Page 72 of The BoneKeeper's Daughter

“Does it change your mind?” I ask quietly, already pulling back, but am surprised into stillness by the bright flash of teeth in the darkness and his disbelieving laugh.

“Wren, the old Gods could come to life and offer me all the wealth in the world and it wouldn’t change my mind. Good lord, woman. As if anything other than your request could tear me away from you.” He sounds so comically affronted that I can’t help grinning, and am rewarded by his dimpled smile, visible even in the flickering glow of the coals in the fireplace. “If youmustknow,” he says with a huff, “I’mtryingnot to embarrass myself. I feel like an untried boy.”

“Is that good or bad?”

“It is…a battle. To be what you need in this moment. When all I want to do is strip you naked underneath me and taste you until you come apart beneath my mouth.” His voice darkens on the words, lowers to a rasp of sound that feels like a cat’s tongue on my skin.

“Oh!” I say stupidly, then, surprising both of us, “That sounds fine.”

“Fine?Fine?” Suddenly he’s laughing, a bright, rolling sound, and I’m laughing with him, and I realize out of nowhere how I’ve never known that there could be such easy happiness, even in these moments. That not everything has to have shadow or shade, that some things can just be light, and sweet. Kaden is gasping, his breath hitching on the words. “If you could see my face, Flame! I tell you I want to take you to the very peaks of pleasure, and you say it would befine…” His amusement rolls through me, the echoes of it rumbling in my chest where he is still pressed against me.

“Should I have said something different?” I tease, the darkness making me bold, turning me into someone I’ve never been, may never be again.

“Something more flattering thanfineyou mean? No, Wren. You’re perfect as you are. I’ll give youfine, and more than fine, and then we’ll see what you have to say.” The open laughter in his voice is alluring, warm and inviting, a private joke between us, and it’s intoxicating. Sheer happiness is written in every syllable; there is nothing he is holding back, there is nowhere else he wants to be, and he isn’t afraid to let me know. It’s overwhelming.

Dragging his lips across my skin, back up to my mouth, he bites playfully at my bottom lip, smiling against my smile, whispering against my mouth. “It’s a challenge you’re giving me? One of my trials? To have you shatter to pieces again and again until you’re nothing but stardust, and then bottle you up to glow for me alone in the night?” The words are kissed along my jaw, the corner of my mouth, the edge of my ear, the hollow of my throat, all with sweet, soft lips followed by sharp, surprising teeth, sending shivering lightning through my veins.

Sighing playfully, in a way I didn’t even know I had in me, I shake my head, and he stops moving immediately.

“What? What’s wrong?”

“I promise to only give you achievable trials, Trader,” I reply seriously. “Something you can actually accomplish.”

“Vixen!” He pounces on me, pressing me back into the thinmattress, and nudges his nose against mine. “I see how it is. Little do you know your pleasure is my own, and how selfish I am with my pleasure.” Threading his fingers through mine, he presses my hands above my head and hovers over my mouth, breathing me in. “I would say I will make you beg, Wren, but it’s clear I’m the one on my knees here.” His words drop to a whisper, a ragged promise, suddenly serious. “No. I won’t ever make you ask for a thing. Never. I’ll give to you until I’m empty, and still plead with you to let me give you more. You never will have to ask me for anything, do you understand?” I nod, but he doesn’t move. “Tell me.” It’s a command, not a request.

“I understand, Kaden.”

The shudder that runs through his body burns heat and hardness into my skin, and he bends forward to kiss me again when there is a sharp ricochet of sound at my door. Rolling off me immediately, he drops to a low crouch, the knife at his belt already drawn before he hits his feet, his other arm outstretched protectively.

“Kaden.” The voice at the door is reluctant, but firm.

“Arden?” Displeasure is clear in my Trader’s tone.

“You’re needed. I’m sorry to disturb you. There’s a…problem…at the camp. Some confusion over a trade agreement.” Tension vibrates in every word, as well as reluctance. It’s obvious whoever Arden is, he didn’t want to interrupt Kaden. There’s a long, long silence as Kaden straightens, breathing deeply, before he turns to me, lips pressed in a tight, thin line.

“I’m sorry, Wren.”

“I’m…they needyou? Specifically?” Trying hard to keep the plaintive note out of

my voice, I sit up awkwardly in my bed, suddenly cold without him against me.

“Evidently,” he says wryly, frowning over his shoulder and raising his voice to be heard, “although I’m fairly certain Arden could have asked one of the others for their advice instead!”

“False,” Arden replies immediately from the other side of the still closed door. “Your presence is required. And quickly, too. If possible,” he adds, almost as an afterthought.

“Fine,” Kaden grumbles, rubbing an exasperated hand over his face. “Don’t move from here, Flame. I’ll be back.”

“Not tonight you won’t.” I sigh. “It won’t be safe. Don’t leave the circle of your fire once you’re there. To be honest, you shouldn’t even go now, but there may be enough of the bonfires left burning that you’re alright for a short time.”

“Someone gave me a torch, but said it won’t work for long,” Arden offers, obviously listening to our exchange.

I nod. “Go then. It’s not safe for either of you. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Reluctance is written in every line of his body, and he glances between me and the door, then back to me, burning hunger naked on his face. “If I can make it back tonight, would I be welcome? Or would you rather…” His voice trails off as he walks to the door, glancing over his shoulder at me quizzically.

“If you knock, I’d let you in, but it’s really not safe,” I reply, strangely reluctant to tell him no, which is what Ishouldsay.

His answering grin is unending reward. “Go to sleep, Wren. I’m coming back to you as soon as I can. If you leave it unlatched, I’ll sneak in and wake you with sweetness.” The promise in his words is enough to stop my breath, the stuttering inhale loud enough that his eyes light with a feral satisfaction, and he strides toward me, pulling me into one last demanding kiss, almost bruising my mouth with its intensity, leaving me shaking under his hands. He waits until I’m liquid beneath him, body suppliant and melting, then kisses me gently once more, before slipping from my cottage, pulling the door shut tightly behind him. Sinking back into my bed with an unfamiliar smile, I wrap the blankets tightly around my trembling body. Woken with sweetness indeed. Skin dancing with the memory of his touch, I lull myself to sleep and dream of strange red wagons and flashing green eyes.

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