Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
“It will be like waking up in a field of roses.”
Chirp!
My body felt warm, cocooned in arms and legs, but my nose tickled, the diluted aroma of rose perfume and soap coaxing me into consciousness.
“Right? Though be careful, Bitz, you don’t know where that’s been.”
Chirp!
“I did not try to put it up there. Not on purpose.” Opie’s small but loud exclamation fluttered my lids. “It slipped! Soap does that.” He huffed. “A total misunderstanding.”
Chirp!
A groan hummed in my throat, my nostrils itching. I batted at my face, my eyes opening to see Bitzy sitting on the lip of the tub right by my head, her prong fingers covered in rose-scented soap, her eyes wide, trying to look innocent.
“Stop sticking your fingers up my nose,” I grumbled, stretching. Every sore muscle, bruised bone, and bit of chafed skin cried out, bringing a delirious smile to my face.
“I won’t tell her the other places you stuck them.
” Opie skipped up beside her in an old loofah.
Part of it he used as a hat; the rest was cut into a tiny ballerina-type skirt.
The feathers used for pleasure were stuck into the loofah like a headdress, and sex beads hung around his neck.
Bitzy was wearing another set of sex beads as a crown and pleasure feathers for wings.
I didn’t even want to think about where those things had been before they put them on.
“Fishy! So glad we found you. We were worried.” Opie sat down, swinging his legs against the side of the large tub, using his skirt to start scrubbing it.
“And why the hell are you sleeping in a dirty empty tub? Not that I care it’s dirty.
To each their own.” His eyes twitched, moving down to clean another spot.
“Doesn’t bother me at all that you lie in filth. Nope. Not. At. All.”
“Bazdmeg.” The warm, huge form I was spread out over like a blanket moaned, adjusting underneath me, making me feel his hard length press against my hip.
One hand scrubbed at his face, the other rubbing at my ass.
“Now this I didn’t miss.” Warwick’s lids opened, glaring at the two.
“If any fingers were in any holes . . .”
“Please, massive one.” Opie waved him off. “You loved it. Not like your fingers and appendages weren’t in holes too.”
Chirp!
Warwick breathed in, sitting up. He dragged me with him, tipping his head back on the tub we had slept in. The memory of what we did with and without the water hummed my body to life.
He meant it when he said he was nowhere near done with me.
Like he was determined to find where my line was, how far he could push me.
And I met his challenge with my own each time.
I could still taste him on my tongue, feel him inside me, my nails dragging through his hair as his seed branded me like an iron.
His mouth devoured me over and over, his fingers exploring every inch.
Finally, too spent to move, he cleaned me up, drained the tub, and lined it with towels, where he fucked me slow and deep until I passed out.
The bathroom was the only semblance of privacy, and he wasn’t one to have any of those men in the other room watch my pleasure break over me again and again. Though I had no doubt they heard us. There was a high probability the entire place did.
“Have anything to report?” Warwick lifted his head.
“If not, go. I have more holes to stick things in.” His hands gripped my hips, readjusting me on him.
Hunger sizzled my nerves, the feel of his heavy erection pressed into me, making me bite my lip.
One shift of my hips, and he would be inside me, fucking me until I lost consciousness again.
The need to do it commanded most of my thoughts, which is why it took me longer to absorb his remark.
“Report?” Covering my breasts, I turned my head to peer at Opie and Bitzy, then back to the man I was straddling. “What do you mean, report?”
He reached over, grabbing a clean towel off the shelf, and wrapping it around me, taking extra care to knot it right at my breasts.
“When Ash lost you, I figured they could locate you, like last time.” Warwick nodded to the pair. “And when they couldn’t . . .”
“Ohhh, the big bad wolfy went rabid. Destroyed several rooms downstairs.” Opie’s eyes went wide. “Thought he was actually going to eat me.”
Chirp! Bitzy flipped Warwick off.
“And yeah, not in the fun way.”
I cringed, my features wrinkling up, trying to pass over the image in my head.
“I thought it might be HDF.” Warwick’s hands dropped to my thighs, rubbing them absently, like he didn’t want to stop touching me. “Sub-fae could easily slip in there.”
“And spy.” I blinked at the revelation. Of course.
Warwick huffed a dry laugh. “As long as your spies don’t get distracted by everything sparkly.”
“Oh, my broomsticks.” Opie’s eyes glazed over. “That closet was like a treasure chest . . . a dream come to life. No one could be there and not be dazzled out of their wits.”
