Chapter 23
Twenty-Three
Lambert
The sweet high I’m riding as I return to the Arcanaeum makes me feel like I’m floating.
Honestly? I doubted I could do it. Sure, I knew from watching the Arcane University of Oceania’s other games that one of their reapers was weaker on his right side, but it was a fluke that the gamma exploded as he dived to hit it back.
I really hope they can regrow his arm…
Probably unsportsmanlike to take advantage, but eh, if he were in my shoes I’m sure he’d do the same.
I grin as my gaze lands on the books that have been arranged so the spines spell ‘Well Done.’
“Thanks, man!” I offer the building a high five, which it accepts by zooming a book up to smack against my palm. A second later, the tome drops. I catch it, glancing at the title, hoping for a little more praise. “Wait, dude. Come on, I don’t need this.”
Who on earth wrote Magic in the Bedroom: A Guide for Male Arcanists with Performance Anxiety, anyway?
Eh. Some dude called Shane Bruce, apparently.
Then again…Kyrith is special. Maybe I should’ve done some research? This book will take me hours to get through, even if there are pictures.
The shelves around rustle with almost-laughter, and I shake my head. I don’t have performance anxiety, but just in case, I cast a breath-freshening scrap from my pocket.
Maybe I should’ve showered? I was so excited about winning the game that—
“Lambert.”
I walk straight into her without warning. She must’ve just appeared or something, because I barely have time to reach out and steady her as she stumbles back. She’s still wearing my jacket, and the sight of it makes my chest all glowy.
The only thing better would be having her at the game with it on.
“Sorry.” I offer her my best smile, and then grimace as I realise I’m still holding that damned book, and now Kyrith is looking at it.
“I don’t have performance anxiety!” I blurt.
“Not that there’s any shame in struggling with erectile dysfunction.
I’m actually one of the founding members of the UAA Men-Tal Health Coffee Mornings.
We do loads of work to decrease shame and stigma surrounding men’s mental, physical, and sexual health on campus, but my erections are not dysfunctional. ”
Kyrith, who has gone stock-still during my little word-vomit, is still blinking at me in shock, so I hastily add, “I swear, I only have this because the Arcanaeum was teasing me.”
“Really?” The dry disbelief in her voice is cutting, and I look around at the shelves.
“Come on, dude,” I beg the Arcanaeum. “Help me out?”
In answer, the cheeky building remains silent. I suppose I should be grateful it didn’t dump more books on me.
Kyrith’s hands—which landed on my chest when I crashed into her—run over my pecs, petting me with a kind of absent-minded appreciation that derails my panicked thoughts.
“Lambert?”
“Yes, boss?”
“Get in the shower.”
Fuck. Does she know what that tone does to me? I’m pretty sure my cock just saluted and said, ‘yes, ma’am.’
“Are you planning on joining me?” I ask hopefully.
“Maybe.” She draws the word out, and I grin, then throw her over my shoulder. “Lambert Winthrop! Manhandling the Librarian is—”
“Not against the rules!”
Hopefully she doesn’t make it one, because I love how she melts in my arms. Watching her lose just a hint of the reserve she wraps around herself like a shield is a tiny intimacy I won’t ever take for granted.
She huffs out an amused breath as I jog down the corridor to the bathroom. “I didn’t realise it would be an issue.”
Because no one has manhandled her in five-hundred years. I grin, enjoying the knowledge that I’m probably the first.
“Hey, were showers invented when you were alive?”
“If this is a prod at my age…”
“No! I mean. I just wanted to know if you’d ever… I dunno, I just thought it might be our thing.”
I really, really want us to have a thing. Kyrith’s on her way to building six relationships, and it’s my job to make sure that ours always feels special. I’ll always provide whatever she needs from me. Smiles. Hugs. Laughter.
I’m good at those things, and no stranger to playing to my strengths.
Hopefully, one of the others is good at time management and writing professional emails without emojis in them.
Kyrith hums under her breath, and I open my mouth to reassure her it’s okay if she wants to pick a different thing, but she cuts me off.
“No. Showers weren’t common in my time. Given your propensity for sweating—”
“Hey! Sweating is manly!”
“I believe showers may very well become ‘our thing.’”
My cheeks actually hurt, I’m smiling so much. “Are you going to join me this time?”
“Perhaps.” I can hear the coy little smile in her voice, and I push through the bathroom door, trying my best not to knock her head on the frame, then stop dead in the doorway.
“What is it?” Kyrith’s hands press into my back as she contorts herself to look.
“Did you upgrade the bathroom?”
I lower her to her feet and approach the grand round tub full to the brim with bubbles, then turn only to find the door behind us gone.
