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CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

S olarius took it upon himself to unpack and organize most of Narissa’s belongings.

The whole of her wardrobe, along with quite literally everything else she owned, had been delivered while she was out shopping in Celestine with Sarelle.

Solarius had to admit, he was impressed with the speed at which Lord Marintide accomplished getting it all packed up and delivered for her, but then again, being a fae had its perks.

Unfortunately, Solarius now found himself overwhelmed with dozens of underthings.

Who knew a female even owned that many nightgowns?

There were garters, panties, stockings, nighties—a damn plethora of lace, silk, satin, and other soft fabrics he was too intimidated to touch.

He didn’t even know where to put all of it, or if he’d set aside enough space.

He might need to devote an entire dresser to Narissa’s undergarments.

But Solarius had chosen his bedroom when he was younger for specific reasons.

The first being, it was at the back of House Celestine and had a sweeping view of Moonfall Peaks, and in the distance he could see the Arcasian Sea.

The second was for the adjoining sitting room.

Granted, he had never actually used it for anything other than lounging or drinking the night away with his brothers, but now it would prove to be more beneficial than not.

The sitting room would double as Narissa’s own personal space.

An area where she could dry her herbs and flowers, brew her potions and tonics, and generally escape whenever she felt the need.

Tovian and Kjeld helped him arrange most of her supplies.

Together they sorted the numerous mortars and pestles, attempted to identify and group together her plants, and shelve her books and crystals.

The only thing still needed was a place for her small, worn cauldron.

He made a mental note to have a table especially crafted for her in mind, as well as to find her another, larger cauldron.

Lord Marintide had delivered the harp himself, warning Solarius that it was one of her most prized possessions and to take great care.

Naturally, Solarius kept the harp in the bedroom.

He had it placed near the balcony, overlooking the mountains and the sea, and already he could imagine the way the eastern morning light would illuminate her when she played.

There was something oddly sensual about the way her fingers moved over the harp strings, the delicate strums and plucks, the way her eyes fluttered closed with each crescendo of enchanting music.

It was a selfish decision, but he didn’t care.

He wanted to be the only one to see her so vulnerable.

Maybe eventually they would get a new harp for another area of the house, depending upon if they stayed at House Celestine or built their own.

But for now, he would keep her all to himself.

Unless she wanted to play for others, in which case he wouldn’t stand in her way, but he would carve out the eyes of any male whose gaze lingered a little too long.

Solarius continued to sort through all the provocative underthings strewn across his bed when the door burst open, and Narissa swept into the room in a flurry of satin.

She drew up short and her eyes widened when she caught sight of her unmentionables covering the velvet comforter.

“Sol.” Her gaze flicked from him to her things, then back to him, and she clutched the bag in her hands.

He grinned and lifted a pair of what he could only assume were panties, given their shape.

The lack of material was interesting, but it was the string of pearls that had his cock thickening.

The things he would do if he ever caught her in those…

“How come I’ve never seen you wear this?” he asked, arching one brow in mock amusement.

A rosy flush highlighted her cheeks, but she rolled her eyes to the glass ceiling, then reached over and snatched them from his grasp.

“Because these ,” she whispered, running two fingers along the glistening pearls, “are only for very special occasions.”

He matched her, leaning closer and planting his hands firmly on the mattress.

“Does the Yuletide Ball count?”

“I…” Her pretty full mouth fell open, and he seized the opportunity to distract her further.

Solarius reached for the bag filled with pale purple tissue paper.

“Show me what you bought, Rissa love. More stockings? Perhaps another pair of pearl panties?”

She swatted his hand away from the goods.

“I’ll only show you after you tell me what’s going on here. What is all this?”

Narissa gestured around the room, waving one hand wildly through the air.

“Allow me to show you.” Solarius took her by the hand and linked their fingers together.

He showed her the closet first, where all her gowns, capes, and shoes fit so tidily next to his own attire.

“Don’t mind the bed, that’s still a work in progress, though I do hope you’ll continue to share it with me.”

He led her to the sitting room, showing off how most of her herbal necessities were somewhat organized.

He gestured toward the window where bundles of dried flowers were laid on the sill, waiting to be hung.

“You can change anything you like if it doesn’t suit. I’m going to have a table made for you since we don’t have anywhere to put your cauldron. And if you want a new one of those, I’ll find you one. Just say the word.”

Solarius nodded toward the main bedchamber.

“And I put your harp by the balcony window.”

“You did all this…” Her voice caught.

“For me?”

“Well, the bed sharing thing is mostly for me.” He gave her hand a squeeze and winked.

“But, yes.”

Her expression shifted then, and he watched as uncertainty clouded her pretty features, waiting to see if he had overstepped his bounds.

