Page 146 of The Chains You Defy

“No—I mean, no. It’s just—”

Angling my head to the other side, I regarded her, trying hard not to grin. “What?”

“Uhm, you left me clothes as a present, right?”

“Yes, in the bathing chamber.”

“Was there anything missing by chance? Have you checked the parcel?”

“Why?”

Finally, she pulled the tempting ties open, and once the black cloak slid down and pooled at her feet, I froze.

And stared.

Then stared some more.

Because Nayana was a vision.

The dress, which was tailored from delicate floral lace in ruby red, had a corset top, tied in the front—how the construction of such a piece from this dainty fabric was possible, I didn’t know and didn’t care—and from her waist, a wide skirt in the same material went all the way to the ground, a train in the back giving the gown an almost regal impression.

Underneath, she was wearing skintight apparel similar to the one female fae wore when they went for a swim, which was a garment consisting of a chest band and underthings combined into one piece. The onyx finery was peeking out from under the lace, and I couldn’t help it; my blood heated.

When I’d commissioned the ensemble, I’d already imagined how the garb would look on Nayana, but all the pictures I’d painted in my head paled next to reality. She appeared like a goddess in black, ruby, and skin, her cheeks deliciously red, and when I’d finally finished my predatory inspection, I pounced.

Nayana didn’t even manage to squeak before I hauled her back into my arms. Burying my nose in the crook of her neck, I inhaled deeply, breathing her in. Her scent clouded my senses and obscured my reason, like always when my instincts pushed to the forefront.

But I was a male on a mission and thus had to rein myself in.

Still, I released her only after a last deep breath. As she moved a step backward with a ruffled expression on her flushed face, I couldn’t keep my tongue in check.

“Mine.”

“Stop saying that. You can’t own a person.”

For a moment, I was distracted by her ethereal beauty, but then I gave her a minuscule nudge with my shoulder to terminate the discussion from the beginning. Sometimes, shutting my mouth and allowing her to believe she’d won our argument was acceptable because, in the end, I knew better anyway—she was already mine. No misguided sensitivities of hers could change something about that.

Clearing my throat, I gathered the remnants of my wits—the little part that hadn’t been taken over by my cock—and pursed my lips.

Gods, those legs. My memory wasn’t exactly helping me, as my traitorous mind reminisced about the time when I’d buried my face between those shapely thighs.

Fuck, I needed to concentrate.

“It’s—no, the tailor didn’t forget something. This is an ensemble often worn when going for a swim.” I vaguely gestured to the lagoon, trying to conceal that, despite my words not being a lie in a technical sense, most of the cover dresses for water fun showed less skin—and if she thought she could wear this gown inpublic, she was toying with a lot of lives. “And—the dress suits you. You’re breathtaking.”

“Uhm…thanks then. Are we going to swim?”

“That’s up to you, but I chose your clothes with the possibility in mind of showing you the grotto behind the waterfall.”

Her eyes lit up with curiosity, and eagerness radiated from her, replacing the shyness bit by bit. “Oh, that would be amazing.”

“Then we’ll do that. However, I suggest getting some food into you first. You haven’t eaten anything yet.”

“Oh yes, please. I’m very hungry.”

Which was my fault. I’d been so excited and anxious to leave the palace that I’d forgotten about breakfast. What a grave oversight. Fuck again.

“Then come. Starving is unacceptable.”