Page 67 of Soulgazer

I do. Faolan’s skin is stained red, eyes glittering like the fever’s returned full force. But his fingertips are just warm where they slide down my throat—not burning or clammy. They sweep a delicate circle just over my pulse, and I can’t control the way my body arches in response. My sigh as his mouth replaces that touch. It’s as though every ounce of worry of the last three days has been compiled into tinder, ready to burn with the barest spark.

“If you think,” he murmurs against my collarbone, “I’d rather be convalescing than sitting righthere.” His other hand falls to the small of my back, dragging my hips roughly against his own. “You’ve lost your damn mind.”

I laugh even as my head spins and body shakes in a way that’s foreign to me. I clutch his shoulders, burying my face there.

“You’re still injured.”

“Aye, my arm’s fecked. But there’s nothing wrong with my mouth.” Faolan nuzzles the tender curve below my jaw. Tugs loose the top laces of my gown. “Or my hands.”

His smallest finger dips below my shift in such a tender exploration, a lump forms in my throat. Can I truly have this? Am I allowed to want this much?

No.He’s not mine, and I’m not his—not really. But when his tongue dips in the hollow of my throat, it’s easy to forget. I rock without prompting, hating myself a little for giving in to the fantasy and fevered dreams. Desperate to understand how they might end. “We’re not—really married.”

Faolan stops, one hand half-buried beneath my shift, the other wrapped around my thigh.

“Saoirse?”

Touch is a thing life has starved me of. I tremble against the urge to lean into it—tryto remember that he’s just a story. A ravenous man’s imaginary feast.

One taste could never be enough.

“Saoirse.”

I drop my forehead to the Wolf’s and breathe in deep, hands fisted in his shirt. “It’s only pretend.”

“That’s all life is.” Faolan’s hand flexes once at my thigh, his leather glove the only barrier between us. My leg stiffens, toes curled in the sheet. I feel his smile against my skin. “I could show you. If you’ll let me.” The fabric of my shift gathers in tight little furrows as he slides that fingertip along the heavy curve of my breast. Stopping at center’s edge.

“Please—” I start, but I don’t know how to finish. Don’t know how to ask forthis.

As if he knows it, Faolan draws back just enough to see my face. Waits until I can meet his heavy gaze. “I meant what I said that first night. No child, no risks. I won’t ask for more than you’re willing to give—and if you want me to stop right now, I will and we’ll speak no more of it.”

Faolan’s touch slides up my spine and into my hair, combing through the knots he left there. He strokes until it lies smooth again, my throat closing tight because it’s been years since someone offered me affection that didn’t demand a price. “But…you’re curious. And I’m starting to catch on that you might not even know what for.”

His lips press to my forehead. I hope he doesn’t hear my breath catch. “Let me show you pleasure, love.”

“I…”

The hand on my thigh slides higher. Thumb rolling over dimpled flesh.

Desire explodes within me—mine or his, it doesn’t fecking matter.Thatis real, and it’s what I hold on to as the last of my resolve crumbles to dust.

“Yes—”

Faolan groans as his mouth moves again, nudging the fabric of my shift aside just as his hand slips fully between my legs.

His sharp intake of breath is a near-perfect match to mine. And perhaps I should feel ashamed at the slick caress of his fingers, or the way they coax my entire body to rock and moan like the ship facing a storm. But I don’t. I can’t anymore. Instead I hold on to Faolan’s shoulders—and when that is not enough, I seek his lips again and knot my fingers in his hair.

I don’t know if he’s pleased with my reactions, or if I should be quieter—prettier and sweeter, more controlled. His hands sculpt my body into something new, and that understanding of it strikes a bittersweet note in our heady song. It’s never been a thing I could trust before. Never felt so pure as it does now.

When my body seizes, jerking with a sweet sort of violence, I balk.

“Don’t fight it, love. Let go.”

Faolan croons my name as I bite down on his own, pleasure tearing through me like thunder splitting a cliffside with bursts of silver light. That same summer fire that used to break from the sky dances through my blood until I’m gasping and spent, my forehead dropped against his.

It’s onlyafterthe world stops tilting that I hear him say thank you.

“Thank you?” I’m still blinking the stars from my vision as hefixes the laces of my gown, skirts already smoothed back into place. “For what?”