“That’s right, say my name. It’s me. Now be a good girl and come for me, wife.”
He backed up his words with actions, and his clever fingers detonated the orgasm he had been carefully building. Her head rolled from side to side on his shoulder while spots of light danced in front of her eyes. Sound muffled, and she was only aware of the beat of his heart, pounding under her ear as she descended back to earth.
Nathaniel shifted slightly behind her, his arms still locked around her frame. Her skin felt flushed. From the heat of the bath or her lingering desire? She’d gone pliant, exquisite languor tugging at her head until she rested it back against his shoulder. Her breath came in slow, languid waves. For long minutes, neither of them spoke. The only sounds were the gentle ripple of water and their shared breathing.
“That was…divine,” she said at last, turning within his arms to look at him with a doting smile plastered on her face. She couldn’t even care while she floated in this bliss he had created.
She lay sideways against him and leaned up to kiss the corner of his lips. He had taken her in a low moment and had vanquished her sadness, loneliness, and despair.
“Thank you,” she murmured, looking into his eyes. Eyes of a blue so dark they appeared almost black. But she knew their true color, for she had gazed upon them so many times. She knew the pattern of his beard, the little scar on the underside of his jaw. She knew the exact shape and texture of his beautiful lips.
“No thanks needed, love. You know I enjoyed that as much as you did.”
She chuckled. “No one could have enjoyed that as much as I did,” she contradicted him, and he raised an eyebrow in defiance. It was a thing between them that he always insisted he enjoyed pleasuring her as much, if not more than her receiving it. And she always protested that it was impossible.
But seeing the satisfied spark in his eyes, she started to believe that maybe it was true. His rod was still as hard as iron, pulsing with desire against her hip. And yet deep satisfaction glowed on his face. He appeared in no rush to appease his desire. It was as if he were sharing in her post-orgasmic contentment.
“You really mean that, don’t you?” Her tone reflected the wonder she felt.
“Of course I do. I always did. I don’t know why you never believed me.”
“It’s just that…well, I don’t know how your pleasure could be equal to mine without actually culminating.”
He slid lower in the tub, rested his head back on the lip of the bath and looked up to the ceiling with a faraway look and a small, satisfied smile playing at the corner of his mouth.
“I can’t explain it logically, but seeing you go wild, watching your face contort in ecstasy and then go slack with satisfaction, and knowing that I caused that… It makes me feel invincible. Powerful. It gives me a sense of accomplishment that nothing can surpass. I picture your face as you climax when I frig myself.”
“Nathaniel!” Her eyes widened, and her gasp of laughter was half scandalized at the indecorous revelation and half flattered that she featured in his fantasies at all.
“What?” he replied, looking at her completely unashamed. “Are you scandalized to hear that I frig myself? Of course I do. How else was I going to get by? Don’t you touch yourself as well, Alice?”
“I…” Yes, she did. Often. Some days she missed him so much. She felt so lonely, so starved for touch that it only took a few strokes of her fingers to bring her to orgasm. But while delivering pleasure, those solo sessions never provided real comfort. The relief was always fleeting, never lasting longer than it took for her climax to fade. But she couldn’t confess to it. Ridiculous, of course, to feel shy about that after all the shameless acts they had performed together.
His half-smile was wicked. As if he already knew the answer but wanted to hear her say it.
“Go on, Alice. I dare you to tell me. Do you rub your little pearl often? Do you think of me when you do?”
“Y-yes. To both questions,” she said, hiding her face against his chest as his laughter rumbled under her cheek.
“I knew you were a wicked girl. And I wouldn’t have you any other way. Come,” he murmured, his voice husky. “You’ll catch a cold if we stay here much longer.”
CHAPTER 12
Nathanielhadcomeherethis morning driven by instinct and need. He certainly hadn’t come with the expectation of sex. But then, this wasn’t sex, was it? It was so much more than that. After the tragic events of the night, they both needed comfort and companionship. And they certainly had found that, but also…this felt like a reunion of sorts.
Moved by an emotion he couldn’t suppress, he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the curve of her damp shoulder, letting his lips linger on her skin.
She hummed faintly and didn’t resist as he helped her shift, his hands bracing her by the waist as they rose together. Water cascaded from their bodies in delicate rivulets, splattering onto the tiled floor. He reached for a towel and wrapped it around her, drawing her close to soak up the moisture clinging to her skin.
The towel smelled faintly of rosewater and starch—clean and comforting—and he found himself burying his nose in the crookof her neck for just a moment. She made a small sound—half sigh, half contented hum—as he rubbed slow circles across her back, drying her gently.
“You’ve always been meticulous about this,” she whispered, a faint smile in her voice.
“I’ve always liked looking after you,” he replied without thinking, his tone low.
When she raised her eyes to his, he caught the flicker of something unguarded there—surprise, perhaps, or sorrow—but it was gone so swiftly he almost doubted he’d seen it. He tucked the towel more snugly around her, then draped another around his own hips before sweeping her up into his arms.
She stiffened slightly at first, her hands pressing to his chest. “Nathaniel—”
