Page 51 of Summer of Sacrifice

“Asaaaaa,” she crooned. “Wake up!”

Asa grunted. “I’m already awake,” he said without opening his eyes. “Thanks to your screeching and body slamming.”

Sorscha waved a handful of rolled parchments in his face. “The sketches from Tindle are here! Aggie’s raven just brought them. Thank you, by the way, for modifying my mother’s spell to let him in.” She bent to kiss his stubbled cheek.

“Mm,” he grunted. “Modifying spellwork done by someone as powerful as your mother is a pain in the arse.”

“But you did it.” She rolled over onto one side, resting her head in her hand and running the other along Asa’s chest in little taps like tiny sprite footsteps. “You let in a courier raven, for me.”

He snorted. “It’s a bird. I don’t have qualms with birds.”

Ever so slowly, Sorscha let the trail of her fingers dip lower and lower until she was below Asa’s navel. One of his eyes popped open.

“Show me those sketches before I regret letting you sleep in my room.” The other eye popped open, and he stood up, scrambling to back away from her. “Gods Almighty, would you put some clothes on? How many times do I have to tell you that you can’t be naked in my room!”

Sorscha preened. “Why? Too tempting?”

“Don’t be an idiot. If I didn’t want to fuck you to The Void and back I wouldn’t find it so important to wait, now would I?”

She flipped over onto her stomach again, crossing her ankles and resting her head in her hands. It would have been hard to miss the way his gaze slid slowly down her back and over the curve of her arse. “Are you sure?”

Asa cleared his throat. “Sure of what?” He shook his head, long hair swaying in a way that made her want to drive her fingers through it. “Doesn’t matter. I’m sure of all my choices, or I wouldn’t make them.”

Pouting, she rose with far too much bounce to tease him further.

“Dammit, Sorscha,” Asa muttered as he stomped off to the lavatory, adjusting himself.

She giggled and donned a chemise. then a red dress with a plunging neckline. It was a lovely thing, but a far cry from what she’d asked Tindle to design for the Araignée residents. She wanted Asa to agree to the designs, after all. While she waited for him to return, she unfurled the parchments one by one, using her many potted sproutlings to hold down the edges.

Asa claimed to be as irritated with her plant children in his room as he was with her, but she knew better. If she was away from him for more than half a day, he was searching her out, claiming some excuse as to why he needed to see her, when she knew quite well by now he just missed having her around. It was lovely, to be missed and sought after, even when she was being her most vexing self.

Only Aggie had ever done that—missed seeing Sorscha, despite being forbidden to do so. Sure, Gaius cared about her in a way that rivalled her Sisters, but his annoyance with her was true, and sometimes bone-deep. Even Rosemary had often said that Sorscha was too much.

Asa might growl at her and argue with her ceaselessly, but he’d never thought her too much, of that she was certain. At least, she thought she was…

He came out of the lavatory with his hair wet and a fresh sarong, and she watched him closely. “Do you think I’m too much?” she asked quietly, uncharacteristic vulnerability lacing her words.

Something akin to pain crossed Asa’s features, tightening his jaw. He stalked forward and snaked an arm around her waist, pulling her flush against him with such force that a woosh of air left her lungs. Looking down into her eyes, he said in a low rumble, “Why would you ask me that?”

“Because I am, sometimes. Too much.”

He brought a finger up and tucked her hair behind her ear without releasing his hold on her. “Nonsense. You are a pretty little nightmare, but you’re my pretty little nightmare. Never too much.” He leaned down and kissed her cheek. “Unless…” His lips moved to her ear. “Of course you mean…” He moved to her neck. “The perfect amount for me is too much.”

He didn’t let her answer, bringing his lips to hers instead. Kissing her with fervour, he leaned into her so much that he had to brace both hands on the table as he pushed against her. Sorscha threw her arms around his neck, pushing forward into him harder, their hips colliding and a need so intense that she’d never felt anything like it began to build low in her belly.

“Yours?” she asked breathlessly as Asa’s hands gripped her hips, lifting her up and onto the table in one smooth motion.

“Mine,” he growled, pushing her knees apart, his lips meeting hers again until the whole table rocked.

More than one plant crashed to the floor, pottery and soil skidding across the stone. Ignoring the mess completely, Asa slid his hand up her skirt, hot on her thigh as he trailed a line down the low cut of her bodice with his lips. Tipping her head back, Sorscha let out an involuntary whimper. The sound snapped Asa’s attention to her face. When his gaze met hers, his eyes were beyond hungry. Ravenous. She grabbed the nape of his neck and pulled his lips to hers.

His fingers crawled up her thigh until she thought she’d scream. Asa moved his lips from her mouth to the tops of her breasts. When her head tipped back again, Sorscha had to lean back on her hands to steady herself. He clasped the back of her neck, his fingers tangling in her hair, and Sorscha gasped at the gentle pull, sliding backwards on the slipping papers.

A tearing sound broke the spell in a sudden rip. Parchment ripping.

They separated, gasping for breath. “Holy gods,” Sorscha spouted, touching her lips.

They were going to burn the fucking mountains down when Asa finally gave in. She pushed him away from her, hopping down and turning to assess what they had ripped. Thankfully, it was only a small corner of Tindle’s note that had accompanied the sketches.

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