Page 157 of Sage Haven
“Vulnerable?”
He nodded, the shadow in his gaze deepening. “Yes, I got them to destroy the soft parts of myself. My weaknesses…” He said quietly. “So, nothing can break me.”
My eyes drifted to the tattoo over his heart.
“And you think these all make you invincible?”
His smirk was sharp. “No. But I do think they make me look really fucking cool.”
I laughed again. This time it was genuine. “I’m sure your concubines agree.”
His grin widened. “Wildflower,” he murmured, voice thick with amusement, “I’m too preoccupied to entertain any concubines.” He leaned in slightly, his breath warm against my skin. “You’re the first person to ever ask about them and probably the only one I’d ever tell.”
I swallowed hard, absentmindedly playing with the cuticles on my fingers.
His words shouldn’t have mattered, but they did.
Too much.
He was letting me in, and it was dangerous.
For both of us.
His gaze softened, “So, what’s going on in that head of yours?”
I tried to answer.
But nothing came out, just the constant fiddling of my fingernails. A habit I grew accustomed to when I felt unsure.
“How are you feeling?”
His voice was low. Gentle. Like he was asking for something more than just an answer.
I met his gaze.
“I’m okay,” I said, trying to give him more, “Just fine, I guess.”
His brow arched.
“Just fine…you guess?” he continued, “You know, in my house, I want my guests to feel better than just fine.”
I smiled faintly before responding, forgetting what made me nervous in the first place.
“Got any suggestions?” I teasingly asked.
His gaze darkened. “Why don’t you get on your hands and knees and crawl to me?”
My breath stalled in my throat at his directness.
“Why?” My voice was soft, but the heat underneath it was undeniable.
“Because…” he said, his voice rough with promise, “when I’m done with you, you won’t feel ‘just fine.’ You’ll feel immaculate.”
And before I could stop myself—I sank to my knees ready to let him ruin me again.
The heat between us throbbed, thick and consuming, with every inch I closed between us.
His gaze followed my movements—controlled, unreadable—but I saw it.
