Page 25

RED-Y OR NOT

Ember

E mber lay in the comfort of her massive bed staring at the spray of stars across Heck’s night sky, but all she could think about were Severath’s broad shoulders, his muscular back, and the feel of every hard ridge of his body.

She flexed her fingers and took a deep breath, chest expanding beneath the linen as her eyelids fluttered down.

In her mind, she could see him again laid out beneath her, his body so strong and yet so responsive to her every touch like she was actually in control.

Her own body responded to that, nipples tightening as she squeezed her thighs together, and then her hand found the dip between her legs.

It had been a while, but not so long that she’d forgotten how, and soon she was sighing with every soft stroke she gave herself.

Safe under the linens and sinking into the down of the mattress, Ember built the thrumming between her legs.

It could be safer, though, and warmer too, if Severath were there with her.

Her eyes sprang open and her hand froze, but her bedchamber was empty.

Fear didn’t swirl through her veins like she expected, but there was surprise prickling at her skin.

The thought of Severath’s presence wasn’t the deterrent she expected, instead encouraging the eagerness below her hovering hand, begging her to get on with things.

She closed her eyes again, slipping into the deeper safety of her mind where she could control him completely. It wasn’t necessarily fair, she knew, but it hurt no one, least of all her if all she did was imagine him beneath her again, entirely under her command.

Ember panted as she fell back into a quickening rhythm, urgency she was sure she’d never had before at the thought of the demon: big and warm and rumbling in response to her touch.

It took only a moment longer, and then she broke apart with a gasp, throwing her other hand over her mouth to keep from crying out into the quiet of the house.

Struggling to catch her breath between her own fingers, her body went limp like she’d cleaned a manor’s kitchen all by herself.

Never had cleaning been so satisfying, though, nor had it brought her the kind of joy that stayed with her through her dreams and into the next day.

Come morning, she skipped down the stairs, hummed through every meal, and only prodded at Severath playfully during a reading lesson that evening.

The demon’s expressive eye and unrelenting proximity gave away his awareness of a change in her, but Ember didn’t mind.

In fact, she enjoyed how he lingered and observed, his smoky smell pervading her senses, and the small questioning sounds from the back of his throat she might not hear otherwise.

It was only at bedtime she managed to tear herself away from his side and shut herself up alone in her chamber.

How could one blame a woman, though, when she had long thought satisfaction was lost to her?

Ember held onto the feel of him hovering close as she stripped off her clothes.

That oversized tunic lay draped over a chair in the room’s corner, but instead she pulled open a drawer and dug beneath the clothes Brioni had brought her until she found the lacy underthings she’d hidden away.

Silky softness slipped through her fingers as she lifted a short shift out of the dresser and then pulled it on over her head.

She climbed into bed, the soft feel of the linens against her bare limbs too inviting.

Eyes closed, she touched herself again, and the pleasure came even faster this time, building in her core like she’d been teasing herself all day—or rather, like Severath had been teasing her with close observation yet so careful not to touch her.

Gods, it would have been even better if he had.

If it was his hand gliding down her belly, his fingers soaking themselves in her center, maybe even his tongue…

She had walked in on that once, a highborn lady draped over a couch and a footman on his knees, licking her until she screamed.

Ember groaned at the new thought of Severath’s head between her legs, at twisting up her fingers in his hair, at riding his mouth while his arms were wrapped around her thighs.

She would be trapped if it were real, but the safety of her fantasies allowed her to indulge, to sink deeper, to imagine him climbing atop her and making her his. His to fuck, and his to protect.

Well, that was a new thought— dangerous , and yet…

“Severath,” she gasped, fingers working furiously beneath the linen and then stopping before she came too quickly. The loss of her own touch made Ember whimper, imagining yet again it was Severath’s doing, learning her body and evaluating—no, assessing how to please her.

In the quiet between her heavy breaths, she heard her own name in his rumbling voice, and she responded with a low moan to the picture in her mind. Broad-shouldered and crimson, she could practically smell his smokiness as she imagined him pressing lips to her stomach, hands trailing her arm.

Goosebumps lifted in the wake of his fingers, and then there was warmth as his palm pressed to her shoulder. “Ember,” he whispered.

