The taunting in her tone set his nerves at ease, encouraged his lips to curl up at the corners. Slowly, he shifted back to face her.
She was standing again, but this time her chin was lifted, her shoulders thrown back. Again, he couldn’t keep his eyes from wandering down her figure. Now that he had her permission, he let himself savor every inch of her slick skin, her ample curves, the pale hair that framed her shoulders. He lifted his gaze to her eyes, saw hunger in them, as well as a dash of timidity that matched his own. She grinned, biting a corner of her bottom lip.
“Come here.” Her words were whispered, but there was command in her tone. “Get in the tub with me.”
His stomach tightened, his mind going blissfully empty.
He dropped the gift and shrugged off his jacket and sword belt in quick succession, letting them fall to the floor before he strode straight for his wife. With every step, he loosened a button, discarded one piece of clothing, then the next, until he stood bare before the tub, his lips pressed against hers. She pulled him tight to her, angling her head to deepen the kiss. Her tongue swept against his, and he released a throaty moan.
He no longer felt an ounce of apprehension between them. His fear melted away, as did his self-consciousness. In this moment, he was the confident king he’d been in his letters. Every promise he’d made, every embarrassing poem he’d drafted during their time apart now filled his lips, his tongue, his fingertips, reaffirming his affection for her.
Stepping blindly into the tub, he erased every inch of space that separated them. One hand circled her bottom while the other explored the generous curve of her breast. She arched against him as if she yearned to be even closer than their flush bodies would allow. He breathed in every kiss she gave him like it was air, touched every part of her like he was committing the feel of her to memory. Desire seared his core, coalescing in a hungry roar that pulsed between them, infused their shared kisses and groping hands. He sank into the basin, his fingers tangled in her sodden hair. She followed him into the water, straddling his hips as she lowered herself on top of him.
She pulled her face back slightly, eyes locked on his. “Gods, I missed you, Lare.”
He opened his mouth, but she didn’t give him a chance to say anything back. Instead, she kissed him again. With a rock of her hips, she lowered herself further onto him, sparking new sensations of pleasure. Larylis forgot his fears, forgot everything but her as they lost themselves in each other’s bodies, in their love, and made up for lost time.
52
Mareleau had never heard a sound more beautiful than Larylis’ heartbeat. It thudded against her ear, echoing the pound of her own. They reclined on the pallet that was nestled at the far end of Mareleau’s tent, their bodies tangled in blankets and furs. Based on the lack of light streaming through the canvas walls, and the darkening shadows that grew around the single lantern lit inside, it must be night now. Mareleau had lost all sense of time during her impassioned reunion with her husband. The memory of their time in the tub—then on the floor, then again on the pallet where they now lay—flooded her with warmth, and a tingling heat built between her thighs. It seemed her desire for him would never be satiated. Her body, on the other hand, was spent.
She shifted her face to prop her chin on his chest and assessed her husband’s countenance. Gods, he was beautiful. His eyes were closed, but she’d drunk in their emerald hue when she’d been astride him earlier, studying his every expression, his every sound, as he’d wrung pleasure from her, and she from him. Their love was both long-standing and new. She was determined to know every angle of him, all the quirks and facets she’d never learned, and any she may have forgotten in their three years apart.
His dark lashes fluttered, and he glanced down at her with a sleepy grin. She lifted a hand and lightly brushed the curve of his bottom lip, then trailed it across the hard edge of his lightly stubbled jaw. His throat bobbed as she brushed the column of his neck, then his collarbone. Her fingers drifted behind his head to where his hair curled slightly, damp with sweat and bathwater. She liked seeing him like this. Undone. Rugged. She liked the way his body tensed as she shifted against him. Lifting herself slightly, she planted a kiss on his lips. His mouth met hers in a tender softness that had been absent between them earlier. With their desires quenched, there was a slowness to their kiss now. A promise.
His hands came to her hips, rounding her curves in a way that had her stomach tightening, her center tingling. Perhaps their desires weren’t so quenched after all.
She was about to deepen the kiss, but Larylis pulled away. “I wish we could do this all day.”
“Look around, Lare,” she said with a chuckle. “We already did.”
A furrow formed between his brows. He pulled himself to sitting and glanced around the tent. When his eyes fell on the solitary light glowing from the lantern, a sideways grin took over his lips. He returned his gaze to her. “I suppose you’re right. But still…”
She sat upright before him and pushed out her bottom lip in a mock pout. It had the effect she’d been after. His eyes dipped to her mouth. Then to her bare torso.
A groan built in the back of his throat. “You make it very hard?—”
“I know.” She let her eyes dip to his waist.
“—to talk about anything serious,” he said, his words dissolving in a laugh.
“Must we? There are so many better things we could do tonight.”
His mirth slowly began to drain from his face. “There…there are some things we should talk about.”
She didn’t like where that was going. His words almost made her feel like she was in trouble. More than that, they reminded her that she had something very serious to tell him too. Something she hadn’t dared confess by way of letter. Her hand went impulsively to her belly, soft and curving in the way it always was, yet too small to reveal the secret growing within. She snatched her hand away and batted her lashes. “Like the gift you brought me?”
Maybe she was a coward for changing the subject, but she wasn’t ready to lose the sweetness of their reunion.
“The gift?”
“I saw you carrying a package when you entered. Was it for me?”
His smile returned, but it wasn’t as bright as before. “It was, but it wasn’t from me. It’s from your father.”
“My father?” Verdian was an even drearier topic than the one she was trying to avoid. But…had he really gotten her a gift? If so, why did Larylis have it?
Larylis threw back the blankets and left the pallet, making his way across the tent to gather his discarded clothing one piece at a time. Mareleau took the opportunity to admire his lean build, his bare broad shoulders, and the perfect view of his backside. Her shoulders slumped as he hid the latter beneath his trousers, then the former beneath his shirt.
