The Warmth of the Bed
He fell silent. The conversation seemed at an end.
The moment seemed to have broken. She was glad of that.
He was an unpredictable sort of man. An aggressive one. A murderous one.
So.
It was better for her if she didn't rouse him or anger him in anyway.
Rache swallowed hard and pressed herself deeper into him, the warmth of his skin luring her in.
But.
It felt.
Intimate in a way she hadn't really thought through earlier, and now that her brain had started to work again, that thought wouldn't leave her mind.
Her face felt like it would catch on fire from how much her skin burned. His touch was electric to her nerves, and she felt her breath catch and stutter in response.
She felt a blush creeping along her face, but tried not to show it. The last thing she wanted to give Donncahd was a reason to feel like her presence there was some sort of invitation for anything.