“Severath,” she cried out.

“It’s all right,” he said more urgently. “It’s only another dream.”

Ember was used to unpleasant dreams. She was used to nightmares too. She was even used to night terrors. But this? This was something else entirely.

Dread wrapped around the pleasure that had burned so hotly in her belly, locking it away behind frozen fear—not fear that Severath was there, notably, but fear that she’d been caught.

Ember didn’t often feel embarrassment that deeply—it was a largely useless emotion when fury was the much easier choice, but anger failed her when she opened her eyes to see his broken horn and the anxious look draped over his face as he knelt at her bedside.

Severath had heard her crying out, and he’d come, and now… now she wasn’t going to.

Fuck.

“You spoke my name in your nightmare again,” he rasped as he pulled his hand away from her shoulder. “I was too pushy today, too close. I shouldn’t even be here now, I know. I’ll go, but?—”

“No,” she said, and it was so breathy, fire hotter than his arrows bloomed in her cheeks.

“Please, don’t go.” What am I doing? Ember’s eyes flicked down the length of her own body, linens pulled up to her shoulders.

Her hand hovered unseen, but her tensed fingers twitched, brushing against her most sensitive spot. Shit! She sucked in a sharp breath.

Severath’s face creased with pain. “Was I hurting you? In your dream?”

“No, definitely not,” she sputtered. It wasn’t funny, it couldn’t be, but she still had to bite down onto her lip to stop uneasy laughter from sneaking out. That, at least, loosened the icy knot of dread in her belly.

“Do you want to discuss it?”

“I don’t think I can.”

Severath nodded, standing carefully. “That’s fine. If you wish, I will stay with you until you fall asleep.” He retrieved the chair from the room’s corner and sat at her bedside, facing her and more than an arm’s length away.

She wasn’t sure if it was more awkward or less that he’d positioned himself that much closer to the scene of the as-of-yet undiscovered crime, so she sat up, pulling the linens with her to hold beneath her chin.

“Do you want me to read to you?”

Ember’s heart squeezed at the sweet offer, but she shook her head. Just the thought of his rumbling tones filling up the room made her ache between her legs even without her frenzied fingers.

Severath didn’t move, but his eye went wide. “You’re in distress.”

“No,” she chirped, the sound strangled and a dead giveaway. “Well, maybe a little.”

He leaned forward with such sincerity she had to bite back more laughter. “What can I do?”

Ember pushed back against the headboard, but everything inside her said to pounce on the hulking demon instead.

His tunic was loose, and his dark skin caught the starlight as he held still, waiting for whatever she commanded.

There was so much worry there in the bend to his brow and his turned-down lips that when her stomach twisted next, it wasn’t with dread or even lust, but with guilt .

“I wasn’t dreaming,” she admitted. “I wasn’t asleep at all.”

His head tipped slightly. “No?”

It would probably be best to send him away, to keep her secret, to save them both the shame, but then she remembered how responsive he’d been when she rubbed his back and the noises he had made. Gods, those noises. “I wasn’t sleeping, but I was saying your name.”

“You were calling me?”

“In a way,” she said quietly and allowed the linens to fall away from her chest. She’d never worn anything so revealing, especially not in front of a man—demon or otherwise—but when she saw how tense Severath’s jaw went at seeing the silky material pulled taut over her still-beaded nipples, she silently asked every god to bless Brioni for the gift.

Severath dragged in a breath, and his eye changed. Even in the dark, Ember could see it, a wild glimmer that sparked in the depth of the blackness. Fear didn’t flare in Ember’s belly, but thrill did, stoking the fervor that had almost been extinguished.

Her tongue darted over her lips, and she dragged the blanket off of her completely. Her short shift fell mid thigh, and she teased the lace at the hem with the hand she’d been using so recently to tease herself.

Hands on his knees, Severath’s claws extended, and his eye closed as his head tipped back. He was drawn even tighter than his bow, but she trusted he wouldn’t loose himself on her. “Your scent. It’s…”

As his voice fell away into a growl, Ember’s insides trembled. Filthy , she thought, pinching her knees together and worrying her lip between her teeth. Shame clawed itself up from a dark, hidden place in the voices of others and then herself. He’s going to say I’m disgusting…