A formidable foe, but the way he kissed me like he might never have another chance felt like standing on a battlefield, watching my destruction come nearer and nearer, until I released my weapons and joined the enemy.
He leaned over the edge of the basin, the sleeves of his tunic already soaked. I snickered against his mouth when he slipped, one arm falling beneath the water to steady himself.
“I’m trying to figure out why you are out there and I am in here.”
The green of his eyes had gone dark, not only from his magic. Withone hand, Jonas tugged his tunic over his head, tossing it in a heap to the side.
The Kryv motto was placed below his collar and other symbols were inked down his ribs. Too many to ask about now.
“You should never have been so beautiful.” I swiped my tongue over my lips. “It makes you rather difficult to resist.”
Jonas flashed his teeth. “Then you’ve discovered my greatest scheme—become irresistible to my wife.”
Without removing his trousers, as though he could not wait any longer to have his mouth on me again, Jonas stepped into the bath.
The prince knelt between my thighs, his bare chest warm against my breasts. Skin to skin, tightened my nipples. He groaned, and I took it on my tongue for myself.
Jonas held one hand on the back of my head, tilting my face to one side, and pressing kisses along my throat, my shoulder. He bit the ridge of my collar, licked the fragrant water off my skin. A choked breath slid between my teeth when his lips sealed around one nipple.
I whimpered, cradling his head against my chest, bucking my hips until water sloshed onto the stone floor.
Jonas took the peak between his teeth, grinning as he swiped his tongue back and forth, his hand covered the other side. I tugged at his hair, his shoulders.
No mistake, marks would mar his skin in the morning. His legs settled between my thighs, and the pressure of him pooled heat in my core. I groaned unashamed and let my knees fall open, thudding against the edges of the basin.
Jonas kissed the swell of my breast once more, then pulled back, voice low. “You need more, Fire. Will you let me touch you?”
Words turned to nonsense on my lips. In the end I simply nodded.
A deep rumble of a growl rolled from his chest.
Jonas shifted on his knees and nudged his thigh against my center, moving it enough the friction drew out a breathy whimper from my throat.
A beautiful fog clouded my thoughts when he kept one palm over my breast, pinching and rolling the peak between his fingers.
I arched my back, wanting more. I wasn’t certain I would ever get enough. Jonas lifted his eyes, dark and hungry, and I could not recall a time when anyone had looked at me with such need and desire. A look of fiction, the sort I read about in tales with fanciful romance and grand heroes.
Now, it belonged to me from a dark prince of nightmares.
Kisses speckled my chest and his other hand slipped beneath the water’s surface, gliding over my stomach, my hips, until the tips of his fingers teased the ache in my core. Gentle and slow, agonizingly so, Jonas circled his fingers over my slit.
He never looked away.
Breaths heavy, lips parted, we shared gasp after gasp as he kneaded my skin, claimed my body with his hands.
The callus of his thumb added friction and pressure to my core. I rocked my hips into his hand, unable to stop, as sensation built in the lower half of my belly. He was vicious. The touch drew out the ache, but he never soothed it, leaving me on the precipice.
Jonas tilted his head, his tongue running along the slope of my neck. “More, Fire?”
“Gods . . .” A sharp breath stole my words when he dipped one finger inside my core, then retreated. I gritted my teeth, fingers digging into his arms. “Yes. More, Jonas.”
He hummed. “That does it. You are the only one who may speak my name from now on. It is too intoxicating on your tongue to be said by anyone else.”
The prince returned one finger into my entrance, then another, filling me, stretching me. The sensation was a spark of heat that jolted up my spine.
With a sharp draw of air, I snapped up, my brow pressed against Jonas’s shoulder. He held the back of my head, and never stopped his destruction.
He pumped his fingers, curling them in the right moments, stretching them in the next. My head was lost in a fog of him—pine and leather—my body no longer was mine. I could not draw in a deep breath and let out rough gasps against his chest. Hands traveled, unableto stop moving over his chest, the edges of the basin, his shoulders, back, head.
