Page 302 of Kingdom of Ash

“You should eat more.”

Giving her privacy without the awkwardness of her needing to ask for it. That’s what he was trying to do.

Barefoot before him, Elide peered into his granite-hewn face. Shrugged out of her cloak, then jacket. Lorcan’s throat bobbed.

She knew he could hear her heart as it began racing. Could likely scent every emotion on her. But she said, “I need help. Getting into the bath.”

“Do you, now.” His voice was near-guttural.

Elide bit her lip, her breasts becoming heavy, tingling. “I might slip.”

His eyes drifted down her body, but he made no move. “A dangerous time, bath time.”

Elide found it in herself to walk toward the copper tub. He trailed a few feet behind, giving her space. Letting her steer this.

Elide halted beside the tub, steam wafting past. She tugged the hem of her shirt from her pants.

Lorcan watched every move. She wasn’t entirely certain he was breathing.

But—her hands stalled. Uncertain. Not of him, but this rite, this path.

“Show me what to do,” she breathed.

“You’re doing just fine,” Lorcan ground out.

But she gave him a helpless look, and he prowled closer. His fingers found the loose hem of her shirt. “May I?” he asked quietly.

Elide whispered, “Yes.”

Lorcan still studied her eyes, as if reading the sincerity of that word. Deeming it true.

Gently, he pulled the fabric from her. Cool air kissed her skin, pebbling it. The flexible band around her breasts remained, but Lorcan’s gaze remained on her own. “Tell me what you want next,” he said roughly.

Hand shaking, Elide grazed a finger over the band.

Lorcan’s own hands shook as he unbound it. As he revealed her to the air, to him.

His eyes seemed to go wholly black as he took in her breasts, her uneven breathing. “Beautiful,” he murmured.

Elide’s mouth curled as the word settled within her. Gave her enough courage that she lifted her hands to his jacket and began unbuckling, unbuttoning. Until Lorcan’s own chest was bare, and she ran her fingers over the smattering of dark hair across the sculpted planes. “Beautiful,” she said.

Lorcan trembled—with restraint, with emotion, she didn’t know. That darling purr of his rumbled into her as she pressed her mouth against his pectoral.

His hand drifted to her hair, each stroke unbinding her braid. “We only go as far and long as you want,” he said. Yet she dared to glance down his body—to what strained under his pants.

Her mouth went dry. “I—I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Anything you do will be enough,” he said.

She lifted her head, scanning his face. “Enough for what?”

Another half smile. “Enough to please me.” She scoffed at the arrogance, but Lorcan brushed his mouth against her neck. His hands bracketed her waist, his thumbs grazing her ribs. But no higher.

Elide arched into the touch, a small sound escaping her as his lips brushed just beneath her ear. And then his mouth found hers, gentle and thorough.

Her hands twined around his neck, and Lorcan lifted her, carrying her not to the bath, but to the cot behind them, his lips never leaving hers.

Home. This, with him. This was home, as she had never had. For however long they might share it.

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