Chapter 116: Bold

Ilaria blinked at him, her heart still stumbling all over itself. “Y-your… uh… hair is dripping,” she managed, instantly wanting to throw herself into the nearest moat.

Levan’s lips curved, like he was terribly pleased. “Is it?”

“Yeah,” she said, trying to sound helpful while her brain was evaporating. “Um, do you… want a towel?”

He looked down at himself, then at her, like the question itself was deeply fascinating. “Did you bring one?”

She opened her mouth, closed it, then shook her head in embarrassment. “No…”

He stepped closer, just enough that his shadow brushed over her shoes and she had to tilt her chin up. “Well, do you have anything else to offer me, then?”

Her fingers twitched as if they were arguing with her brain whether they should just… do something. “You mean…?”

“Like your hand,” he suggested softly. “Or just your company.” His voice lowered further, almost conspiratorial. “I find both strangely absorbing today.”

Ilaria swallowed, her voice embarrassingly tiny. “B-but my hand isn’t exactly a towel…”

“No, but it’s warm.” He placed another kiss on her hand. “Warmer than I am at the moment. I’ve been standing under cold water.”

Her heart did something catastrophic. “O-oh. Well… I could…”

She rose onto her toes, hesitation written in every breath, and instead of brushing just the droplet away from his face, she gently cupped his cheek with both of her palms, making Levan went impossibly still.

“There, like this…” she muttered, her eyes shone as she looked up at him. “Is this enough?”

A muscle in his jaw flickered but the shift felt monumental. His breath quieted, the kind of silence that was not empty at all but full as if every part of him suddenly listened only to her. His lashes lowered, not in a slow dramatic way, but like something inside him eased at the warmth of her palm.

And while Ilaria focused on wiping the water from his skin with her thumbs, Levan was not watching her hand at all. He was watching her. Watching the earnest concentration on her face and the way she rose carefully on the tips of her toes just to reach him. As if the smallest, simplest thing she did required all her courage and yet she still did it anyway.

Her thumb brushed his cheekbone, and something in his expression softened, almost painfully so. He exhaled as though the warmth seeped deeper than skin, eyes closing just long enough for her touch to sink into him.

Without thinking, he leaned infinitesimally toward her hand, letting his cheek nudge her palm in a quiet, instinctive nuzzle.

“Ilaria,” he whispered, except it sounded less like a word and more like a plea he had been holding tightly behind his teeth, waiting for the smallest excuse to let it slip out.

“Yes?”

His eyes opened slowly, molten with something she was not prepared to survive. “You missed a spot.”

She hesitated. “…Where?”

“Here.” He angled his head just slightly toward her fingertips, close enough that she could feel his warm breath against her face, waiting and hoping she would follow.

“H-husband…” she squeaked, the word falling out of her before she even realized she said it, like a startled confession.

Her heart thudded so hard she could feel it in her throat. Her knees genuinely weakened like the air had suddenly gone thin. Her vision tunneled alarmingly toward the exact place he was asking for as every rational thought simply abandoned her.

When she did not move, Levan guided her touch closer to the corner of his mouth.

“Here,” he repeated, almost roughly.

Ilaria had not meant to move, but her fingertips brushed against the curve of his mouth anyway. And the moment she touched him there, he exhaled softly. A breath that sounded too much like a surrender as his eyes fluttered closed.

For some reason, it affected him as much as it affected her.

Despite her nerves, she very bravely used her thumb again, brushing along the shape of his bottom lip. It was so soft and warm. She almost could not believe that this was the same lips that had kissed her last night.

“You’re… acting really weird…” She could not help but whisper.

“You’re the one offering, I simply adjusted to the opportunity,” he tilted his head, still nuzzling her hand. “Your warmth is highly distracting, you know that?”

She did not.

“Distracting… how?”

“Extremely,” he said, lips brushing her skin again, his bottom lip grazing her thumb in an almost sensual way. “In ways that defy all logical explanation… and frankly, I am intrigued enough to test the limits.”

Before Ilaria could make sense of what he was trying to say, his mouth closed around the pad of her thumb. Not a bite, just the ghost of teeth, a slow pull of his lips that was barely there and devastatingly intentional.

Heat shot straight up her spine, knocking the strength right out of her legs before she quickly held herself together. She gasped sharply, which only made him furrow his brows for one ruinous second like he was savouring the sound.

