19. Kizzi
CHAPTER 19
Kizzi
I laid in the inn’s surprisingly comfortable bed, staring up at the dark ceiling.
My body was exhausted, but my mind was painfully awake. My thoughts couldn’t decide where to settle.
Speaking of my younger years had resurfaced memories that I preferred to keep buried. I didn’t like to think of my Ma and Pa, whoever they were. They were witches of some sort, that much was evident in my magical abilities. But their identities were a mystery. They had left me behind in Moonvale with nothing but the clothes on my back—not even a letter. They hadn’t spoken to anyone, either. Nobody knew where I came from.
Ani found me there, sitting on that park bench. She didn’t ask a single question, she just saw me, offered her hand, and guided me to her cottage.
I also thought about Tandor, his body sprawled out on the bed next to mine, breathing rhythmically. Spending time with him was much more enjoyable than I expected it to be. I always knew he was friendly, and he was easy to look at, of course, but I was surprised by how easy it was to talk to him. How natural. I thought about the way he placed his hand on my shoulder— how he somehow knew I needed the comforting touch at that moment.
I couldn’t help but wonder how much of his kindness was due to the love potion, and that thought made my heart sink in my chest with a strange wave of disappointment.
I wanted him to be kind to me because he chose to, not just because he was magically forced.
And that thought was… worrisome.
I also thought about the jar tucked away in my bag. I had brought Hex with me to the diner, too afraid to leave them alone at the inn. I didn’t want them to throw any magical tantrums. They had insisted on coming with me on this journey—tucking themself into the jar before I left my shop. They snapped and spat at me until I relented. Hex was now idly sitting in my bag, alarmingly still and well behaved.
I was new to the whole familiar thing, but mine felt a little too clingy.
I was waiting for the other boot to drop.
The tiny room was pitch dark. There was one small window, and it was covered with wooden slats, blocking out the moonlight that might have crept in.
I stared at the ceiling, praying for sleep to pull me under. Tandor’s deep even breaths should have been soothing, but they just made me antsy. Fidgety. Like my skin was too tight for my bones.
I should have brought some sleep tonics with me…
Even the noises from outside were unfamiliar. The chirping insects were not the same as those who inhabited Moonvale, and the comforting scurrying of critters was missing.
I could hear hints of other folk, too. Boots on the cobblestones outside. A laugh from a room down the hall. The creak of wooden stairs.
It was all overwhelming.
I wanted to crawl out of bed, crawl outside, and soak up some fresh air, but I knew that wouldn’t sooth me. The air was too different. Too dry and warm. Too heavily laden with the smells of a bustling town.
I was used to traveling. I traveled far and wide to find ingredients for my potions. But that was usually alone, or with Fiella. And Fiella was a comfortable presence—I was more familiar with her breathing than I was with my own.
I resorted to assembling potions in my head. I closed my eyes and let the familiar pattern tug my thoughts away from their swirling maelstrom.
I wonder what mixture would be helpful for calming a troubled mind. A potion, probably. With a liquid base. Honey. Honey is calming, rejuvenating. With chamomile flowers. And maybe some bark of an ever-tree from the mountains. If I boil it long enough, it will lose most of its pain-relieving properties but will relieve tension instead…
Darkness closed around me, slowly sweeping me away to blissful nothingness.
A large, strong hand slid down my back in a comforting caress. The touch heated my blood, and a pleasant shiver traveled down my spine. I hummed happily.
A dreamy, blissful warmth surrounded me. I was more comfortable than I had been in ages. The smell of warm rain curled around me. I snuggled in deeper, craving more of that warmth, and more of that lovely smell. My cheek pressed into firm, bulky muscle.
The hand slid up my back, slowly, inching over every divot of my spine. My nightgown was smooth and light and did nothing to diminish the warmth of that touch—it practically burned me. The hand reached the base of my neck and paused before sliding into the roots of my hair. Strong fingers massaged my scalp in slow circular motions. A quiet groan slipped out of my mouth before I could stop it.
I kept my eyes closed, soaking up the bliss of the moment.
I reached out a curious hand and my fingers brushed against smooth, hot skin. I let my fingers trail up, up, up, over the soft ridges of a ribcage, over strong, firm pectoral muscles, to a juncture where neck met shoulder. I lightly dug my fingers into the taut muscle there, experimenting. The muscle softened slightly in response.
