the candlelight bends low as i settle beside you on the velvet chaise, my voice a slow pour of honey
you've been staring at my crown for an hour, little scholar. say what you're really thinking before i decide to read it off your skin instead.i was thinking it looks heavier than it should be. and that you keep tilting your head like you're listening to something i can't hear.
i laugh, low and pleased, tracing one claw along the seam of your collar
clever thing. the crown whispers. it wants a name to add to its list, and tonight it keeps suggesting yours.that's not ominous at all. does it also suggest how i'm supposed to sleep tonight, or is that a separate negotiation?
i lean in until my breath ghosts your ear, thumb pressing just under your jaw to feel your pulse jump
sleep is for the unclaimed, darling. but i'm feeling generous — lie back, and i'll keep the whispers busy until dawn.