Without warning, he pulled back with a firm, deliberate tug that left her thumb tingling where his lips had just pressed. The suddenness made her flinch, and for a heartbeat, she felt the echo of her own daring touch magnified back at her in his sharp, burning response.

Ilaria’s breath hitched, staring at him with wide eyes. She swore her heart had skipped several beats all at once. Her mind spun, dizzying and embarrassingly slow, because surely that was not supposed to feel like… whatever this was.

It was just her thumb, just his mouth, nothing outrageous. And yet, her pulse hammered against her skin as if something scandalous had happened even though it technically had not.

For a heartbeat, she wondered if she’d done something wrong. Or worse, if she had somehow encouraged him. She had never imagined her own boldness could provoke that reaction. Had she broken him or something?

Time seemed to hold its breath with her, the air trembling between them like it was waiting to see what they would do next. And that tiny stumble, her shock, was what finally pulled him back.

Levan’s eyes softened the instant he caught her startled look, the hunger easing into something gentler. He could not bear to see her flustered like that. So sowly, he lowered his hand, letting her thumb which he had bitten rest gently in his palm, his fingers brushing hers in the softest, most sensual way.

While watching her so undone was undeniably satisfying, Levan could not just leave her drowning in that confusion. His intention had not been to frighten or overwhelm her, only to show her how easily she affected him. And truthfully, something about that tiny, earnest touch earlier had undone him first.

“You didn’t expect that, did you?” he asked calmly, as if he were confessing a secret rather than teasing her. “You’re safe. I just couldn’t resist.”

Ilaria’s chest heaved, her brain scrambling for words. “I-I—” she stammered, flustered beyond reason, “Why would you do that—”

He tilted his head to study her, and a faint, almost indulgent smile touched his lips. “Easy,” he said softly, like that one word could untangle all her nerves. “It was an honest reaction. I like seeing you care.”

Ilaria’s mind scrambled with a flurry of heat and disbelief. What just happened? Her cheeks burned as though the sun itself had singled her out, and her hands shook slightly where they hovered uselessly at her sides. Her breath came in tiny, panicked bursts, and every rational thought had completely evacuated the premises.

Was that… was that considered something intimate?

She glanced around, suddenly hyper-aware of the vast training ground surrounding them. The wooden dummies, the scattered weapons, the distant targets… thankfully, there were no knights in sight, no one to witness the most mortifyingly intimate moment of her entire life.

She exhaled shakily, her pulse still hammering, relief and embarrassment mixing in dizzying waves.

When her eyes found Levan again, he was watching her so fondly as though her every flustered heartbeat were the most captivating thing in the world. His gaze was gentle and patient and impossibly warm, and it made her feel like she might combust on the spot if she stayed there any longer.

Her instincts screamed retreat! She wanted to run back inside, hide behind the nearest wall, curl into herself and pretend none of this ever happened. So she pivoted on her heels, cheeks aflame and ready to flee, but before she could take more than a step, a weight suddenly settled on her shoulders.

“Running away from me?” Levan’s voice murmured behind her. His arm came around deliberately, resting across her shoulders, his warmth enveloping her without pressing, just holding.

Ilaria shrieked, more out of pure embarrassment than anything else and immediately buried her face in her hands, pressing her palms into her flushed cheeks as if she could somehow erase the memory of her own daring.

Her fingers trembled, hiding her wide-eyed panic while her body subtly leaned into him despite herself, betraying every instinct she had about escaping. Levan bent slightly, resting his chin on the top of her head like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Hands down, you’re still the most distracting thing here,” he said, chin nudging her head in an attempt to pry her hands away, making her veered her head to the side instead.

Before she could even respond, he lifted his other arm, resting it gently atop his other arm around her shoulders. The motion was careful as he was giving her every moment to adjust. She could feel the beats of his heart against her back, and she felt even more embarrassed knowing that he did not wear anything at all.

“I didn’t do this often. You’re usually the bold one between us,” he said, lifting his hand to hold her wrist, smirking when she literally planted herself like a statue when he tried to move it away. “And yet here you are… hiding, when I finally get to be bold. Why would you make it so hard?”

Since she was not moving, Levan’s hand closed gently around her wrist instead, the contact sending an involuntary shiver up her arm, but she was determined — that he would not move her hand, not if it meant admitting how flustered she really was.

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