You hadn’t heard the knock, not until it was too late.
Sylus’ rich voice had you freeze like a deer in headlights, the sound of it wrapping around you, a stark reminder that you were dripping wet, drunk, and entirely nude.
The door had clicked closed, Sylus no doubt long gone, but heat immediately flooded through you. Having just come out of the shower, you’d realised you’d left the towel on the bed.
It took several long minutes before that thumping warmth within you settled down.
It’s not that you were embarrassed… you weren’t even upset that Sylus had seen you naked… It was just, well, those particular feelings were floating in some strange and undetermined void that was persistently hanging between you. You couldn’t even be sure he regarded you in the same way, with the man being so difficult to decipher.
Stumbling around for your clothes, you found them to be missing, and had to settle on a rich robe crafted from clouds. You pattered down the hall, the cosy thing nearly swallowing you whole as you stuck your head into each of Sylus’ rooms, seeking the man out.
Whirling around, Sylus had his arms folded, cheeks flushed from the wine you’d both partaken in. His tone was teasing, and that mouth of his was tugged up in a soft, amused smile.
There it was again! That frustrating and peculiar hesitation. However, emboldened by alcohol, you were no longer stricken with nerves. You mirrored his posture, returning a lopsided smirk of your own.
“Oh yeah? Wanna take it off me?” Your teasing was a little slurred, but you meant it.
Sylus’ smirk faltered, and that crimson gaze flickered down your form, almost against his will, the way he forcibly dragged it back up to your face. He cleared his throat, that cool demeanour seemingly indisposed thanks to the liquor.
You tugged at the belt, loosening it just enough so the middle parted, revealing the valley of your breasts. With a heavy sigh, you fanned at your flushed cheeks and neck. “You can have it back. Too warm in this thing.”
You went to keep tugging, so the entire robe would fall away, exposing you once again—except this time, with intent.
“I have your clothes,” he interrupted, almost boyish. “I had them cleaned while you showered.”
“Hmmm,” you tapped the corner of your mouth as you pretended to ponder that. “I don't think I need them.”
And with drunken courage, you let the plush robe drop to the floor. Sylus remained quiet as he drank you in, and as a muscle in his jaw twitched, he finally spoke.
“I wholeheartedly agree.”
Even tipsy, the man had a way with words.
Taking a step forward, Sylus stifled a breath. Once you were right in front of him, your fingers brushed the buttons of his shirt, murmuring, “Your turn.”