The fingers in my scalp continued their magical movements, while another hand tentatively brushed over my hip. The fingers slid up, ghosting over my waist before curling around to the small of my back.
My pulse quickened in my veins.
I tossed my knee over strong hips, soaking up as much of that warming touch as possible.
My fingers slid up a strong neck, over a defined jaw, slipping onto a pointed ear. I tugged lightly—curious.
A groan sounded in the darkness beside me. I smiled wryly.
The fingers massaging my scalp clenched gently and tugged, lifting my head. Warm breath caressed my face. I relished it—the proximity. Knowing another was so close that I could almost breathe them in.
The hand on my back slid lower, ghosting over the curve of my ass and settling on my calf. Strong fingers curled, encircling my leg.
I leaned in, closer, slipping my hand behind a strong neck.
Lips whispered against mine, almost touching but not quite. I shivered.
The hands on me tightened, grasping urgently.
The lips surged forward, capturing my mouth in a searing kiss. I moaned against the onslaught. The kiss deepened—a tongue teased at the entrance of my mouth. I shifted my weight, pulling myself onto the deliciously warm, deliciously comfortable body.
I settled on top, my hips aligning perfectly with a massive, burning hardness. Heat flooded my core. I suddenly felt terribly, urgently empty .
“Kizzi.”
I deepened the kiss further, my tongue dancing with another, hands gripping flesh. More. More .
“Kizzi.” Louder, this time.
I sat upright and sighed, my head lolling back blissfully as I ground my hips against the delicious hardness beneath me.
“Tandor,” I breathed.
“Kizzi!”
My eyes snapped open.
Blood thundered in my veins, blurring my thoughts. Remnants of sunlight tried to force their way in the window, but they couldn’t make it through the wooden slats. The room was dark.
The body beneath me was perfectly still—practically vibrating with tension.
I froze. The arousal flooding my veins just a moment ago drifted away like a cloud of smoke.
I took stock of the situation, suddenly snapping back to reality.
I was in Sunhaven.
I was in an inn, a room, a bed with Tandor.
And I was shamelessly straddling the poor orc.
I could hardly see him in the shadowy darkness of the room. Tandor laid perfectly still beneath me, his breaths sawing in and out of his mouth. His arms were splayed wide, his hands curled into tight fists.
And he was impossibly, desperately hard.
“Oh, fates.” I whispered.
He gulped audibly, and then forced out a strangled laugh. “Well, good morning to you too.”
“Fuck!”
“I’m not complaining or anything, but…” he tapped my bare knee with the tip of his finger. “I’m trapped.”
Mortified, I scrambled off his lap and onto my side of the bed. I hastily straightened my gown and yanked the hem down as far as it would go.
He rose to a sitting position then awkwardly adjusted himself in his thin sleep pants. I tried not to look. I really did. But I couldn’t help myself.
My eyes widened at the impressive bulge in his pants. I knew he felt large when I was on top of him but… wow .
I was grateful for the low lighting. I silently prayed that his vision wasn’t keen enough to see the flush surely staining my skin.
He chuckled quietly, and my gaze flicked to his. I found him already watching me. “Dreaming about me, princess? I’m flattered.”
I tried to laugh, but it came out choked. “I wasn’t…”
“Oh, was this you making a move on me, then? I’m certainly not saying no, why don’t you come back?—”
I threw a pillow at his head, smacking him right in the face. He laughed louder.
“Dreaming.” I gritted out. “Just dreaming.”
Curse that love potion… if he wasn’t drugged I would… I would…
What would I have done? Would I have crawled back onto his lap to finish what my dream had started? Would I have shoved my undergarments aside and seated myself on his hard, massive cock? The thought reignited the heat in my blood.
I absolutely would have.
I shook my head, struggling to clear my thoughts.
It was no use imagining. I couldn’t throw myself at a man enchanted with a love potion. That just—that just wasn’t right. No matter how warm and comfortable and delicious smelling he was.
Or how much he clearly wanted me to. His body, at least.
Just the love potion working its way through his system, I reminded myself.
I ran my hands through my hair, smoothing back the snarled curls.
“Must’ve been a nice dream,” he mumbled as he set a pillow over his lap.
“Shut up. We will never speak of this again. Deal?” I begged.
“Oh, but it’s such a good story!”
“Never. Again.”
He held his hands up in mock surrender. “Fine, fine, this never happened. Now, would you like to use the washroom first, or shall I?”