Fantastical (Fantasyland #3)(46)

I struggled to find my voice, found it and asked, “Where did you bathe?”

His head jerked and I belatedly noticed he’d been staring, quite intently, at my body and my words startled him out of a reverie.

His eyes cut to my face and he answered, “My bath.”

“You have a bath?” I asked as he got closer.

“Yes.”

“Is it somewhere else in the castle?” I enquired, thinking that was weird and also thinking of him walking the vast halls of his home in a towel and leaving swooning maids in his wake.

“No,” he replied, stopping in front of me, his big hands going to my waist. “I have a private bath and you have a private bath. They’re separate. I used mine…” his eyes slid over my wet hair, “and apparently you used yours.”

We both had our own bathrooms?

Whoa. Cool!

“Cool,” I smiled up at him.

His hands slid up to my ribs. “Have you eaten?”

“Yes, have you?”

“Yes.”

“The food was really good,” I informed him.

“Excellent,” he replied. “Now get in my bed.”

I blinked. “What?”

“If you don’t want me to take you on the balcony, you need, right now, to get that beautiful arse of yours in my bed.”

My belly dipped and my knees went weak.

Uh-oh.

“Tor,” I whispered and his fingers bit into my ribs as his body edged an inch closer.

“Now, Cora,” he ordered low.

“Um…”

“I said now.”

I placed my hands lightly on his biceps and suggested, “I think maybe we should take a few moments to discuss where this is going, um… between you and me and all of the ramifications of that, um… considering, you know, that I might be catapulted back to my world at any time.”

“And, sweets, I think you should decide how much you like those charming garments you’re wearing for, if you don’t move toward my bed in three seconds while discarding them, I’ll be ripping them off you.”

Heat hit my cheeks and between my legs.

Uh-oh!

“Tor,” I whispered, “this is getting complicated. We need to talk.”

“One.”

Oh dear.

“Honey, we might be making a huge –”

“Two.”

I stared up at him and I knew by the determined look on his handsome face that he was, well… determined.

And I had a strong suspicion that when Prince Noctorno was determined to get something, he got it.

And that would include me.

And try as I might, in that instant, after the last four days, I couldn’t find it in me not to give it to him.

Therefore I begged, “Please don’t rip my clothes. I like them a lot.”

“Three,” he replied, I braced but he didn’t rip my clothes off. He dipped a shoulder and then I was up and he was stalking to the bed.

Oh God. Now what did I do?

I had to stall in order to set some ground rules.

I didn’t struggle but wrapped my fingers around his waist.

God, his skin was soft but his muscles were hard and he was warm all over.

Shit!

“I’m not sure I’m ready for this,” I told his back.

“Don’t worry, love, I’ll get you ready.”

Oh boy.

“I think we should… oh!”

I cried out because he tossed me over his shoulder and I landed on my back on the downy covers of his soft bed.

He towered over me, still as a statue except his eyes which travelled the length of me, their path burning my skin like it was a physical thing.

Oh God, I was in trouble.

“Tor –”

“Take off your dressing gown,” he ordered.

My brows drew together. “My –?” I started to ask.

“Take it off, Cora, or I will and I won’t be gentle.”

Holy crap.

I got up on my elbows. “Tor!”

He pulled off his bathsheet.

I started hyperventilating.

I was not wrong. He had great thighs. And there was something else about him that was great too. So great, just looking at him in all his glory, I forgot to be nervous, scared or wonder what future lay ahead of me.

I just wanted all of that for me.

And I was going to get it. I knew this when he fell forward, his arm coming out to control his fall, his hand landing in the bed beside me, him landing mostly on me.

But he held his body away and he did this in order to untie the satin sash of my robe, doing it with a non-too-gentle yank that jerked my whole body with it.

The heat between my legs intensified and got wet.

Or wetter.

Oh my.

“Uh –” I started.

“Quiet,” he ordered, shoving the chiffon aside.

“I think –” I tried again.

“Quiet,” he repeated then yanked the nightgown up.

Oh… my.

“Um –”

He settled on top of me.

“I don’t like this scent,” he grunted, a hand gliding up my side. “It reminds me of the you that you used to be. Change it.”

“Uh, okey dokey,” I whispered and shivered.