important. She honestly didn’t know what to do with herself unless a vampire had a to-do list for her. Picking up a towel, he swiped it over his face and chest and came to her, sitting down on the ground next to the log, his shoulder brushing her foot. She’d brought him a glass of ice water and offered it now, her feet sliding to the ground and her calf pressing against his shoulder. When her gaze slid over his bare chest, it gave him a pleasant idea. With the way things were pricking at him, he didn’t mind giving her something for her to-do list. Or at least taking the lid off that candy jar.
He nodded to the glass. “Rub the ice on me, lass. Help cool me down.”
Aye, that was going to cool him down for sure. A flicker in her eyes suggested she was wise to the irony herself, but she slipped her well-manicured nails into the glass and pulled out one of the cubes. Her cheeks pinkened in a fetching way under his close regard, her lashes fanning her cheeks. Sliding off the log, she folded her legs beneath her so she could lean over him. As she placed the ice against the base of his throat, her attention flitted to his face to make sure it was all right, before she made the ice glide down his sternum. He stayed on his elbows, watching the way she pressed her lips together, her eyes clinging to the movement of the ice. When she cut across his pectoral, following the dragon, then down to the nipple, he shuddered. She paused, but then kept at it, a few more turns there before she worked her way over his sectioned stomach muscles.
His skin was so warm, the ice began to melt almost immediately, so in addition to the cold pressure of the cube, drops of water trickled down his torso. He had a very pleasant vision of her lips making the same track, then lower. He already knew she was well-schooled in how to take a man’s cock in her mouth, sucking him to a state of repletion. Last night, it had been all Evan could do to pull free of her mouth and give over to Niall.
Christ, she wasn’t some whore. While the outside world might not see a distinction, he sure as hell did. Why had Evan opened this door? She didn’t have a will of her own, and Niall wasn’t a damn vampire who was going to assume she was his to use as he pleased, just because she called him Master. It did odd things to him, when she called Evan that, then flicked her gaze toward him, as if the two of them were an extension of each other. He wondered if she realized she did that. Evan obviously had.
She traced the male dragon, the vibrant colors of the scales. When she paused over the crest of the dragon’s head, centered over his heart, he wasn’t surprised she picked out the difference in texture between that area and the rest of the tattoo. If a person looked close, they could see the pattern, a symbol delineated in the design of the dragon’s scales.
“My third mark,” he said.
Every third-marked servant had one, a branded imprint on the skin. It appeared spontaneously after the mark was set, no control over its shape or meaning, except it always seemed to have some discernible significance, not just a random inkblot like a birthmark.
Her brow furrowed. “What is it?”
“The Hebrew symbol for chai. Life.”
“Oh.” He was glad when she changed direction. Intuitive lass. “Do you have a tattoo on your back?”
“Aye.” Shifting to his hip, he showed her the one there. She drew in a breath, not surprisingly. All of the work was striking, but that one always garnered the most attention. Done in black ink, the dragon covered most of his upper back, the wings angled so one curved over the beast’s head and followed the line of Niall’s shoulder, the other curved low so it followed his rib cage. He was a craggy-looking creature, horned and intimidating, but with the character and mystery of an ancient wizard in his steely-eyed expression.
Her fingers slipped over it, following the upper wing. When she reached the ridge of his shoulder, she was touching his hair, loose on his shoulders. She made a tiny stroke of it, a little tug as it caught between her fingers. When he shifted his gaze