Then his other hand joined the first, both framing her face now, tilting her head back. Water lapped at the copper rim as she shifted unconsciously toward him.
“Is this what you wanted?”
She nodded. Only once.
He made a sound low in his throat—something between a groan and a curse. Then his mouth was on hers.
The kiss was nothing like she had imagined in her inexperienced daydreams. There was no hesitation in it, no gentleness. His lips moved over hers with fierce precision, coaxing her mouth open, and when she gasped, he swept inside. The taste of him flooded her senses—wine from the evening and something darker, more intoxicating than spirits.
One hand slid into her wet hair, fisting there, holding her exactly where he wanted her. She grabbed the edge of the tub to keep from drowning, though she could not tell if it was the water or him that threatened to pull her under.
When he broke the kiss, she barely had time to draw breath before his mouth was on her jaw. He kissed down the columnof her throat with open-mouthed kisses that made her gasp his name.
“Again,” he commanded against her skin.
“Nicholas—”
He bit down gently on the curve where her neck met her shoulder, soothing it immediately with his tongue. Amelia’s head fell back, a moan escaping her that would have mortified her if she had been capable of coherent thought.
His hand slid down her arm beneath the water, a slow drag that trailed fire in its wake. Then his bicep wrapped around her waist, skin to skin beneath the surface, and she cried out at the contact.
He pulled her up.
Water streamed down her body as she broke the surface, rivulets trickling over her breasts, her stomach. The cool air tightened her nipples into hard peaks, and she watched his eyes drop, watched his jaw clench.
“God,” he breathed. “You aredivine.”
His mouth found her breast.
The first touch of his tongue ripped a sound from her throat she had never made before. He circled her nipple. Slow. Maddening. Then sucked. Heat shot between her legs so sharply she gasped.
Her hands found his shoulders, and her nails dug into bare muscle. His arm tightened around her waist, holding her steady as she trembled. His free hand came up to cup her other breast, thumb circling the peak in rhythm with his mouth.
“Nicholas, I need—” She did not know how to finish. Need what? More? Him?Everything?
He switched to her other breast and lavished it with the same devastating attention. Teeth grazing, tongue soothing. His hand on her back splayed wide, fingers pressing into her skin like he was trying to memorize the shape of her.
Water sloshed over the rim of the tub as he pulled her higher. She was half-sitting on the edge now, almost entirely exposed to him, and some distant part of her knew she should feel ashamed.
She did not.
The way he looked at her—like she was something precious and profane all at once—made her feel powerful. The tremor in his hands, the ragged sound of his breathing, the way his body shook with restraint.Shehad done this to him.
His mouth released her nipple. He looked up at her, and his eyes were almost black in the low light. His hand left her breast, sliding down her stomach with agonizing slowness.
Down, down still.
Her breath hitched. Her body tensed in anticipation.
He would touch her where she ached, where she was already wet from more than just bathwater—
He jolted back.
His hands left the water so fast, droplets sprayed across the floor. He stood, staggering away from her like she’d scalded him.
“No.”
Amelia blinked up at him, dizzy and confused. “What—”
