Cauldrons and Cat Tails (Moonvale Matches #2)

26. Tandor

CHAPTER 26

Tandor

A massive fireplace crackled in the corner of the brick building, casting a warm orange glow over the dining patrons. Large sconces were dotted along the walls, with more fires dancing in invisible winds. The flames were not enough to overpower the intense darkness, and shadows crept along the floors. Instead of being eerie, the effect was cozy. Snug. It made the room feel protected and private.

Dim light danced over the skin of Kizzi’s face, creating shadows. Under her eye, below her cheek. Carving out the shape of her bones. I ached to reach a hand out and run my fingers over her smooth skin. To see if I could feel the shadows, if they would cling to my skin the way they slipped over hers.

She was art, this little witch. A beauty that made my stomach ache.

If she noticed me staring, she did nothing to stop me.

Her eyes flitted around the room. She took in every detail, never lingering long in one place before glancing to the next folk, the next movement. She was easily distractible. It amused me—watching her be herself. Watching her sit and relax and observe a room.

When her gaze finally made it back to mine, she startled slightly, as though she had forgotten I was there. A blush crept into her cheeks and a shy smile tugged at her mouth, but she held my eyes. We stared at each other for long moments, and even my own face began to feel warm.

“Another mulled wine?” a voice interrupted our moment.

Reluctantly, I dragged my eyes away from the witch and toward the vampire woman that had spoken. “Yes, please. Extra cinnamon.”

She nodded politely. “And you?” she asked Kizzi with a warm smile.

“What? Oh, more wine, sure. Yes. Please.” She cleared her throat and sat up straighter in her chair.

I quirked an eyebrow at her as the vampire flitted off toward the kitchen. “Is the wine getting to you, little witch?” I tsked. “You usually hold your alcohol much better than this.” I raised the nearly empty mug to my mouth and took a sip, draining it to its dregs. Bits of cinnamon followed the wine as it dripped into my mouth, and I held it there to catch every morsel. The perfect spice to counteract the rich fruity taste. The drink was no longer hot, having cooled to a mild warmth, but it was still delicious.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Kizzi mumbled. She picked up a piece of bread and tore a chunk off. She didn’t eat it—she merely squished it between her fingers.

“Sure,” I laughed under my breath. “I can always carry you home, if you’re too unsteady on your feet.”

The blush that crept to her ears was extremely satisfying. I couldn’t fight the smile that forced its way onto my face.

“That won’t be necessary. Like I said, I’m fine.”

The vampire returned with two fresh, steaming mugs and placed them on the table next to our nearly empty plates. Kizzi grabbed her mug immediately, tossing the bit of bread she had balled up in Hex’s direction and instead wrapping her delicate fingers around the drink.

Hex slithered out of the jar to snatch up the bit of bread and absorb it. It was slightly terrifying—I tried not to wonder what else they were capable of engulfing. I glanced around the room to see if anyone had witnessed the ordeal, but the room was too dim, and the nearest patrons were paces away. Just us, then.

We sipped our drinks in charged silence as the noise of the diner flowed around us. We pretended like we weren’t watching each other.

Our eyes played a game of cat and mouse, and I wasn’t sure if I was the predator or the prey.

Eventually, I forced myself to speak. I cleared my throat. “So, Kizzi. Do you think we’re going to find what you’re looking for tomorrow?”

She contemplated this as she ran her tongue slowly over her upper lip. I tracked the movement. A hunger bit at my insides.

“I hope so,” she said finally. “I have a good feeling.”

This intrigued me. “Oh? What do you mean?”

She shrugged noncommittally. “I’m not sure, really.” She glanced around the room as though looking for something. Eventually, her gaze settled onto Hex, where they sat on the edge of the table, resting contently in their jar. “It’s just this… feeling. A knowing, almost. A slight charge to the air, a bit of a pull. It’s on the wind, maybe.”

This made absolutely no sense to me, but I found it fascinating, nonetheless. I knew witches were more in tune with magic than other folk. Of course. Orcs were generally not very magically inclined at all—even less so than humans. I had heard magic described, I had read about it once or twice, but I would never actually get to know it. To feel it.

Back before the Old Gods abandoned the realm, they say magic was so prevalent that most folk could sense it. Use it, even. Access it and manipulate it. What a wondrous time that must have been.

“Well, I hope you’re right,” I mused. “Any other towns to try if you have no luck here?”