The bag she carried dropped at her feet.

She sniffled and her eyes took on a familiar sheen as a single tear rolled down her cheek.

The bond shivered with emotions.

Shit.

That was not the reaction he was expecting.

“Don’t cry, Rissa love.” He pulled her close, catching the small pearl with one hand before it could hit the ground.

She burrowed her face in his chest, and he hated the way her body trembled in his arms.

“Please, don’t cry.”

Wrapping one arm around her waist, he reached across the dresser and lifted the lid of a black jar and dropped the pearl inside.

It tinkled softly in the round jar.

She peeked over from where she used his shirt to dry her eyes.

“You…you collect the pearls.”

It was more a statement of fact as opposed to a question, and Solarius suddenly found himself painfully uncomfortable.

He kept his arm locked around her, rubbing one hand along the back of his neck, uncertain of how she would respond to the truth.

He eased back only slightly, just enough to gauge her reaction, to see her face when he explained himself.

“All the ones that are because of me.” Solarius nodded solemnly.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“I thought to eventually make them into a necklace for you. Not to remind you of all the times I made you cry,” he added quickly when a frown creased her brow, “but so that you know I will try my damnedest to never make you cry again.”

Narissa was too quiet.

She gnawed on her bottom lip, considering his words.

The bond between them continued to thrum, gentle swells of the sea coupled with the radiance of the moon.

Their magic blended and soared, but she remained silent.

Solarius hated to see her like this—timid and melancholy—instead of the passionate, if somewhat mouthy, siren he knew and loved.

Loved.

Fuck.

Did he love her?

Was that why he constantly sought to be near her, why he provoked her just to earn her attention, why he couldn’t manage a single thought that didn’t somehow involve her encompassing his every waking second?

But she’d never said as much to him.

Granted, she might have mentioned loving him once, but that was before.

Before he fucked up.

Before Calfair.

There was a chance she hadn’t forgiven him.

Maybe her feelings were more forced acceptance of their current circumstance.

Maybe she didn’t love him at all.

He swallowed hard, blocking his mind from their bond immediately.

Narissa tilted her head, her wavy blonde hair spilling over one shoulder.

“Sol? Are you alright?”

“Fine.” The word croaked out of him, and he cleared his throat.

He was being irrational, and told himself it didn’t matter if she still loved him or not.

Not all matches in Aeramere were tales of happily ever afters.

While marriages were often required, love was never guaranteed.

Again, he swallowed around the knot of tension.

“Completely fine.”

“Are you quite certain?” She placed the back of her hand against his forehead, then his cheek, checking his temperature.

Her touch set his skin aflame, but his lungs hollowed out.

Her scent consumed him.

Owned him.

She had to know he was positively burning, and it was all her fault.

“You look rather unwell all of a sudden. As though you might be sick.”

He needed to change the subject and fast, before he bolted from the room and abandoned Narissa completely.

He would sort out his feelings for her later, preferably when she wasn’t standing so close, when the nearness of her didn’t devour him whole.

Solarius slid two fingers under her chin and gave her his most devastating smile.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re exceptional in the art of flattery?”

A tiny scowl pinched the smooth skin of her brow.

“Forgive me for being concerned for your health.” She suffered him a sigh and shoved out of his arms.

“Trust I will be sure not to make such a mistake again.”

Solarius smirked.

There she is.

He rather liked her that way.

Quick-tempered.

Passionate.

A little bit volatile.

“Come.” He grabbed her hand, tugging her toward the harp.

“Play me a song, Rissa love.”

“A song,” she repeated, crossing her arms.

Solarius couldn’t help it, his gaze instantly dipped to the full swell of her breasts.

She still wore Sarelle’s borrowed gown, and he immensely enjoyed the fact that it was a smidge too small.

Narissa’s ample bosom was on full display, and he swore if she took a deep breath, there was a chance the velvet would simply rip apart at the seams.

In fact, he wouldn’t mind lending the fabric a hand, if it meant he got to see his wife in all of her nude glory.

But first, he wanted her sitting at that harp, because his cock was aching and he’d fantasized about doing the most deliciously wicked things to her while she played.

“Fine,” she muttered, completely oblivious to his blatant arousal.

“Which one?”

She seated herself on the leather chair by the balcony and adjusted her skirts.

Because they were more snug than usual, she shimmied a bit, hiking the hem to her knees, revealing the beautiful golden skin of her calves.

“Whichever is your favorite,” he murmured.

Her eyes closed for the briefest of moments.

When she opened them again, there was a distance in the swirls of frosty green.

She angled the harp toward her, balancing it on her shoulder, and then she started to play.

Solarius watched, mesmerized as her fingers moved over the strings, as a familiar yet fragile melody filled the air between them.

