Romie looked away quickly—but I saw it.
The way her thighs pressed together.
The way her breath caught in her throat.
She was affected, yes. But not completely mine.
Not yet.
I rose from Morgana's body with unhurried grace and stepped toward Romie. Her breath caught again as I closed the distance.
"We'll finish later," I said to Morgana, not even glancing back.
"Yes, Master…" she whimpered, dazed and needy.
Romie's eyes widened at the word.
"Master?" she echoed softly.
I stopped in front of her, only inches away. Close enough for her to feel the heat of my body, the scent of Morgana still clinging to my skin.
I reached up and touched her cheek gently.
"Don't be jealous, Romie."
Her lips parted again.
"I'm not—" she began, but her voice faltered.
I could see it in her eyes. She didn't believe it herself.
"You wanted something, didn't you?" I murmured, brushing a thumb down her jawline.
"I… I came to bring you to the garden. My father wanted to—"