She shook her head. “Not anywhere we’ll reach before Hallow’s Eve, I don’t think. We’re going to be cutting it close as it is.”

I held out my mug. “Well, here’s to good feelings, then.”

She tapped her mug to mine with a small smile. “To good feelings.”

M y hand crept to the small of Kizzi’s back as we wandered back to our tent for the night. She didn’t need me to guide her, but I couldn’t help myself. I simply wanted to touch her.

Surprisingly, she let me. I could almost feel the warmth of her through the fabric of her cloak. My fingertips pressed in just a bit harder.

The moons were high in the sky, shockingly bright from our valley in the mountains. Fireflies sparkled all around us. If I reached out, I could surely catch one, but I preferred to leave my hand right where it was.

We walked slowly in the direction of the tent. My breath fogged out in cloud-like puffs in front of me. If I was this cold, surely Kizzi would be freezing. I glanced at her with concern. She looked tense, but she didn’t speed up her pace.

“Sure you don’t need me to carry you?” I asked.

She shot me a glare. “Very funny. My feet work just fine, thank you.”

I slid my hand around to her hip and tugged her closer to me, ever so slightly. “I know they do.”

She simply rolled her eyes, but she let her body brush against mine for the rest of the chilly walk.

The tent was disappointingly warm when we tucked ourselves inside. I fastened the tarp closed with the provided straps.

I was hoping the cold would drive Kizzi into my arms again and force her to wrap her body around mine. To cuddle up against me, and to tuck herself perfectly under my chin.

I considered tugging the tarp open, just a crack, but dismissed the idea almost immediately. Her comfort was more important than my sordid fantasies.

I double knotted the straps.

A small fire crackled steadily in the fire pit. A metal grate covered the pit. The light was dim, but the warmth radiated well enough.

“Turn around,” Kizzi said quietly. “I need to change into my nightclothes.”

With a start, I realized that there was nowhere to go for privacy in this tent. A small partition separated the main room from the washbasin, but the rest of the space was open.

Heat suddenly flooded my veins at the thought of Kizzi removing her clothes. I cleared my throat. “Of course.” My voice was gravel.

I turned and stared at the canvas wall. My ears perked at every sound, every rustle of fabric, every brush of skin against skin. It was torture, being here, knowing she was undressing, but not being able to do anything about it.

My cock swelled painfully in my trousers, and I was suddenly thankful that I was facing the other direction and she wouldn’t be able to see it.

I was frozen, barely breathing.

Eventually, her soft feet padded across the floor, and she slipped into bed. I remained where I was, rooted in place.

My heart thundered in my chest. I silently begged it to slow.

She laughed quietly, and my cock hardened even further. “You can move now. It’s safe.”

It took long moments for her words to break through my haze of lust, but eventually, I forced myself to move. I cleared my throat twice before I could speak. “Right. Yes. I guess I’ll just—” I let the half-formed thought drift away as I shuffled to my bag in the corner. I kept my back facing the bed as I unfastened my cloak and let it drop from my shoulders. I tossed it onto the floor.

I glanced toward the bed to find Kizzi watching me, her eyes gleaming in the darkness. She had the blanket pulled up so high that it was covering her nose, and only the top half of her face was peeking out. Her witch eyes were not as keen as mine, but she still had decent vision. She could see me perfectly fine. I smiled wickedly.

“You can watch, if you’d like,” I murmured as I slowly reached for the laces of my tunic.

“I would never,” she said quietly, but her eyes never closed. Never looked away.

I untied the neck of my tunic and tugged on the laces to loosen them. Slowly, trying my best to look sensual and not awkward, I grabbed the hem and tugged the garment over my head. It was a bit chilly with so much skin exposed, but not uncomfortable. The blanket on the bed would keep me plenty warm.

I tossed the tunic aside, not caring where it landed. I shucked my boots off and kicked them aside too.

Next, I reached for my trousers, relieved to find that my cock had softened enough to not jut vulgarly from my body. I tried not to think about Kizzi’s eyes feasting on my flesh—that thought threatened to send my blood racing again.

I unfastened the button and let my trousers slip down my thighs. They pooled around my feet.

A quiet inhale of breath from the bed let me know that the little witch was still watching.

I stood for a moment in just my undershorts, debating if I wanted to don my sleep pants. I would be uncomfortably warm if I did, but they would add an extra layer between Kizzi and me.

Did I want an extra layer between us? Absolutely the fuck not. But did she?

I could still feel her eyes boring into my back, nearly burning me with their intensity.

