Page 51 of Forged Flight

Chapter Fourteen: Micah

Lucan’s bathtub is massive. Which, I suppose, shouldn’t surprise me. It’s a repurposed large metal horse trough—the only thing big enough to accommodate his gigantic frame.

The hot water and steam slowly ease the knots in my shoulders. Sleeping on that hard cave floor last night certainly didn’t do me any favors, even if I spent half the time curled against Lucan’s soft chest.

Heat rushes to my face at the memory.

I fell asleep wrapped in his big, strong arms, Maple curled between us. We kept each other warm in the darkness, trading gentle kisses and soft caresses until sleep finally claimed us.

Honestly, it was wonderful.

But the thing is… I want more.

I want to ravage him.

After thoroughly cleaning myself, I step out of the tub and wrap the fluffy white towel Lucan left for me around my waist. The scent of his soap lingers on my warm, flushed skin—woodsy cedar and sandalwood softened by a hint of citrus. Masculine and rugged, with something sweet underneath.

Just like him.

Taking a deep breath, I step through the doorway and enter Lucan’s bedroom.

He’s sitting at the foot of his bed, still fresh from the bath he took before me. A towel is wrapped around his waist, barely containing him. His dark brown hair is even longer when it’s wet, hanging in damp waves past his shoulders. His large belly spills over the edge of the towel, a trail of thick, curly hair disappearing beneath it.

I hesitate in the doorway, my breath catching in my throat.

His blue eyes meet mine, and a soft smile settles over his lips. “Hi.”

I swallow. “Hi.”

He holds out his hand.

I close the distance between us, slipping my hand into his. He spreads his legs, and I step between his knees. With him sitting and me standing, we’re nearly face-to-face.

The new angle gives me a breathtaking view of his features. His long, curly lashes. The faded scars scattered across his face. The freckles dotting his nose.

Goddess, he’s beautiful.

“Are you all right?” he asks.

I nod. “Yes. I’m just—“ I bite my lip, searching for the right word, but come up empty-handed.

“Nervous?” Lucan guesses.

I shake my head. “No. I’m comfortable with you. I trust you.” I squeeze his hand. “I’m just… this is new for me. I’ve never… been intimate with someone I had deep feelings for.”

Lucan’s face softens. “Aye. Me neither.”

His hands slide to the backs of my legs, and he hauls me up to straddle him. His thighs are thick and solid as tree trunks, warm beneath me and impossibly soft at the same time. I sink into the generous cushion of his lap, perfectly content to stay right where I am.

My throne.

His large hand cradles my head, thick fingers sifting through my curls. “What are you comfortable doing tonight?”

“Anything. Everything?”

A low, rumbling chuckle escapes his chest. “I’m not sure the night is long enough for that, sweetheart.”

The pet name causes a sudden, heated sizzle to radiate through my stomach.