“Wits?” Warwick sputtered. “You have to have those in order to lose them. You were gone for a day and came back telling me about diamond-encrusted shoes.”
“Oh, those were soooo pretty.”
Chirp.
“I will neither deny nor admit I licked them.”
Chirp.
“I did not do that. Though I saw stars like the time the vacuum hose fell down my pants.”
Chirp.
“It did too fall down there. It was an accident.”
“Oh, my gods. Please stop.” I waved my hand, getting back on topic.
“Diamond shoes? Are you talking about Rebeka’s?
” She was the only one I knew who had pure diamond heels, like she stepped out of one of those old fairytales.
It was a gift from Istvan after rumors of one of his many affairs spread within the high circles.
She wore them as a power play when he started to deviate again.
A subtle reminder. “Why were you in her bedroom?” She didn’t even share one with Istvan.
It was usual for the top wealthy tier not to share a bedroom with their spouse.
Got uncomfortable when trying to sneak in a lover.
“I wasn’t!”
Chirp!
“Okay, I might have been.” Opie shrugged, going back to cleaning. “Not like she was there, and her dresses were too beautiful not to drool over before they got packed up.”
“Packed up?” My head jerked with confusion. “What do you mean?”
“The room was filled with boxes, and some lady dressed in a maid’s outfit was storing all the exquisite stuff away.
Such a crime to hide artwork like that. Whoever wore them is a goddess.
The sparkles, the gems, the fabric . . .
” Opie groaned, making me flinch again. “To. Die. For. The costumes I could design from just one.”
“I don’t care about fuckin’ dresses,” Warwick grumbled while my mind glitched over Opie’s claim.
Why would Rebeka be packing all her stuff away? It didn’t make sense. And like Opie, Rebeka would never let one of those expensive dresses touch something as dirty as a cardboard box. I knew how precise and stringent she was when they even were carried out to be cleaned.
“Anything else to report?” Warwick motioned them to continue.
“No.”
Chirp!
“Oh right, yeah, something about patrolling the streets for the hideout of some fugitives, blah, blah . . .” Opie rolled his eyes. “Boring.”
“Patrol?” Warwick growled. “And you didn’t think to lead with that?”
“Why?” Opie blinked. “I try not to start off the morning with dreariness.”
“You really are the worst spies ever,” Warwick grunted. “Fucking you later. Count on it, princess.” He grunted in my ear. Shifting me, he stood, climbing out of the tub. Dammit. I was hoping for a morning orgasm to start my day.
“Whoa, whoa, bad wolfy! Be careful where you point that thing.” Opie held up his hands. “That thing is a grenade launcher.”
Warwick didn’t even pause as I watched his firm, naked ass march for the door, swinging it open. “Ash! Get the fuck up.”
“Now there’s the way to start off the morning.” Opie sighed dreamily.
“Yeaaahhh.” I sighed.
Chiiiiirp.
“You aren’t going.” His deep, commanding tone suggested the topic was over. “That’s final.”
Cool and calm, I tipped my head, an eyebrow curving up.
“Don’t give me that look.” Warwick strapped his cleaver to his back.
“I’m just looking at an arrogant male who thinks he has the right to order me around.” I crossed my arms over the worn sweater Rosie had brought, my tone staying neutral.
“You two are the most known faces out there.” Warwick motioned to me and Killian, who took the order to stay back a lot better than I had. He sat dressed in items from the same pile, sipping his coffee.
Everyone was up and dressed, though no one in the room was happy with us. They complained they didn’t get any sleep and were prevented from using the toilet. Ash ended up going downstairs and taking out his frustration on someone else.
“And yours is not?” I gestured to Warwick. “You’re more recognizable than I am, just by your frame.”
“She has a point.” Ash shrugged. “Sloane and I are the least identifiable. We could check things out.”
“No.” Warwick bristled, his gaze sliding to the guard. “We can do a fast sweep and be back.”
“I need to get word to my uncle. Let him know I’m okay.” It felt like a thorn wiggling in my gut. Some of the things Opie said were not sitting right. I had the niggling feeling something was off, and it made me anxious to check in with my family. Andris had to be flipping out.
“I’m going,” I stated firmly. “Plus, they might know something.”
“We can’t chance it.” Warwick shook his head. “You seem to be taken every time you step outside now.”
“Not every time.”
“I’ll go with her.” Killian set his cup down.
“What?” We all turned to him in surprise.
“Might be odd when a dead fae lord visits an insurgent base,” Warwick clipped.