*Oliver*
I needed to escape the bedchamber. More specifically, Serphine's nearness. She's stretched out on my settee, covered only by a blanket, the firelight dancing across her skin. I want to go to her, take her in my arms, and warm every inch of her with my own body.
Initially, the thought was innocent enough, born of pity for her bloodless pallor and trembling. But her sharp tongue has shifted my musings toward a more sensual heat, a fire that would burn for centuries. Her wit has made me laugh, and it's been far too long since I've been amused.
I've heard her speak only a few times, but her confidence always captivates me. The slow, deliberate way she speaks, like a sated she-wolf rolling out of bed… everything about her screams sexuality, designed to arouse.
Even now, bruised a