I decided to take a risk.

I kicked the trousers aside and strode to the washbasin, quickly washing my hands and mouth. When I turned to the bed, Kizzi’s eyes were closed, but she was breathing too quickly. Her lids were clenched too tightly.

She was faking.

I cracked a grin. Sneaky witch.

I poked the fire and slid the grate aside until the flames were low but steady, and most of the light was blocked out. Darkness ascended. There was enough glow to see by, but only just.

I made my way to my side of the bed and slipped under the covers.

Kizzi didn’t move a muscle. She remained perfectly still as though she were made of stone. Tense, rapidly breathing stone practically vibrating with restrained energy.

I turned on my side to face her. The bed was warm from her body heat, and her sweet apple scent delicately perfumed the air.

For long moments I just watched her. The side of her face, the slope of her nose, the way her upper lip flicked out just slightly. Her eyelashes draped across her cheek like feathers.

I began to feel drowsy, but the desire to stare at her pretty profile overrode my desire for sleep.

After a long time, she sighed and rolled to face me. Her eyes flicked open and narrowed slightly. Accusatorily. She tucked one of her hands under the pillow to rest below her cheek. I was jealous of that hand.

Beneath the blanket, her foot crept forward and brushed against my shin. Barely, just a butterfly’s wing against my skin. But it was more than nothing.

The bed was large enough that we wouldn’t touch accidentally.

Hesitantly, I let my hand drift toward her. The rustle of the blanket was quiet, only rivaled by the sound of crackling embers, critters chirping in the distance, and our breathing.

Her breaths halted when my fingertips made contact. They danced along the curve of her hip, where it dipped into her waist. I froze for a moment to see if she would push me away. If she would retreat.

She didn’t.

I let the weight of my hand settle onto her hip. The fabric of her nightshirt was soft and smooth, but I ached for the feel of her skin.

Our eyes bored into each other in the darkness. Her gaze smoldered.

When Kizzi breathed again, it was on a sharp inhale as my hand sought the hem of her nightshirt and slid beneath it. Her skin was warm and even silkier than I imagined. I let my hand rest there on her hip, content to just feel her skin on mine. I allowed my fingertips to wander only slightly, drifting around her hip to the small of her back.

I ached to grab onto her, to yank her into me, to shove my face against her soft flesh, but I resisted. If this was all she allowed, it would be enough.

My fingertips tingled where they touched her.

I let my eyes drift closed as my fingertips continued their gentle stroke over Kizzi’s hip.

I wouldn’t push the witch any further. I didn’t want her to flee.

A frog croaked somewhere in the distance, a soothing, distracting rhythm.

The blankets rustled quietly as Kizzi moved. I was sure she would pull away, would roll away from me, but my heart jumped in my chest when I realized that wasn’t the case.

She inched toward me. Only slightly. The space between us was shrinking—she was close enough that I could feel her breath drifting across my face. My hand slipped lower, spanning the width of her lower back. I gently dug my fingertips into the muscle there, but I didn’t pull her closer. Not yet.

Her foot snaked out again, brushing my shin. A teasing stroke. When I shifted slightly, she slipped her foot over my leg and hooked her heel around my calf. She tugged, just a bit.

A low, quiet laugh rumbled from my chest.

I kept my eyes closed, content to let her torture me in the darkness. Using my hand on her back, I dragged her closer, but not all the way. Precious inches still separated our bodies.

She would have to be the one to make the move. This push and pull between us was addictive, but it was fragile, and I didn’t want to shatter it.

I could almost feel her pulse thumping beneath her skin. Or perhaps that was mine, thundering so hard it was throbbing in my fingertips.

Something soft and delicate brushed over my collarbone. Her fingers, I realized. A smile pulled at my mouth. I allowed her to explore for a moment, her touch drifting over my shoulder, down my arm where it bent at the elbow, and back again, to the divot on top of my collarbone. A shiver worked down my spine.

“Nice outfit,” she whispered, her words caressing me in the darkness.

“You like this one, huh?” I asked, teasing. “It’s one of my best.”

“Mhm,” she hummed in response. “Looks good on you.”

“I thought you liked it, the way you were practically stroking me with your eyes.”

She snorted in mock outrage, grasping a lock of my hair and tugging on it. “I did no such thing!” She allowed her leg to slip further, her knee sliding up to rest on the side of my thigh as her calf curled around the back of my leg.

“I know what I saw, princess.”

