a little, touched. “Man, you are really good at this. Or really bad. Are we fighting or is this like a compliment hour? So far, sir, you are winning.”
His thumb sweeps over my cheek, stroking. Sweet.
“What’s the real issue here?” I search his face. “You think I’m going to toss you aside? You think I’m going to see someone else, someone better, then get gone of you, don’t you?”
His flinch says yes.
“Bash… there is nobody else for me. I mean it: I’m with you. We’re a done deal.”
When he raises his head, his horns coming up slowly, he regards me so solemnly. “Isla, I vow to you, I want to believe that.”
I sink against him, inwardly cursing the Gryfala-related events that screwed up his head. “You aren’t going to chain me in your cave all day.”
He looks less sure about this fact than I am, so I tug the manacle from his hand and send it thunking to the floor. “What can I do to help this along? Help you believe that I—as your sexy, sexy, irresistible siren—will remain chaste and faithful to you and only you?”
“Are you making light—”
“No, no, never. I’m serious. What can I do to help? Break time blow jobs?”
(I showed him what those were during the long hours of the night. Nearly choked to death on a dick, but it was worth it. He looked at me like I was a dirty, dirty angel. His angel. It gave me all the feels.)
Bash’s ears pop to attention. “Mark this moment. It’s the first time I’ve heard of a human break where I’ve approved with all of my hearts.”
“Bet that's not the only organ you’re feeling approval in,” I tease.
“No, it is not,” he purrs back at me, hooking a talon in the waistband of my leggings and hauling me in close.
I put my fingers against his lips. “Seriously. What would soothe your worries besides a chastity belt?”
Bash slowly pulls back. But his eyes, they don't leave mine. “What is a chastity belt?”
CHAPTER 38
ISLA
If leggings show panty lines, a chastity belt has no hope of hiding. Which means a wardrobe change. Which frankly I'm not too broken up about. Because do you know how hard it is to fight compression leggings up with only one hand? If we’re really about to do this, skirts and bare legs from now on it is.
First, we hit the human compound so I can grab skirts and my belongings. We’re in and out before hardly anyone is awake.
(Bash suggested that I wear his ceremonial blanket—which conveniently can be tied in a way that transforms it into a dress—but I didn’t want the family-tree heirloom I got mated in to get ruined, despite Bash’s assurance that it’s made sturdy enough for the rigors of quarry work and dust.)
I settle on wearing a midi dress with a lacy bodice. No tights—but I am wearing underwear. I realize I won’t be keeping them on, but I decide it’ll feel weird to ride in a wagon without them.
Second, we take our Narwari back to the stables where they get turned out in paddocks for the day since they spent the night on leads.
Then we walk. It’s early—so, so goshdarn early—when we (and by ‘we,’ I really mean the Rakhii dragging me) march into the quarry and hoof it right up to the hob who mans the Blacksmith station, Cyden.
I feel a little odd, without pants or leggings. And I’m not sure how a chastity-fitting goes, but I think Bash and I can have a lot of fun if he relaxes.
Right now he’s glaring at his employee for daring to look upon my bared shins. This day is going to be really interesting if Bash can’t drop the territorial attitude. We can’t go around blinding his employees because I barely flashed some leg.
“You will fashion a special belt for Isla,” Bash orders, no preamble.
Cyden freezes with a cylindrical chunk of iron in his hand. Wings flexed open slightly, his brows develop the faintest crease.
I say, “Hey, Cyden. Good morning.”
“No pleasantries between you,” Bash informs him before the hob can do more than open his mouth to return the greeting.
When Bash brusquely informs the male what he wants, and Cyden looks ultra confused, I pipe in. “It’s a belt that covers up a girl’s goodie box.” When both males throw me looks, with the hob appearing more baffled than ever, I add, “That would be the groin. It’s a belt that blocks her groin from crotch cobras.”