Page 159 of Bound

He wanted her eyes. When she wanted most was to sleep, and he wanted her to look at him again.

She supposed she might oblige him. This time anyway.

Her heart was still racing, but she cupped his cheek and watched as his smile grew. “There you are.”

She shook her head at him and might have chuckled, but she was cross with him, really. For doubting her.

Doubting them.

“Rather pleased with yourself, are you?”

He purred. Tucked her in closer.

And she could tell that he was spent, and there were vague warnings from her mother about getting up and washing and don’t be a fool about it because healers are expensive, and yes there are herbs that she shouldn’t have to rely on such things.

She turned she might place a kiss to where his nightshirt gaped open. Were they supposed to have removed those first? Next time. All skin and kisses, and she’d make sure that he lay quite still while she sated all her curiosities on just how different the male form might be.

Maybe in the daytime. When the suns were out and Merryweather was out in the stable tending to her hunting.

“What are you thinking about?” Braum asked, his hand coming to her braid. Twining it about his palm. Allowing it to fall. Again and again.

“How we’ll do it the next time,” Wren declared. Paused. Considered if that was an admission she should give, most especially when he snorted.

“I take it that means I have left you unsatisfied.”

He was already reaching for her again, but the delicious pulse that flared and ebbed gave a hint of warning that it could grow to pain if she grew too greedy of him.

So she grasped his hand and tucked below her breasts. She’d get up in a moment. Truly. But she would savour just a moment longer like this. “Not at all,” she promised him. “Just means I liked it.” She tilted her head, trying to catch his eye. “Did you? I tried to pay attention, honest, but there was just so much.”

His smile was tender, even if his eyes were alight with mirth. “You are a treasure,” he assured her, pulling her more firmly to him. “My treasure.”

She felt warm all over.

Words failed her. But that was all right when she had kisses now to give instead.

And when Merryweather gave a yowl from downstairs that she’d woken from her nap and thought a late snack would not be remiss, it made it easier to tend to the rest of it.

Not with scrubbing and tears. But with a simple cloth and a hurry to get back to him. Only to find that her spot had been taken by Merry, that looked all the while that it was Wren who had intruded on her rightful position.

“My great defender,” Wren groused, clinging to the edge of the bed as she took what bed linens she could.

Braum’s shoulders rose and fell, the gesture looking much more normal than it once had. “You keep a wild creature in your home. I think it best not to anger her.”

Merryweather stretched languidly, and Wren cuddled as close as she dared to the both of them.

It was perfect.

???

It wasn’t spring.

Not yet.

But there was a whisper of it.

She’d woken early. Well, Merryweather had. So she had. And so she’d crept down and started the fire, while Merry made use of her new door that flapped gently at her exit.

A clever man, her mate. Generous and kind.