Kyrith takes in the room, noting the huge window beyond the tub and the plants everywhere. This room must be inspired by Botany Hall or something. Terracotta pots are crammed along shelves and hanging from the ceiling, the ferns and vines dipping towards the swirling water.
It’s pretty. The boss has great taste.
“It seems the Library has decided you’re sharing my bathroom now.”
Is she happy or mad about that? I tilt her chin up to mine, trying to read her. Don’t get me wrong, this is the swankiest bath I’ve ever seen, but I don’t want to invade her space if she doesn’t want me here.
“Want to go someplace else?”
I’m not going to lie, the floating multicoloured wisplights and rose petals scattered around are super romantic, but if she’s not in the mood…
“No. I should’ve expected this.” She waves me over to the bath with an amused shake of her head. “I’m not sure whether to be flattered or insulted that the Arcanaeum feels the need to assist me with seducing you.”
She doesn’t need help, but I don’t tell her that. Instead, I grab the hem of my top, dragging it over my head with a grin. As soon as the fabric falls to the floor, Kyrith’s eyes are right there, tracing the lines of ink across my abs, and I grin.
She might have me by the balls, but she looks at me like a kid in a candy shop, all overwhelmed and unsure what she wants to try first.
“Are you getting in with all those clothes on?” I ask, hooking my thumbs in the waistband of my shorts as I toe off my shoes.
My words break the spell she’s under. Her jaw snaps shut, and she levels one of those imperious stares my way.
“Presumptuous.”
“Nope, just hopeful.” I slip my shorts down, smile tugging wider as she tracks the motion, big brown eyes lingering at the erection straining towards her.
My hand falls to my cock and strokes once, and she raises one eyebrow, folding her arms in a way that pushes her breasts up.
“I didn’t say you could do that.” My hand drops like I’ve been burned, and she shakes her head. “In the bath. Now.”
She’s already shrugging my letterman jacket from her shoulders and hanging it neatly on the towel rail. Those clever fingers head to the buttons at the bottom of her shirt, only to pause as I step into the water.
Yep, her eyes are glued to my ass. Who can blame her? It’s cute.
I love that I can distract her this much, but I want her undressed more than I want my next breath, so I dunk my whole body under the bubbles, ignoring the slightly too-hot temperature of the water.
“Ohhh,” I groan as I come up. “Did you chuck restorative salts into this?”
I wasn’t looking forward to being stiff all day tomorrow, and now I don’t have to be.
But my gratitude dries up, along with the inside of my mouth, as I catch sight of Kyrith in nothing more than a corset and stockings. Behind her, the mirror set into the wall gives me a perfect view of her round ass.
Fuuuuck.
Kyrith’s gaze is haughty and smouldering as she regards me. It takes everything I have to rest my arms on the rim of the tub on either side of me and pretend that I’m not three seconds away from begging her to remove those last pieces of fabric and join me.
On second thought…
I lean over and grab her by the waist, dragging her towards the bath and sloshing water across the rust-coloured floor tiles in the process.
“Lambert!”
I love it when she gets all flustered and outraged. “You were taking too long.”
My hands fall to her butt and squeeze, before running down the backs of her legs and up again.
“You’re—”
Her words cut off on a squeak as I lift her into the tub with me.
Yes. Slippery, mostly naked Kyrith is just as glorious as I knew she would be.
She’s straddling my abs, her pussy inches from my straining dick.
Her breasts heave where they’re pressed against me, constrained by the corset, and I want to trace the droplets of water running across her skin with my tongue.
“My eyes are up here.”
“I know,” I promise, meeting them. “But you’re overdressed.”
“Whose fault is that?” Her corset unlaces itself with torturous slowness.
Kyrith waits for it to float aside and drop to the floor with a wet splat before she settles herself more securely against me.
The tiniest hint of a smile plays at the corner of her lips, and I kiss it away without thinking about it. Magic. It’s so corny, but I swear, every time we kiss I become even more certain that one day I’m going to marry this woman.
The only remaining question is how long it will take to get the rest of her grooms to the altar with me. Well, that and what colour scheme she wants. I’m partial to a nice cornflower blue. I think it would really complement her complexion and Leo’s eyes.
Her fingers pet the tattoos on my chest as she devours my mouth in quick clever strokes of her tongue that travel straight down to my cock.
But when I go to lift the world’s most glorious breasts out of the bubbles so I can show her how much I absolutely love them, she stops me.
Her hands pin mine to the edges of the tub, the haughtiness deepening to a heated command.
“Keep them there,” she orders. “This is your moment, after all.”
Pampered by my girl? My head tips back as one of those hands descends beyond the waterline and grips my cock.
Shit. Fuck. God. Finally.
“Boss.” The word is a gasped prayer.