Page 70 of The Last Knight

Padriag grinned broadly and followed suit, lifting his glass. “About bloody time.”

Gunther, ever composed, dipped his head with a small smile, but his fingers tightened gently around Aubrey’s. She raised her glass too, heart full, and met the clinks of glass with a quiet joy blooming in her chest.

They sat together a while longer, the meal behind them, yet no one was in a hurry to leave the table. Laughter came easier now. The air felt lighter. And, as the candle flames danced and the night wore on, it felt, for the first time in a long while, that something beautiful was just beginning.

That night, Aubrey lay sprawled across the top of her comforter, the soft cotton of her tank clinging to her skin, her underwear barely offering any warmth. The room was cool, but her body hummed with heat. Her skin tingled, and her cheeks were flushed, not from the wine, but from where her thoughts lingered. Her mind wouldn’t settle. Not when the man she wanted was in the room beneath hers.

She rolled onto her side with a frustrated huff, the fabric beneath her rustling as she shifted. Her pulse quickened just imagining him, his strong hands, his steady gaze, the way he’d kissed her earlier with such raw intensity. They’d only just begun to reconnect, to open that long-latched door between them. Would it seem needy if she went to him now? Desperate?

But the longer she lay there, the more ridiculous the idea seemed. She wanted him. Maybe not even for sex, though her body certainly didn’t mind the thought, but for closeness, for comfort, for the quiet reassurance of his presence beside her. She didn’t want to sleep alone tonight.

Enough second-guessing, she told herself and swung her legs off the bed, her feet padding silently against the cool floor. Her heart beat a little faster with every step down the stairs, her breath shallow, anticipation fluttering in her belly. The hallway was dim, the only light spilling from the moon outside, painting silver across the walls.

When she reached his room, the room that had once been hers, she paused, her hand resting on the doorknob.

She knocked gently, her voice barely above a whisper as she eased the door open. “Gunther? Are you asleep?”

“No,” came the groggy, husky reply—his voice thick with sleep and velvet-soft. He had been asleep. Still, he sat up, eyes half-lidded, and extended a hand toward her. “Come here.”

Without hesitation, Aubrey crossed the room. She slid beneath the covers, immediately enveloped in the lingering warmth of his body. The bed was cozy, the scent of him, earthy, clean, unmistakably Gunther, settling around her like a second blanket.

“I couldn’t sleep,” she murmured as she nestled against him.

He wrapped his arms around her from behind, pulling her close, her back flush to his chest. He pressed a gentle kiss to her temple, his lips warm against her skin. “I’m glad you came to me,” he whispered, his voice heavy with drowsy affection.

She smiled into the darkness, feeling the steady rhythm of his breathing as it slowed. Within minutes, the soft sound of his snores filled the room, low, even, comforting.

Wrapped in his arms, her body relaxed completely, and for the first time in days, Aubrey drifted into sleep with a full heart and peace in her soul.

A delicious, slow-building sensation stirred Aubrey from sleep. Awareness returned in a hazy wave, and she immediately remembered. Gunther’s room. His bed. His arms.

The room was draped in a soft, golden hue, the earliest rays of morning sun spilling through the curtains. The gentle light fell across the sheets and cast just enough light to see.

Her eyes fluttered open, only to fall closed again as a shiver of pleasure swept through her. Gunther’s mouth was trailing up the curve of her neck, each press of his lips so tender, so perfect. When he reached the sensitive spot just below her ear, he lingered, his tongue circling slowly, deliberately, until her breath caught in her throat.

She remained facing away, her back tucked snugly against his chest, his warmth surrounding her. His hand, large and sure, slid from her waist, fingertips trailing over her ribs before cupping her breast with reverent care. The contact sent a jolt of sensation through her, and when his tongue flicked gently along the shell of her ear, she couldn’t hold back a soft moan.

“Gunther,” she whispered, instinctively pressing back into him. Her hips shifted, her bottom brushing against the unmistakable hardness nestled behind her.

He groaned quietly, his breath hot against her skin. The way he touched her, slow, unhurried, full of intent, made her body ache in the most exquisite way.

“Gunther…” she breathed, the word more air than sound, as his fingers teased her nipple through the thin fabric of her top. The friction was delicate yet electrifying, each caress sending trails of heat spiraling to her very core.

Needing him to join her, for his body to react to her touch the way hers did when he caressed her, Aubrey reached between them and encircled his thick erection, slowly moving her hand up and down the silken shaft until rewarded with a husky moan.

The flat of his palm moving down her body, claiming every inch, fueled the flames of passion. Every part of her burned, searing with need. Unable to withstand the wonderful assault as she continued to pleasure him, she threw her head back, turning her face so that he could take her mouth.

Still, both needed, wanted more.

The feel of him, hard and smooth in her hand, was almost too much to take. Silken skin stretched over the taut arousal, seemed to pulse as she stroked him. At the same time, his hands roamed her body, igniting every nerve they passed.

Gunther’s breath came hot and uneven, fanning across her neck and shoulder, the sound of it stirring something deep inside her. When his hand slipped beneath the delicate lace of her panties and found her center, her entire body arched in response.

Aubrey barely had time to cry out before his mouth claimed hers, catching the sound and turning it into something deeper, shared, intimate.

“I want you,” she gasped against his lips, the words tumbling from her in breathless desperation. “Gunther…”

But she couldn’t say more, couldn’t think, because his fingers moved with devastating precision, teasing her slowly, coaxing her higher with every soft glide and subtle pressure.