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“But I do have this.” He suddenly unwraps something from in his hands. I never thought I’d be this happy at the sight of my favorite blanket.

I hold out my hand, expecting Svenn to come closer to pass it over or throw it to me, but he does neither.

I’m suddenly nervous again.

“May I have the blanket?” I try calmly.

“Of course.”

I am comforted by his quick answer.

“Now get in here,” he says, spreading the fabric wide in between his hands to welcome me. Any spark of relief I had earlier vanishes at the command.

“I’m not going to run into your arms naked!”

“It wouldn’t be the first time.”

Heat blasts my cheek at the memory of me jumping at him on our wedding night like a happy rabbit.

Nope, nope, nope. That was his venom’s fault because he licked me in the labyrinth.

I press my lips together, determined not to beg for a piece of cloth. But the water is cooling fast. I can’t stay in this tub forever or I’ll freeze to death.

“Close your eyes,” I tell him.

“Say please.”

“Please,” I mutter into the wind.

“I didn’t catch that.”

This cruel man.

I say it again and he obliges to my demand, shuttering his eyelids slowly.

I prance towards him in long strides. Tension pulses in my veins once I reach him. It’s the same kind of terror I feel whenever I crossed paths with a monster in the forbidden forest. But unlike the beasts there, Svenn doesn’t need fangs and claws to intimidate.

He’s lethal and dangerous just by standing there with his eyes closed. The flash of lighting in the background only adds to the horror scene.

I push the fear away and try snatching the blanket from his firm grip. He keeps it out of my reach. His evasion technique is far better than our usual practice. He probably lied about closing his eyes.

“Give me that!” I make another pathetic attempt to get the soft sheet but it’s impossible. Frustration gnaws at me and I whirl around to leave.

Svenn suddenly catches me faster than the carnivorous trap plant in Astefar.

“Oh gods. What are you doing?” I gasp before I can stop myself.

The shock doesn’t have time to fully register in my system. He runs the blanket over my stomach, then down to my backside and in between my legs. His hand is not even directly touchingme, and yet the pressure of it ignites a buzzing sensation on my skin.

“Helping you,” he finally answers.

I don’t know if it’s the cold making everything feel so sensitive, but I feel each one of his touches all the way to my core.

“Svenn…” His name falls from my lips.

He pays careful attention to specific areas, my breasts especially. My body writhes beneath his touch and my breathing turns into stunted gasps.

“I can do this myself,” I protest, but it sounds more like a breathy moan.

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