Page 10 of The Shadow Prince's Ruin
My heart is beating out of my chest, yet he just gives me a cocky grin.
“Mrs. Moor is sleeping downstairs, so we must refrain from loud noises,” I say, all too aware he has not let go of my hand.
His fingers are so long, so thick, and the meat of his palm—almost as hot as his tongue was. He towers over me like a bear standing on two legs, and when he sweeps me close, I sense the fresh sweat and laundry detergent, my whole body pulses.
“So… where is your shower, my princeling?”
“Oh… I do not mean to be unaccommodating, but after a whole afternoon and evening surrounded by greasy fried foods, I must wash, and Mrs. Moor might notice if two showers are taken. She startles awake sometimes, and we cannot rouse her suspicions.”
I glance down at his knuckles, once more wondering if the stains are dried blood. He ate with those hands though. Surely this is just my imagination playing tricks on me because of my worry-prone disposition.
He removes his baseball cap, releasing a flood of thick, dark brown hair that reaches a bit past his shoulders. It’s frizzy, likely from being stuffed under the hat without much care, but I barely keep in a whine of appreciation, because the locks somehow make him appear even more handsome. Beastly. Which I shouldn’t like. But I do.
“Let’s shower together,” he says, startling me into a stupor.
My finger reaches my teeth but as soon as I realize I’m about to nip on it, I stuff it into my pocket. He cannot see how nervous he makes me with his casual suggestions.
“T-together…” I repeat, desperate to give myself more time to think.
Hawk hums, and as he takes a step toward me, I cannot resist falling into his eyes. They’re green, like a field full of moss and fern and flecked by lightning bugs. “Yeah. It would be only fairfor me to see what I’m getting in this bargain, since you already got to assess my shadow,” he says with a confident smirk.
My brain is overheating, then melting, because he’s right. I owe this to him.
But I don’t even have a servant dress me at the Nocturne Court because of how inadequate I feel in my body. My older brother never spared me any mockery. He might have been a reed, where Hawk is a sprawling oak, but he was tall, elegant, wide-shouldered. Me? I am a frail branchlet, broken off from the grand Goldweed tree prematurely.
I stare into Hawk’s eyes without blinking. He doesn’t seem set on humiliating me, and he kissed me with the fervor of a man on his wedding night, so…
I take a deep breath and grab his hand. I must be brave. I owe this to the Goldweed name. “Let us do so,” I say and pull him along.
I can’t remember ever being thisawareof another man’s presence, but Hawk’s closeness burns me even in all the places where we’renottouching. He is surprisingly quiet for someone of his size, but the moment I lock the door behind us, revealing the white tiles covering every bit of wall and floor, nervousness replaces the worry that we might be overheard.
Hawk grins. “A walk-in shower. Hell yes! I haven’t been in a bathroom this nice in ages,” he whispers, and I decide not to point out that my bathing chamber at the Nocturne Court was larger than Mrs. Moore’s living room and featured a whole garden of medicinal plants.
I guess this tells me something about him, as did his lack of car. If he is poorer than the average human, talking him into becoming my Dark Companion should be easier.
In the bedroom, we had the soft green glow, but here, the stark white light is almost blinding, and I am painfully aware that he will get a good look atallof me. I don’t want to be a cowardanymore, I want to be a man my mother won’t deem unworthy of even saying goodbye to.
Yet I pause, stiff as a dead tree when faced with a man Hawk’s size in close quarters. I stare down at his shadow, so alive with the need to be bound. He’s not a shadow-wielder, so he cannot see it, but its darkness is like a void, as if he were standing in thin air over an endless chasm. If I step in, will I fall?
I clear my throat. “I would just like you to take into account that despite my size, my body can offer many pleasures.” I cringe, regretting my wording already. Damn it. I should have been more enticing. More flirtatious. More…something.
Hawk blinks, already, opening the zipper at the front of his hoodie. He cocks his head and cups the side of my face with that massive hand. “Hey, I know I’m a big, scary-looking guy, but you can breathe, okay? I’m gentle as a lamb.”
Only when he says that do I realize that my breaths have been shallow. I inhale and nod.
“It’s just that the situation is quite peculiar. Indeed, I’ve never seen a man like you.”
Thinking becomes much harder when he takes off the hoodie, revealing his strong body covered in not only tattoos but also thick, dark hair that reaches his wrists. I touch his forearm, too curious for my own good.
The deer etched into his flesh where I choose to place my fingers seems to flinch at my attention, and a little shiver goes down my spine as the dark hair tickles my skin. And there’s so much more of it within reach! On his chest, over the pile of bones marked with the wordsRIP Grandpa, and the left pec, where four paw prints sit as if the small animal that left them was there moments ago.
“A man like me?” Hawk asks, unbuttoning the top of my shirt.
“S-sohairy,” I utter in amazement even though I tremble with nerves as my own skin is revealed inch by inch. I’ve been taughtto be reserved, to think my words through, but everything about the body in front of me defies logical analysis. “May I?” I ask, hovering my hand over his stomach, and when he nods with an amused expression, I press my palm to the coarse hair and thick muscles.
The tips of my ears burn, and I’m losing my mind. He is lust personified, and I’m powerless. We’re not even doing much, and I’m already getting hard.
Even his scent, while tart, as if he’s been working all day, is not unpleasant, and when he leans closer, I’m initially too brainless to react in any sensible way. Then, he picks me up by the butt, my growing erection presses to his stomach, and he’s licking my cheek as I lose my footing and frantically hold onto his shoulders.
