Grace's eyes fluttered open, and she tilted her head to glance back at him. Rune's smirk was there, but his eyes held something deeper, something unspoken that made her heart skip.
"Rune…" she started, but the way he was looking at her made her voice falter.
He didn't stop his ministrations. His hands moved down her back with slow, deliberate strokes. Each press of his fingers felt more intimate, more purposeful, and the air between them grew thicker with tension.
"You are tense everywhere," he murmured, and she noticed how his tone dropped lower. "You really don't take care of yourself, do you?"
Grace swallowed hard, and felt her pulse quickening. "I'm fine," she managed to say, but her voice betrayed her.
Rune's hands paused for a moment with his thumbs pressing gently into the small of her back. "Are you?" he asked. His voice was quieter now, almost a whisper.