My eyes flipped open as I slid my hand up her spine to the center of her back. Her skin was so smooth, it begged to be caressed. Every inch deserved to be stroked, kissed, worshipped.

I wondered, idly, if she would ever let me. I was surely getting ahead of myself.

Her eyes followed her fingers as they lazily drifted over my skin and traced invisible patterns. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips swollen as though she had been biting on them.

I had to swallow a groan at the sight of her flushed face. Maybe, miraculously, she was as affected by this as I was.

With a tug, I pulled her to me, closing the space between our bodies.

She gasped and gripped my shoulder as her front plastered to mine, as her knee slipped from my leg to settle back on the bed, and as my bulging erection pressed into her stomach. I ignored it, and I prayed to the Old Gods that she would too. There was no avoiding it—I ached to press my skin to hers.

Her gaze snapped to mine and held, her lips dropping open to form a silent O. Her eyebrows lifted slightly.

Our faces were mere inches apart. We breathed each other's air as our hearts thundered in battling rhythms and her heat seared my skin.

On a sweet exhale, she tilted her face and closed her eyes, her mouth softening to an inviting pout.

It was all the invitation I needed.

I softly pressed my lips to hers. I braced myself for her to pull away, but to my immense relief, she didn’t. Miraculously, she kissed me back. Her lips were impossibly soft as they stroked against mine. The smell of her was everywhere, apples and honey and perfection. I inhaled it greedily as I deepened the kiss.

My left hand remained on her back, while I slipped my right one beneath us to cradle her head. Her hair flowed over my fingers in soft curls as I hooked my thumb under her jaw, angling her face for better access. She fit in my hands perfectly, like she was made for me.

Her lips parted on an exhale that was somewhere between a sigh and a groan. The sound was everything . I wanted to hear that sound again and again.

I stroked my tongue against her lower lip. She shivered, and I relished the way I could feel it as it traveled down her body.

Her tongue met mine, tentatively at first, but then urgently. Passionately. Our tongues danced together in a delicious rhythm as we devoured each other. My cock throbbed where it was pressed to Kizzi’s stomach, begging for friction, but I ignored it. I forced the lower half of my body to remain still so I could enjoy the taste of the little witch for as long as possible.

Kizzi snaked her arm around my neck, pulling her body closer to mine, smashing her breasts against my chest. I growled in appreciation.

I rolled our bodies, pressing her into the bed as I loomed over her, careful to hold my weight up with my knees on either side of her hips and a hand above her head. My other hand was free to roam.

Her hair was a wild sprawl beneath her, her green curls tangling.

I dragged my mouth from her lips, across her jaw, to her small, pointed ear. I ran my mouth over her ear and allowed my teeth to drag over the edge. A sharp exhale escaped her lips. I smiled and laughed quietly when she dug her nails into my skin. I kissed her ear a few more times before moving my ministrations to her throat, scraping my teeth over her impossibly soft skin. I lingered when she squirmed, paying attention to the spots that evoked the strongest reaction.

Her hands left my shoulders and slipped to the collar of her nightshirt, fumbling with the buttons. When I realized what she was doing, wicked glee flooded me.

I batted her hands away. “No. Let me.”

“Okay,” she breathed, her exhales heavy and panting.

Slowly, fumbling with only one hand, I unbuttoned the soft shirt. I ran my fingers over each new inch of skin I exposed. I ached to kiss it. With a relish, I realized that I could.

So I did.

As I unbuttoned her shirt, I dragged my lips over her skin, allowing my small tusks to scratch lightly. I kissed a path over her sternum, between her breasts, over her stomach. Inch by decadent inch, I descended. She squirmed beneath me, her hands fluttering over my shoulders, my chest, my head.

When I got to the last button, I hesitated, taking a deep breath and glancing up at her face. She was watching me with hooded eyes, her lips parted. She nodded frantically.

I allowed the fabric to open, sliding off her body to reveal her torso to me.

I groaned in appreciation at the goddess sprawled on the bed below me.

Her skin sloped in perfect curves. Her stomach was beautifully soft, and I ached to sink my teeth into it. She crossed her arms over her chest to cover herself, but when I shot her a heated glare, she dropped her arms back to the bed.

“Let me look at you,” I begged.

And look I did. My eyes feasted upon her body, upon her full breasts that settled onto her chest and her gorgeous, pert nipples that tightened in the cool night air.

“Tandor,” she said quietly, lifting her hands to grasp her breasts, covering herself from my view.

