkering down, fearful of the next onslaught.
He brings me to a large room, where the moonlight filters through tall windows, heavy drapes pulled back to reveal the brilliant night sky. This room is similar to my own quarters; large and high-ceilinged, with stone floors dressed in opulent rugs and a fire smoldering in the hearth. A large, impeccably made wooden four-poster bed is the only furnishing. There isn’t even a couch or a table.
He sets me down on my feet in the center of the room. Breathing heavily, I can’t say a word. I’m simply astonished.
“My quarters,” Corvan says simply.
Then he proceeds to undress, wrinkling his nose as he strips off his jacket, shirt, trousers, and boots. He bundles the clothes in his arms and walks across the room, dumping them in a round wicker basket.
“The stench of battle lingers,” he growls. “Even more so when the slain are the cursed undead.”
I sense anger in his voice, even though his back is to me. I can’t stop staring at his perfectly naked form; at his rippling shoulders and back, vampire-alabaster and marked with old scars. His ass is sculpted perfection. His legs are impressively powerful.
My breath catches, and words fail me.
“You should undress, Finley, and come to the baths with me.” He turns and looks me up and down, his crimson eyes smoldering.
“H-here?”
“Yes, here.”
“You have your own private baths?”
“You think that we northerners are so backward we don’t have piped water and private bathchambers?” Now he’s teasing me.
I don’t tell him that in Ruen, we all have to go across the grounds and bathe in the communal bathhouse, which is shared between my family and the servants.
“I didn’t say anything like that,” I huff. I turn away, unable to look at him for even a moment longer, for fear I’ll lose all of my senses.
I need to take back control. Puthimon the back foot for once.
So I start to strip, peeling away my jacket and my tunic and shirt, kicking off my boots and slipping off my trousers.
Until I’m standing there in just my silken pink underwear, then even that is discarded, dropped to the floor amidst all my other clothes.
It’s a little cold in here.
The air brushes against my bare skin, raising goosebumps. My nipples are hard with cold and arousal. Suddenly, his hands are on my back, and his lips are pressing against my neck, just above the hollow of my collarbone.
He really moves sofast.
I didn’t even hear him.
If anything, the goosebumps on my skin intensify, but for different reasons this time.
“Gods,you’re beautiful. Close your eyes, Finley. Let me lead you.”
“You promised a bath,” I say.
