My words are silenced by his hand closing over mine. He sits on the lip of the tub, diminishing its size by his mere presence. When I was younger, I thought it silly to have a tub the size of the ocean for little me, but now I’m glad I have somewhere he can soak. He wets the fingers of his opposite hand and writes in the dust on his pectoral muscle.
“Not leaving cell to leave you,” it says in faint letters. He erases all but leaving cell and changes the phrase to say, “leaving cell to find you.”
I gasp like a maiden from my storybooks. “Now wereallycan’t allow the guards to see you,” I whisper, running a towel under the stream of water. “Stay here, I’m going to clean the hallway of hoofprints.”
A swipe of the towel on my door, and blessedly, the dust seems to wipe away. Thank Seelie, whatever filth coats him doesn’t stain. Outside, the hallway is deserted, but I still crawl out on my hands and knees. I haphazardly smear the towelaround on the floor—not to make a gleaming clean spot to attract attention, but to mar any prints. When the guards next pass, hopefully, they will create a new set of prints in the mud.
“There—” I stop short on the threshold of the opulent bathroom when the air is stolen from my lungs. He sits in the rose quartz tub with his back to me, dumping water over his head from my matching crystal goblet. I’m spellbound as water flows over his wide shoulders and down his toned back to disappear into murky depths. His skin is a deeper bronze without the dust, covered with brown fuzz, and pulled tightly over muscles. I shouldn’t stare, but I can’t force my feet to move. “I?—”
He slowly turns his head to blast me with his stare. When I don’t move apart from my pounding heart, he pats the lip of the tub for me to join him. I’ve never been shy with him, so I won’t start now…not when my body has come alive with a magical tingling and awareness. This new sensation must never end, for it is the most exciting feeling I’ve ever possessed. I don’t know what it is, other than a pull to his side. If I have my way, we will never be kept apart again, especially by a set of iron bars.
“Can I wash your hair?” I ask because I ache to touch him. What I really want is to skim my palms over the bronze muscles he’s cleaned, but I’m not that impertinent. This is more than seeing my first male naked, my first hubull naked, him…clean and naked for the first time. Who am I kidding? I would dive in if he invited me into the muddy water swirling around him, but I’ll settle for washing his hair. When Rosemary washes mine, I feel like I’m a goddess…and I want to give that feeling to Franklin.
I’m pouring the lavender soap into my hand before he can lower his chin into a nod. When my hands sink into the mass of coarse strands, a rumble vibrates up my arms. His eyes drift closed as I massage his scalp and pull my fingers through the snarls. His hair is thick, but it behaves as I work through theknots and tangles. It’s clean and time to rinse, but I continue to rub his head. His shoulders drop as the tension leaves his body, and I guide him to recline in the tub. The change in position pulls me forward, so I lean over him. My balance is slightly off-kilter, so I grab the base of his horns to steady myself.
His wet hands surge from under the water to grab my waist.
Have I been running around in this flimsy nightdress this whole time? Water drips down the pink skirt, turning it sheer against my legs. I crawled into the hallway, where anyone could have seen my butt through it. More water drips from his arms to splatter against the pale material…giving hints of the treasures I hide between my thighs, beneath a tuft of brown curls. My face heats to inferno levels as I raise my chin to meet his gaze, but he’s staring at my color-changing gown too.
“Thank you for catching me,” I whisper. Better to be seen as brazen and brave than shy and meek, right? I don’t want him to think he’s overstepped my boundaries when he rescued me from falling into his bath. “I’m not embarrassed at you seeing through my nightdress, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
He cocks his head at an angle and raises his left eyebrow.
“I mean it,” I whisper more forcefully. I lift my chin and adjust my stance, so he takes a little more of my weight. The shift glides my hands around the base of his horns. He moans in response. “You like that. You like it a lot,” I say, rubbing some more.
His hips wiggle under the water. The tip of his erect cock flashes at me. It’s so brief, I do a double-take. I aroused him. That erection is mine—not some experienced harlot or cherished wife’s. Little, immature, barely considered a woman, Lilyfair is desirable—at least to this male. I aroused him…and myself. He lifts my chin with two fingers, so my proud smile meets his concerned frown.
“I’m not afraid,” I whisper. “Your body is telling me the words you can’t say. I overstepped by rubbing your horns—by accident—at first—and your body reacted to my touch. It’s okay. I understand.”
He shakes his head.
“Franklin, I saw…” My words trail off as my tongue grows too large for my mouth. I lean closer to whisper in his large, velvety ear, unable to look him in the face during my confession. “I saw your manhood…and…I liked it…but it’s not fair for me to ogle you.”
He splashes me with his left hand, so I’m soaked from my neck to my knees. My nightdress sticks to my body, leaving no shred of my modesty intact. Chest heaving, nipples poking through the fabric, I’m on display for him…and I love the way he devours my curves with his eyes.
“Fair,” he wheezes. My jaw drops and tears well in my eyes, turning my vision glassy.
“You spoke. You spoke to me. What a gift,” I whisper before I fling my arms around his neck. My elbows bend, and my head tilts to kiss his cheek.
However, he’s faster than I am, and turns his head so our lips connect instead. I don’t know what to do, so I freeze. His snout rubs against my cheek as he sweeps his lips across mine. It’s like a reassuring caress that he’s there. I can let go, and he’ll catch me. Mimicking his movements, I try to kiss him back. His sweeps turn into nips.
Did I forget to breathe? I’m dizzy with desire. My body tingles from head to toe. I shake as if with cold, but I don’t feel cold. His hands slide from my waist to my hips, then he braces me against his chest with one arm. I allow my knees to buckle, so I’m draped over the side of the tub. With one movement, he could pull me in…but instead, he drains the water?
“What? You don’t have to stop. I can leave or…or…we can keep kissing until you’re finished. I mean, we can keepwashinguntil you’re finished,” I stammer. While I’m tempted to blame my stammering on the buzzing in my lips, it's really because my first kiss blew my mind. Franklin gave me everything I’ve read about in storybooks and more.
“Too muddy,” he wheezes. “Clean for you.”
With the water receding, I can see every part of his naked body. His lower abs are as toned as his back, chest, and arms. I thought maybe I’d fattened his belly with desserts, but I guess he didn’t leave the fields that long ago. His thighs are thick with lumps of muscle. Covered with hair a shade lighter than his skin, he’s massive…and proportionate…everywhere…
His laughter breaks my concentration on his manhood. How dare he? Doesn’t he know I’ve never seen a male naked before, and I’m dying with curiosity? I blush from head to toe and remove my arms to stand straight. Only to be barred from moving by his arm. He’s not looking at me…he’s looking at the ring of dirt he’s left on the inside of the pink tub. I laugh too when he smears his finger over the mud.
“Don’t worry,” I whisper. “I’ve left a ring behind before. Those cabinets can be very dusty.”
His raspy laughter dies when he reengages the water pump, and cold water comes out of the tap.
“Yeah, it’s colder on the second fill because the water hasn’t had the time to sit in the tanks. It’s frigid in the water table beneath the castle, so we store water in tanks to equilibrate with the temperature of the living space. If you want hot water, it must be brought to a boil in the kitchens and brought up before it has a chance to cool down. Father insists on servants lugging water up here when I’m sick, but I refuse it when I’m well.”
I shiver on his behalf as the tub quickly fills with what must be freezing water. If only I had tossed another log on the fire, atleast my bedroom would be warmer—not that I plan on hosting him in my bedroom. Only if he wants to talk in my bed after he’s clean will I accommodate him. I’m not assuming anything.Omf!
