Chapter 36
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
ARKEN
Oh, and tell me what you’re wearing while you’re at it.
This fucking bastard.
I lingered in bed, sipping on warm tea and missing Kieran so bad that it hurt, still utterly incensed with myself for letting my silly little insecurities keep me away from this man.
It was just one night. I would see him tomorrow, after all—he’d promised to take me to a gallery, and I was looking forward to it.
When Kieran and I first met, he’d taken me to the Museum of Arcane History, and even that early on I’d seen it.
That man was a soldier, through and through, but he had the eyes of an artist. With the words that fell so fluidly from his silver tongue over this last year, I’d come to realize that though Kieran’s native tongue was violence and bloodshed, he had the soul of a poet—and I loved experiencing the arts by his side.
Hekate pecked at my knuckle, as impatient for an answer as the man who had summoned her.
Sighing and blushing despite myself, I dipped my quill in ink to pen out my confession.
I stole one of your shirts.
It was a touch embarrassing, but drawing the collar toward my nose and breathing in Kieran’s scent, I couldn’t say I regretted it. If I had to be without him tonight, at least I could be enveloped in the heady fragrance of citrus, cloves, and his skin.
And?
I snorted.
Just the shirt. If it wasn't so godsdamned cold outside, I'd be walking around here naked like I normally do.
He didn’t need to know that I walked around naked regardless of the weather because I didn’t require expensive enchantments to keep my apartment’s temperature regulated through the seasons. My secrets did come with their advantages, after all.
Ah, so that little habit of yours wasn't just for my benefit?
Walking around naked in Kieran’s townhouse had been an act of entirely inappropriate self-interest, actually, but…
Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, Captain. My penchant for perpetual nudity began before we met.
Sigh. At least I still get to enjoy the view. Or the imagery, tonight. Good thing I’m very imaginative. Which shirt did you steal?
The grey one.
You mean the shirt I trained in the other day?
My blush deepened. Always so observant, that one.
…Maybe.
The one that was definitely drenched in my sweat?
Abyss take me. This maddening man was never going to let me live this one down—why had I even told him? And yet I found myself wanting to tell him more.
…Perhaps. That may or may not have been a motivating factor in the thievery. Your scent kinda does things to me, in case you haven't noticed.
You're such a little whore.
Fuck. I pressed my thighs together as I sent my reply.
I mean, guilty, but…Gods. Why do I like it so much when you call me that?
His response, naturally, was immediate.
Because you are one?
Fucking Hel.
Only for you.
Only ever for you, Captain, I thought to myself as heat continued to pool between my legs, thinking of every other time he’d called me his whore over these last few days.
There we go. There's that ego stroke I was looking for.
I couldn’t help but smile.
I miss that smart mouth of yours, Captain.
Oh yeah? Just my mouth?
Among other things.
I was missing so much more than just his mouth right now.
Color me intrigued, Asher. Tell me more.
And give up this air of mystery and intrigue? Never.
It was far too much fun to tease him, even from afar. Especially from afar, knowing there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it right now.
Don't make me beg, sweetheart. Not when you'd rather be the one doing the begging.
Gods, I hate you.
How much longer was he going to make me wait? Tormenting and teasing me with the whispers of a promise, hints that he might finally be ready to exchange a darker, deeper pact between our bodies.
No, you really fuckin' don't. We've been over this.
Now stop stalling and tell me what you've been missing tonight.
Clearly, you're not missing my scent if you're still covered in it.
You're missing my mouth and trust me…It's missing you, too.
What else? Be a good girl and maybe I'll tell you exactly what I wish this mouth was doing right now.
The Fates were cruel bastards. Kieran was crueler.
I mean, I think I can guess…I’m a quick study and skilled in the interpretation of context clues.
My fingers drifted between my legs all the same after I sent that note back to him, wondering exactly what he meant, and all too willing to indulge in the possibilities.
Wouldn't you much rather I describe it to you in detail? I know you're already playing with that pretty little pussy of yours.
Oh, for fuck’s sake.
I swear to fucking gods, if you’re creeping in a window or lurking in the Shadows or some shit, Vistarii…
How did he know? How did this bastard know me this fucking well? I had barely even…Gods.
You wish. Alas, I am at home. In my bed, which feels entirely too large without you next to me, but I'll survive. Now tell me how much you miss my cock.
This man was devious, but two could play that game.
I think I'll tell you how much I miss your fingers first. They're so very skillful.
Why, thank you.
And they feel so good around my throat. Even better when you're playing with my nipples. Better still, against my clit.
The clit that was swelling by the minute under my own desperate ministrations, but nothing felt quite so good as his fingers, his touch.
I bet that clit of yours is rather wet right now, isn't it, sweetheart? I bet these fingers you've been missing could slide right in and start stroking just the way you like it. Are you already making a mess of yourself over there?
I'd much rather you make a mess of me.
I know that, but you've got sleep to catch up on tonight. Though if it makes you feel any better, I'm definitely stroking my cock for you. I'll be making a mess of my own soon enough.
Fuck. Visions of Kieran alone in his bed and stroking himself to the thought of me were going to do my fucking head in. I loved watching whenever he’d take himself by the hand, palming the erection I so enjoyed riding into oblivion.
I'm very much missing that, too, Captain. When are you going to let me take it in my mouth again? That mess would look so much prettier on my tongue.
Go to Hel, Vistarii, I muttered to myself beneath my breath. Or at the very least, come suffer down here with me.