But then Aron absently moves his hand over my breast in a casual caress and I’m lit up with need all over again. I squirm in his lap, the hot bar of his erection pressing against my backside. “You’re doing that on purpose,” I tell him, accusing.

I just get another lazy, heated smile, as if he loves torturing me like this.

I kind of love it, too. I know I shouldn’t, but…when in Rome and all that.

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51

By the time the party winds down, I’ve drunk several jugs of wine, probably eaten an entire cake all on my own, and I’m so aroused and horny that I can barely walk back to the quarters I’m supposed to share with Yulenna. Aron keeps an arm firmly around my shoulders as we head up the stairs, flanked by Markos and the others. Lady Gerline cast a few longing looks in Aron’s direction, but I’m pleased that he completely and utterly ignored her. As far as he’s concerned, she doesn’t exist.

We head up to Yulenna’s chamber, the one the anchor’s supposed to be sharing with Aron. There are a few guards in the hall, but Aron glares at all of them until they make a hasty exit, and then it’s only Kerren at the door.

Aron glances at the four men, his arm still locked possessively around my shoulders. “This chamber is going to be mine and Faith’s alone. No one is to enter without my express permission. You can wake us at dawn. No earlier.”

Markos’s face turns bright red again and he gives Aron a crisp salute. “Of course, my lord. No one will disturb you or your anch…ah, female.”

Solat and Vitar try to hide their grins, while Kerren manages to keep a straight face. It’s obvious what’s going through their heads, though. They saw Aron groping me all night. Now they’re all going to think we’re fucking.

Wait, are we fucking? I’m flustered at the thought, but even so, my nipples are hard and my body pulses with awareness of Aron’s big frame and the crackling energy that surges through his body to mine. His casually possessive touches all night have me totally primed and ready, and I admit that if I had panties, they would have slid off my legs hours ago, too soaked to stay on.

Aron nods at them, and then heads down the hall with me. Before we can even get to the door, Yulenna is there, covered in my cloak, her satchel in her arms. She gives us a little bow and then scurries down the hall to where Kerren and the others are waiting. She must have heard…or she guessed. Either way, some of my guilt disappears at the thought of kicking her out of her room. Clearly she’s been expecting it all along.

That means it’s just me and Aron and a great big bed.

We enter Lady Gerline’s private chambers—now our chambers for as long as we’re visiting. There’s a warm fire in the hearth, and a covered dish on a table next to a ewer of wine. I ignore all of it, though, flustered and heated with need. Is Aron going to touch me? Kiss me again? Or is he waiting for me to make the first move? I look over at him, but he heads toward the bed, undoing his sword belt and pulling off his new clothing.

I lick my dry lips, my pulse pounding. “Do you want me to get naked, too?” My voice is breathless with arousal.

“No.” The bastard gives me an inscrutable look.

That…isn’t what I expected to hear. “No?”

He shakes his head. “I will not be touching you again this night. It would be a mistake.”

I stiffen in outrage. “So what was that out there? Just a show? Was your dick hard just for show, too?”

Aron just glares at me, as if I'm bringing up stuff he'd rather not talk about right now. Well, I don't give a fuck what he wants. I'm hurt that he's all over me all night—I can still feel the heat of his hand under my dress—and then the moment the door closes, he goes cold again. For a moment, I think about all the people downstairs, still fucking and swapping partners like it's no big deal. They're having a grand time. I consider telling Aron I'm going to go down there and join them, but it's the last thing I want.

I thought before tonight that I wanted to be left alone. Now I know that's not the truth—I want Aron to touch me. I want him to give in to this crazy attraction that we've been fighting. I'm ready for it. I'm ready for more of his touch. I've wanted him for what seems like forever. I don't care that he's a god, or that he's arrogance personified. He's Aron and my traveling companion, friend, and protector. I want the guy.

Powerfully.

"Fine," I tell him when he says nothing. I move to the bed and toss aside the wide belt that cinches my dress closed. It gapes open and I undo the one small tie holding it together, and then shuck it, too. I'm completely naked in front of him, and while we've bathed in front of each other several times, it feels different tonight. Tonight, my breasts are tight with need, my nipples aching from his caresses. Tonight, my pussy's flooded with wetness, and he's going to ignore all of that.

And it's killing me.

His hard gaze sweeps over my body, and he arches an eyebrow at my nudity, as if quietly asking if this is some sort of ploy. It's not, though. It's more like a “fuck you.”

I shake my head and get into bed, pulling the covers up to my chin and turning my back to him.

"You wear no nightclothes," he points out, and the bed sinks with his weight behind me.

"Yeah, well, they didn't give me any," I tell him. "So just keep your hands to yourself while I sleep if it bugs you." Normally he puts his hands on my waist and holds me against him as I sleep, and I'm desperately hoping he'll do it anyhow. If he's so immune to everything my nudity shouldn't matter, should it?

"You're angry," he says, and I can't tell if it's a statement or a question.

I thump the pillow and stare at the wall, even though his presence is looming behind me, larger than life. There's a knot in my throat that I can't quite shake, and I swallow a few times before I give up and speak anyhow. "You didn't have to kiss me like it meant something," I whisper.

"No one said it did not mean anything."

I turn around and sit up to look at him. The blankets fall to my waist, and I'm rather viciously pleased to see that his gaze flicks to my naked breasts before going back to my face. His arms are crossed over his massive chest, and the expression on his face is hard and unyielding as ever.

But that's not the only part of him that's hard. Even through the skirted part of his tunic, his cock bulges against his clothing, making it obvious that he's affected.

Good. I want him to be affected. I want him to be as aching with need as I am.

"Faith," Aron says, and his voice is softer and gentler than I've ever heard it. "You are my anchor. I must protect you from everything if I am to ensure that we both return to our proper places. I cannot become distracted."

My nipples feel like they get even harder at his tone, and I arch my back just a little, letting him get a good look at what he's missing out on. "And you think I'm distracting?"

"A mortal liaison would be distracting."

I don't like how vague he's trying to make that. I slip a hand to my breast, thumbing my finger over my nipple and sure enough, his gaze flicks there again and his mouth tightens. "But am I distracting?"

"You always distract me, Faith." The air practically crackles around us and shivers with intensity, like it did downstairs. If anything, his gaze is more intense than ever before.

"Good," I tell him, and lie back down, tugging the covers back up. "I'm glad both of us are going to bed with blue balls."