“You are stunning,” I groaned, shoving her hands away and lowering my face to her throat. I kissed her neck again, letting my hand drift to her breast. I kneaded the soft flesh in my hand and she moaned, arching her back. She grasped my shoulders tightly.

“So soft,” I murmured. I kissed her neck again. Her collarbone. Her sternum. “So pretty.”

A soft, wordless sigh escaped her mouth.

I grasped her breasts with both hands, the full weight of them perfect in my palms. “So pretty,” I repeated. I kissed the curve of breast and slid my thumbs over her taut nipples. She writhed beneath me. “And so sweet,” I murmured as I lowered my mouth to one of her nipples, rolling it with my tongue as I continued to tease the other with my thumb.

“Tandor,” she said again, a plea this time. I relished the sound of my name on her mouth. Nothing sounded better than my name drenched in her pleasure.

I hummed against her skin, lightly biting at her. I repeated my ministrations on her other breast, dragging my teeth over her nipple and enjoying the way it made her squirm.

“Tandor,” she sighed.

“Yes, princess. Say my name again.”

I shifted my weight, kissing the underside of her breasts as I ran my hands down her sides. I gripped her hips as I kissed a trail down her stomach.

I tossed the blanket off the bed to get it out of the way.

I was dying to taste her. To really taste her. To lavish my tongue between her legs and make her scream. Make her shatter.

Her legs fell open, parting slightly as I settled my knees on the floor beside the bed. I kissed her stomach again, biting at the soft flesh there. She squeaked with a jolt.

I continued my path, kissing my way onto her hips, where her bones were hard beneath her skin, onto the softly rounded flesh of her lower stomach. I slipped my fingers under the waistband of her sleep pants. I tugged on the fabric.

She lifted her hips to help me.

The pants slid down an inch. Two.

An owl cooed from outside, startlingly loud in the quiet of the tent.

“Tandor,” she said again, more clearly this time.

I glanced up at her face. “I’ll take care of you,” I breathed. “I’ve got you. Let me make you feel good.”

She groaned and clenched her eyes shut tight. “Wait.”

I froze, my muscles turning to stone. “What is it, Kiz?”

“Just wait.” She scrubbed her hands over her face and ran them through her hair. With a grumbling sigh, she reached down and tugged her pants back into place.

I slowly rose to my feet. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

Kizzi met my eyes, and her face was conflicted. Tormented. “You don’t want this,” she said.

What the fuck? My eyebrows shot to my hairline, and I glanced down at my crotch, where my cock was painfully hard and nearly oozing with pre cum. “I want this.”

“Trust me, you don’t.” She buttoned her nightshirt back up with her face screwed into a pained scowl.

I stepped forward and gently grasped her hands, stilling her motions. “You have no idea how much I want this, Kizzi.” I fought the urge to spill my guts to her—to let her know just how much I wanted her. How long I had wanted her. How deeply, how soul-achingly I wanted her. I was sure that confession would scare her away.

Her expression cracked and her eyes watered. “You don’t.”

“What are you talking about? I want this. I want you . If you don’t want this, it’s okay. We can stop. We can back up. We can slow down. Whatever you need.” I was practically begging her, pleading with her not to withdraw from me. I could sense her slipping away, building up her walls.

She shook her head furiously and grabbed the blanket from the floor, pulling it over her as she flopped on her side and curled up into a ball.

“It’s not that,” she choked out with a watery voice. “It’s not that, Tandor.”

I stood at the foot of the bed, confused and vaguely hurt. “Talk to me, Kiz. What’s going on?”

“I can’t.” She sniffled quietly and her voice quivered. “I can’t explain right now.”

“Please,” I begged. “You can talk to me. Whatever it is, I’ll listen.”

My heart felt cold, and my hands felt even colder. The immediate loss of her warmth was jarring.

I slowly climbed back into the bed, staying on the far edge so I wouldn’t crowd her. She stayed where she was. The distance was small, but it might as well have been miles.

Long moments passed while our breathing settled, and she sniffled quietly in the dark.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“You don’t have to be sorry,” I insisted. “Whatever it is, I just want to know what you’re thinking.”

“I’m so sorry,” she repeated.

My mind whirled at the swift change. My thoughts churned. Had I done something wrong? Had I pushed her too far? Had she never wanted this in the first place? Lead settled into my gut. I felt sick.

We fell asleep like that, sharing a bed with a chasm between us.