“That sounds wonderful.” I sighed.
Malik picked me up and carried me back upstairs as I nestled my face against his neck. Despite his brutal appearance, Malik was a romantic at heart. He could turn the heat up and get wild as well but he was good at sensing what I needed when I needed it. This time was no exception.
Mal didn't set me down until we were in the master bathroom. I pinned up my hair as he turned on the taps in the tub, watching his brutal body move gracefully, muscles stretching and contracting beneath his clothes. Then Malik stripped me slowly, his hands lingering on each part of my body as it was revealed. A stroke there, a little rub further down. I arched into every touch. When I was naked, he lifted me and set me down in the tub.
My bathroom was done in an elegant, feminine style. The walls were painted a mature rose, the crown moldings were gilded, and the countertops were gold-veined marble. The bathtub sat in its own alcove at the far end of the room, with a crystal chandelier hanging above and cream silk curtains pulled back in great billows to either side. I've always enjoyed the act of bathing and I'd made my bathroom into a sanctuary. The luxury and familiarity sank into me along with the heat of the water, and I sighed in relief.
Malik took my sea sponge and soaped it up with bath gel. He hadn't bothered with bubble bath tonight, and I was glad for it. A bubble bath always leaves me feeling like I have to rinse off afterward; I can't just step out of it and dry off. Plus, I didn't want all that froth getting in the way of my view. There was something incredibly sexy about Mal's powerful warrior hand running that sponge over my body. He drew it across my shoulders, water cascading down my back and breasts, then down my spine. The sponge moved in firm circles over me, then Malik eased me back against the tub and slid into the space between the bathtub and the wall, just behind me. His hands went down my torso together—one soaping me with the sponge while the other rubbed the trail of soap into my skin. The mark on the back of my neck zinged with desire.
Malik circled my breast with the sponge as he nuzzled my cheek with his. “I love watching your nipples harden,” he murmured.
I just smiled, my eyes drifting shut as Malik's free hand settled on my other breast. His thick fingers massaged me as the pad of his thumb rubbed across my nipple. That talented hand continued its ministrations while the one with the sponge moved on, scrubbing my stomach in languorous circles and then sliding over my thigh. He only skimmed my inner thighs before delving between them. As he did, his mark flared with anxious need. I chuckled; Malik's patience had its limits and I liked that. It made me feel incredibly sexy that I could entice him enough to make him lose control.
But Mal didn't lose control. He just smiled against the mark, then brushed his lips over it as the sponge gently rubbed me clean. His hot tongue darted out to flick the ridged edge of the crown—the symbol of our bond and his claim to the throne of Hell. That brief wet touch sent a sharp flare of ecstasy through my entire body and I cried out.
The sponge bobbed to the surface.
“You seem to have lost something,” I noted breathlessly.
“Nothing important,” his voice dropped to a deep rumble.
Malik moved away from his mark, sensing that I couldn't take much more of that kind of stimulation. He slid his lips forward along my nape and nipped my ear as his palm drifted down my womanhood and up again. As it rose, his fingers split me and on its next descent, one of his fingers slipped into me. I made a soft sound of pleasure and it was all the encouragement he needed. Mal's finger began to pump with the sliding, curving movement of his hand and the heel of his palm rubbed firmly against my clitoris.
My bent knees fell open and my head draped back onto his broad shoulder. Malik leaned forward a little, both to support me and get a better angle at my sex. The water began to slosh as he increased speed, and desire pooled low in my pelvis—collecting there. Building. I turned my head, seeking his mouth, and he gave me what I wanted.
His hot tongue invaded, spearing me as his finger did, mimicking an act I suddenly craved desperately. I started to sit up, intending to climb out of the tub and onto him, but Malik grabbed my breast tighter and held me in place.
“Your bath has just begun, Mvarra,” he whispered in my ear.
“I think I want something else now. Something less clean.”
Malik chuckled. “That will have to wait until after dinner. For now, just enjoy this.”
His finger slipped out and he focused on rubbing my most sensitive spot. The pad of his finger circled that swollen nub and then pressed down firmly. He sped up, water splashing across my chest where he still gripped my breast tightly, and my body began to shake as ecstasy built and built and built. I grabbed the rim of the tub, threw back my head, and moaned my release—a deep, growling sound that felt pulled from me. As the aftershocks jolted through my body, Malik kissed my cheek, then slipped around to the front of the tub. He lifted my trembling leg, retrieved the sponge, and started washing it thoroughly. By the time he got to my toes, I had melted into water and had little hope of ever becoming solid again. And that was just fine with me.
Chapter Twenty-One
“This is really good,” I said after having a few bites of my dinner.
“You don't have to sound so surprised.” Kyrian laughed.
“Where's the cheese?” Malik asked as he pushed his fork through the food. “Where did you hide it?”
“Don't start that again,” Kyrian warned him.
“No, I'm serious.” Mal looked up. “Where is it?”
“It's those golden-brown cubes in the spinach.” I pointed at the paneer.
“This is that gross glop?” Malik asked in shock.
“It's cheese,” Kyrian whined.
“Yeah, sort of.” Malik took a bite and pondered it. “Weird but good.”
“Thank you?” Kyrian made a WTF face at Malik.
“It's very good,” I insisted.
