10. Harven #2
Once the door rattles shut, she leans back. Her tan skin sparkles like a jewel. She glows brighter than the moon. She is somehow even lovelier when there’s an amused set to her brow.
As much as I loved her fire, I’m finding her gentleness just as appealing.
“I didn’t expect you to do that,” she admits.
“You are my mate.” I wait for her to refute the claim, but she merely inclines her head. “And you are more important to me than anyone.”
Her eyes turn knowing as more charming color crawls up the side of her delicate neck.
“Because of the curse?”
My tentacle glides along her bare calf. The suckers ache to leave their marks behind.
“Not entirely. I want—I need—you to be happy. Preferably with me.” Her citrus scent deepens.
“I made a terrible mess of things, Eve. I should’ve acted with more compassion—given you space.
I let the joy of finding you blind me. I didn’t take into account what you’d been through, and instead thought only of my selfish needs.
I wanted you so much. More than I’ve ever wanted anything. ”
The flesh of my face feels like it’s baking beneath the sun. Her blue eyes stare into the depths of my soul. I beseech the gods to let her see something redeemable.
My mate. The only one I’ll ever get to claim.
“You agreeing to eat with me is a gift, Eve. I thank you.”
I can’t resist leaving a soft kiss on the back of her hand. My mate sighs as I savor the feeling of her against my lips. I release her hand with a firm squeeze. Eve’s eyes glow with delight as her bowl of steaming stew is delivered.
The scent is off-putting, but Eve inhales it greedily. She’s practically salivating over the discolored broth. How interesting.
Lifting her spoon, she blows on a heaping spoonful.
I don’t have the heart to tell her what manner of bottom-feeders are in it. If she enjoys it, that’s all that matters. She moans around her bite, delight dancing over her gorgeous face.
Have I told her how beautiful I find her? I feel the need to tell her again when she extends her spoon toward me.
“Have you ever tried the stew?” I shake my head. “It’s delicious.”
“It’s for the servants.”
“And me,” she adds.
“And you,” I agree. “If you enjoy it, Eve, that’s all that matters.”
“Do you want to try a spoonful?” she asks, dipping the silver utensil back into the bowl.
I wrinkle my nose, but Eve’s delight only grows. She fishes out a pale piece of crustacean and holds it out to me.
“Come on,” she urges. “One bite. It might surprise you.”
I’m glad my council has been dismissed.
The king eating the servant’s stew at a human's behest would surely inspire more plots to overthrow me. I can’t bring myself to care. Not when the chance to put my mouth on something Eve has touched is on offer.
Leaning forward, I accept the bite. The weak broth is spiced with low-quality seasonings to mask the meat's fishy flavor. I hide my disgust and swallow dutifully.
“Well?”
Reaching for my wine, I wash away the foul taste.
“If you like it, Eve. So do I.”
It’s the right answer to give. My mate rewards me with a giggle.
“I didn’t know a king could be so agreeable. If this is the new attitude you’re taking when it comes to our relationship, there might just be hope for us.”
An easiness settles in between us.
Warmth envelopes my aching heart as she tucks into her meal. I could spend eternity like this. Just watching her eat and breathing in her scent. I’ve never felt more at peace. A restlessness I’ve carried with me for centuries has finally calmed into a gentle wave.
My tentacles are more demanding. A few prod carefully at her feet and skim over her delicious toes. Two trail the edge of the table, testing how close they can get before she notices. Eve bestows them a curious smile, which they preen under.
“How do your tentacles work?” she asks. “Can you manipulate them?”
I nod.
“They answer to me. I can move them as I would my arms, but they have their own motives. The tentacles are connected to the deepest recesses of my mind. A more primal part of me.”
One slithers towards her, braver than the others.
It’s the smallest, with a large white scar marring the top and injuring one of its suckers. It stops just beside her palm. Eve eyes it curiously, running a short nail over the tip.
It’s like she’s stroking my cock. My whole body tightens at her curious touch.
She’s ignorant of my distress as she smiles down at the tentacle.
“What happened to you?” she asks, tracing faintly over the scar.
Opening her palm, the tentacle nuzzles into her soft hand.
I don’t need to command it. It’s doing exactly what my entire body wants—getting as close to Eve as possible. She caresses it softly, cooing at it as if it were a small pet and not something capable of strangling a fully grown male.
“That one was injured in the duel with my brothers for the throne. It’s weaker than the rest.”
Eve shoots me a glance of mock-reproach. She covers the tip with her other hand, stroking it softly. Guiding it up, she nestles it near her racing heart.
“Don’t listen to him,” she whispers to my tentacle. “You are just as cool as the others.”
The muscles of my face pull. It’s an odd sensation as I’ve hardly ever made this expression over the centuries. I’m smiling.
Smiling like a fool as I watch my mate soothe my injured tentacle. She is marvelous, my Eve. The words to describe her haven’t been invented yet.