Page 131 of Ashen Torment

“It is your fault.”

I remain hesitant, my heart beating in my throat. “Do you desire men?”

He stiffens, his forehead lifting slightly to look me in the eyes, his features turn rigid.

“What has that to do with anything? I...I am speaking of you—”

“Your body.” I point to where his lower body presses against mine, sensing the erection straining beneath his wet trousers. “It speaks.”

His breathing quickens, jaw set, eyes fixed in mine.

“That is irrelevant.”

“That is what your words mean,” I retort, pushing him away with my hands.

This time, he offers no resistance.

I sit up, gaze fixed on the rain sliding from the shack’s roof.

“Yours is nothing but lust.”

“I have never been accustomed to such vexations,” he grumbles, “it is you who—”

“Do not worry, then. It will pass,” I interrupt, without looking at him.

I feel him hesitate, confused, his chest rises and falls more rapidly, his fingers twitching as if he wanted to grab me but didn’t dare.

“What are you saying? Can you perhaps say that I am indifferent to you? Do not lie, Viscount. I feel the tremors of your body.”

“It is the body you desire, then.”

“I did not say that.”

I lean in slowly, my voice becoming a whisper beside his ear.

“Then, if I gave it to you now, would you say no?”

I look at him, his eyes follow me, then drop to my lips.

“Would you give it to me?”

“No.”

I stand up and retrieve the blanket.

“You are absurd, you won’t admit—”

“Admit what, Lord Dorian?” I reply, wrapping the blanket tight around my body in front of him.

“Say it again.”

“What?” I ask, breath still heavy.

“My name,” he murmurs, his voice huskier, almost a restrained growl, his eyes burning into me.

“Lord... Dorian,” I repeat slowly, articulating every syllable.

I see him draw back, his back sliding slowly, and finally he lets himself fall to the ground, lying flat, bringing his hands to his face.