Page 54 of Ironling
That idea just made her stomach clench with nerves.
Just ask him about orcish customs and whether any of it meant he might feel as she did? The prospect seemed…too daunting. She didn’t think she could bear it if he said no, or worse, laughed at her.
She valued his friendship and companionship too much.
It would be safer to bury her feelings. To forget this attraction. Nothing could come of it, not truly. She was Aislinn Darrow, heiress of the Darrowlands. Even if Hakon was a prince among orcs and just failed to mention it, the idea of a noblewoman taking a halfling for a lover was scandalous, and taking one for a husband was inconceivable.
Her jealousy over what Sorcha had only grew.
Aislinn peered at herself in the mirror, the uncertainty plainon her face for even her to see.
Perhaps…it was for the best then that she continued not visiting him. Perhaps now she should finally do the wise thing and let go of her infatuation before her heart became anymore attached. She wasn’t far enough down this path to be in true danger—there was still time to turn back.
That would be the smart thing, the responsible thing to do.
And yet…
She found no comfort in it. Her heart shuddered at the idea of being put away again.
Aislinn always found change frightening. Hakon was no different and yet like nothing before. He came withpromise,the chance at something wonderful—if he reciprocated any of her feelings, of course.
Familiarity was safe. Wise. Comforting.
Aislinn knew what to expect in the familiar, knew how to read and understand it.
And yet…
The familiarity of her duties, of being alone, of not havinghim,wasn’t the comfort it may once have been. It may even fill her with…despair.
She’d never liked keeping the gaze of others for long, but she’d taught herself to hold for a requisite amount of time. Now, she forced herself to look back at her own reflection.
The woman who stared back was torn, uncertain. Frightened of but longing for change.
Did she dare take the chance and risk heartbreak, humiliation? And, perhaps even more frightening, if she won her gamble, could she allow her heart to open itself again, when it had been hurt so many times before?
Aislinn didn’t know. And she hated not knowing things.
13
Sweat and condensate ran in thick rivulets down Hakon’s straining neck and back, his skin finding no relief as the warm water and steam of the baths swirled around him. The knuckles of both hands had gone pale, one with the effort of holding himself up against the far wall while the other fervently worked his cock as the water lapped at his bollocks.
A nightly bath had become his ritual, a way to wash off the day’s soot and grime—and lust. He took to the baths late in the night, when no one else would be there to witness his weakness.
The ritual was simple—grabbing his angry cock and releasing what he could of his frustration. He cleansed himself of his daydreams, purged his fantasies, and in the hot water and steam of the baths, he renewed his resolve to finally put aside his desire for Lady Aislinn.
It didn’t matter what he or his snarling, unhappy beast wanted, becauseshedidn’t want him.
It was that simple.
Hakon bared his tusks in agonized fury at the wall and pumped his fist harder.
She hadn’t come to him in over a week. No projects, no requests. She wasn’t even taking all her meals in the dining hall, so when he did see her there, he had to look his fill and make it last.
She doesn’t want you.
That’s what this had to mean. She found him enjoyable and useful enough, but she had more important things to see to. He was merely staff.
It’s what he’d been trying to convince his beast of for weeks, but the dogged thing wouldn’t listen.
