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“Do you have any pyjamas?” I asked when he didn’t respond to what I’d said before.
“No.”
Of course he fucking doesn’t. Just like he apparently doesn’t own a goddamn shirt. Even now, the dim glow from the oven in the kitchen was licking around the hard planes of his body, illuminating the taut curves of his shoulders, painting shadows into the hard lines of his abdomen.
His hands went to his hips, as if he were going to take his pants off, then he stopped.
“I won’t look,” I said quickly. “If you want privacy to change or… Or to just take them off. I don’t mind if you sleep naked.”
I did mind. I very much minded, in-fucking-fact. But not because I was alarmed or truly bothered by the idea. But because I was suddenly breathless with the thought of his big body stretched out beside mine without any fabric between us. Well, apart from my own pyjamas, I supposed.
“Doesn’t matter. You’ve already seen me,” he said so suddenly that it took me a second to understand what he meant.
My face burned.
“Oh. God. Sorry. You mean right before we got married.”
“Yes. When I was cleaning up.” His eyes flashed white. “You saw me. And then you told the warden you would marry someone else.” His voice turned clipped. “Anyone else.”
“You heard that?” I gasped, mortified. I’d probably sounded so desperate.
His golden ears twitched.
“Right,” I said, grimacing. “That great Zabrian sense of hearing I keep hearing so much about.” I ran fluttery fingers through my hair. Silar’s gaze tracked the movement with silent… something. Interest? Desire? Irritation? Absolute impassivity? It was impossible to tell.
“I’m sorry, Silar. I was so mortified that you’d caught me looking out the window at you. And then you just stared at me and didn’t shake my hand when I offered it. Which isn’t even your fault. I’m sure Zabrians don’t even shake hands, so it was silly of me to even expect that! But I was… I was terrified you’d change your mind and send me back.”
“Send you back…” He repeated the words oddly, slowly, like it was some foreign language that made no sense to him, even though his translator seemed to be working just fine.
“Maybe your hearing isn’t quite as good as you think it is,” I teased with a small smile that I was certain didn’t reach my eyes. “Because I’m pretty sure what I actually said was, ‘If he doesn’t want me, I’ll marry someone else.’”
“If I didn’t want…” The words trailed off, and I found myself pathetically grateful for it. Because if I’d had to listen to Silar say, “I didn’t want you,” even as a hypothetical sort of repetition of what I’d just relayed, I didn’t think my heart would be able to take it.
When the hell had I become so sensitive to rejection? I was sickly aware of the fact that this had very little to do with the fact that Silar’s rejection of me would be a death sentence and everything to do with the fact that I simply didn’t seem to want Silar to reject me.
Which he kind of already had, to be honest, what with the way he kept booking it out of the room every time I touched the man.
“Did you mean what you said before?” I asked abruptly.
I want to put my tongue inside you… God, it was so vivid in my mind. Like he’d only just spoken the words aloud.
He didn’t ask what I referred to. He simply flicked his tail in his weird Zabrian version of a shrug and said, “I don’t say much. But what I do, I mean.”
Oh. Oh.
And suddenly, my mind was on fire, chasing down every word he’d ever spoken in my presence, Admittedly, there weren’t that many. But some of them had been nice enough.
He’d told me he consented to this marriage. He told me that I didn’t need experience riding shuldu, because he had me.
He told me he wanted to put his tongue inside me.
And maybe he didn’t just mean my mouth…
Oh my God.
“OK! Great! Glad that’s cleared up!” I chirped idiotically, slamming my body down onto the mattress and turning on my side to face the wall. I pretended to sleep, scrunching my eyes shut, every bit of my body finely attuned to Silar’s position as he stood still in the room. The fine hairs on the back of my neck rose in response to what I was certain had to be his gaze dragging over me.
I waited, almost trembling, for him to join me in the bed. He didn’t. Not right away, at least.
