Page 98 of Wicked Ends
The elegant chaise lounge positioned near the windows is unmistakably Lucien’s contribution.
“This is old, isn’t it?” I ask, running my hand over the smooth fabric.
“1763,” Lucien confirms. “Acquired from Paris. I thought it might be a comfortable place for you to read.”
“Or for other activities,” Soren adds with a suggestive eyebrow wiggle.
I roll my eyes, but can’t deny the image of Lucien and me on that chaise sends a pleasant chill down my spine.
The artwork hanging on the walls is definitely Soren’s doing. Beautiful, sensual pieces that manage to be both tasteful and completely inappropriate for a school setting. One particularly striking oil depicts intertwined bodies in a way that’s somehow both erotic and oddly sweet.
“Really, Soren?” I gesture to the artwork.
He shrugs, unrepentant. “Beauty should be celebrated, little witch, as should the pleasures of the flesh. Besides, it’s your private space. No stuffy academy rules apply here.”
I move toward a partially hidden area where gauzy curtains hang from a canopy frame. Beyond them, I spot what looks like hooks embedded in the ceiling and subtle attachments on the walls. My face heats as I recognize what they’re for.
“That would be my contribution,” Ash says from directly behind me. “For when you feel like surrendering control.”
I swallow hard, unable to form a coherent response as images of exactly what might happen in that space flash through my mind.
A familiar “Ribbit!” saves me from having to reply. I spin around.
“Hank!”
My frog familiar sits in the most elaborate terrarium I’ve ever seen, built seamlessly into one of the bookshelves. It’s a miniature wetland paradise, complete with live plants, a perfect little pond, and even what appears to be a tiny hammock.
“We didn’t forget about Hank,” Drake says, smiling at my obvious delight. “He deserves an upgrade too.”
I bend down to peer into the terrarium. “Look at your fancy new digs.” Hank croaks happily, hopping up onto a perfectly positioned rock to stare back at me.
Finally, I turn my attention to what I’ve been purposely avoiding looking at directly—the bed. It dominates one end of the room, a massive thing with a carved headboard, draped in silk and velvet in deep emerald green. The same green as the dress Lucien picked for the ball. The same green as Ash’s eyes.
It’s enormous. Ridiculously, extravagantly huge. Clearly designed to fit five people comfortably.
The implication isn’t subtle.
I turn slowly to face all four of them. For once in my life, I’m speechless.
“So,” Soren breaks the silence, “what do you think? Is it to your liking? Or should we have gone with the pink frills and unicorn motif I originally suggested?”
I laugh. “It’s completely over-the-top and absolutely insane, but perfect.” I take a deep breath. “Just like all of you.”
They exchange glances, some silent communication passing between them, and I realize that they’ve been planning this together, working together, for me.
“You know,” I say, moving toward them with deliberate steps, “this fancy new room definitely deserves a proper housewarming.”
Drake’s eyes widen. Lucien’s lips curve into a smile. Soren looks positively gleeful. And Ash, well he just looks downright dangerous right now.
“What exactly did you have in mind?” Ash asks, his voice husky.
I stop directly in front of them, looking from one to the next. “Well, there’s this ridiculously huge bed that seems to be begging for attention. Would be a shame to waste it.”
“Indeed it would,” Lucien agrees.
I glance back at the bed, then at the four men watching me with naked want in their eyes. “So are we just going to stand herestaring at each other, or are you guys going to help me break in my new room?”
Forty-Four