It was hypnotic really, how each strum, each chord, each breath she took elicited the most primal of urges inside him.

Humming the tune, he rolled his neck as he casually strolled toward her.

She tracked his movements, her lashes fluttering back as he knelt before her and wedged himself comfortably between the solid wood and her inner thigh.

She scowled at him and those ocean-like eyes caught on fire.

He summoned his magic then, the gentlest of lunarstorms, crafting and honing a shard of moonlight in his hands until it resembled a blade.

Narissa faltered, her fingers fumbling against the strings.

“What are you doing?”

“Keep playing.”

With slow, careful movements, he used the sharp edge of the blade to slice open the front of her gown.

The velvet and lace ripped with ease so her breasts tumbled free, baring her to him.

Her nipples peaked, practically begging for his touch, for the swipe of his tongue.

The fabric slid down her arms, peeling open to reveal her toned stomach, and that sparkly little gem piercing her navel.

“I told you I was abstaining from bedroom activities,” she hissed, but the erratic beating of her heart through the bond told him she wasn’t nearly as pissed as she let on.

“And so you are.” Solarius cupped both of her breasts, his thumbs swiping lazily back and forth across her sensitive flesh.

He enjoyed the way she squirmed on the chair, how she arched toward him without thought.

“You’re playing the harp, and I’m doing this.”

One hand trailed down to her hip, holding her in place, while the other snaked beneath the layers of her dress.

His fingers inched along her thigh, slow.

Cautious.

Until they discovered her warm and wet, and lacking any kind of lacy barrier.

His cock swelled, scraping against the seam of his pants.

He wanted to show her, so she could see the effect she had on him.

But her gaze was focused on his face, wild and aware, and for a moment, he worried he may have pushed her too far.

But then he felt it.

The faintest give of her leg as it fell open wider, granting him access.

Solarius slid one finger down her slick folds and Narissa gasped.

Her head fell back, and she struck a jarring chord.

The dissonant sound grated against his ears, but he didn’t care.

All he cared about was her.

All he wanted was her.

He pushed one finger deep into her core, then added another.

In and out, he kept his movements methodical, setting a leisurely pace.

His other hand skated up her waist, brushing along the side of her breast.

The most delightful whimper escaped her, carrying a whisper of his name on her lips.

“Do you like that, Rissa love?”

“Yes,” she whispered, her chest heaving.

Narissa tried to keep plucking at the strings, but her impatience clawed down the bond.

She rolled her hips, quietly urging him to increase his pace.

Each time he curled his fingers, she stumbled over another chord.

“More,” she begged.

“Play faster,” he countered with a smirk, and the pale green of her gaze burned hot.

“Fine,” she snapped.

Solarius should’ve known her temper would get the best of her, he should have taken more care in riling her up.

Because he never saw her next move coming.

Narissa lifted her leg, so the velvet of her gown pooled at her waist, revealing his fingers deep inside of her.

He bit back a groan, knowing he could absolutely sneak another finger in and she’d take it with no problem.

But she surprised him further by propping her foot up, the thin heel of her shoe poking him squarely in the chest.

Then she played, her fingers moving so swiftly over the strings of the harp that he could barely track them.

Stars above, she was wicked.

But a promise was a promise.

He pumped his fingers into her, following the hasty rhythm she set.

She clenched around him, her body seizing as he drove her closer to the edge.

The vicious point of her heel dug into him, but he didn’t mind the pain, in fact, he reveled in it.

It was fascinating, watching her writhe and grind against him, being witness to her undoing.

Power hummed between them and when he worked her clit with his thumb, her leg spasmed, and she screamed his name.

The blistering melody crescendoed, and Narissa vibrated in the wake of her orgasm, collapsing against the chair as the base of the harp dropped soundly against the floor.

Her skin flushed the pretty, rosy hue he loved so much, and he swore he’d never seen anything more desirable in his life.

She was sprawled against the chair, legs spread, breasts out, and all of it was for him.

Messy golden waves framed her face, and if he could ingrain this moment in his mind, he would.

He let his eyes slowly drink in every inch of her, committing the finest detail of her beauty to his memory.

Solarius pressed a kiss to the inside of her thigh, then slowly stood.

“Don’t worry, you don’t have to participate in any bedroom activities.” He pulled the hem of her gown so it covered her legs, then he adjusted his pulsing shaft.

When her lust-filled gaze flicked down to where he strained for her against his pants, he rubbed his shaft a few times just to tease her.

To remind her of what she would be missing.

“But remember, Rissa love. The Yuletide Ball is outside of the bedroom.”

Narissa’s mouth fell open in shock and Solarius laughed, tugging off his shirt as he stalked toward the connected bathing suite.

The sear of her gaze burned into his back.