“No, it’s notnice. It’s perfect.” I settled down in the water, letting my head roll back against the polished edge of the stone tub, my lips quirking up in a lazy way. “You’re the one who’s still wearing too much clothing, Wildfire.”
Amusement softened her features.
Locking her eyes on mine, she tugged her tunic up over her head, revealing pale and creamy skin beneath the streaks ofborgon filth. Bruises marred her flesh, already forming from the battle. Nicks and deeper lacerations. I'd kiss them all away with my healing magic. Two thumps of her boots on the floor were followed by the whisper of her pants, leaving her clad in nothing but underwear, socks, and a heady glint of anticipation in her eyes.
Her fingers trailed over her legs as she shucked first one sock, then the other. Each movement aroused me in a way I’d never experienced in my life. I clenched the edges of the tub as she turned, revealing the graceful arch of her back, the curve of her waist as she slid the remaining layers down across her hips. Her hands lingered there, and she glanced over her shoulder, so demure, so coy. And sly. I couldn’t hold back my growl.
This woman. My woman. My queen.
When she turned and stood before me, everything else ceased to exist. Gone was the splendor of the chamber. Our playful teasing.
Even that hint of vulnerability in her eyes.
The steam shrank, blown aside by the warmth radiating between us. Her wild, sunset hair tumbled freely across her shoulders, enveloping her spine and haloing her skin marred with battle-earned wounds. Her eyes, always challenging, always captivating, locked on mine as if she was daring me to do anything but worship her now.
As I had all along.
The rise and fall of her chest was punctuated by the delicate catch of her breath.
I drank her in.
“You are,” I rasped, my words catching in my throat, “devastating.”
Her brows hitched upward. “Devastating?” she echoed, the tease coming through thick in her voice.
I dragged my gaze over her every curve, committing how she looked now to memory.
“Your hair is wildfire spun from the last light of the sun,” I said. “Your body…” I swallowed hard, my voice dipping to match the joy that filled me. “Even the stars must envy you.”
Her breath caught again, and her face cracked, her lips parting. A delicious ache stabbed through my chest because I could tell my words pleased her.
“And your ass,” I added with a smirk. “I've changed my mind about how it looks in leathers.”
“Oh, you have, have you?” The delight in her voice… I was going to come on the spot.
“It's far prettier when it’s uncovered.”
Her laugh burst free, uninhibited and rich. She ducked her head, letting her hair veil her face, but not before her cheeks darkened with a fiery blush. The sound of her happiness filled the chamber, filled me.
Sliding her gaze back to mine, she angled her hips with an exaggerated flair as she moved toward me. “You’d better be worth all this praise you keep tossing my way, Lore,” she quipped, her voice so playful it made my heart ache.
She took the stairs to the top and paused there, an exquisite statue prettier than the moon, the stars, and the turbulent sea. With a smile, she dipped one foot, then the other, into the water. It lapped at her skin as she stepped down, the ripples surging out to stroke my chest. Her beauty, her wit, her fire. Combined, they made her a force no curse, no throne, no other soul could rival.
She settled in the water opposite me. “This feels amazing.” Tipping her head back, she closed her eyes, and her groan ripped out. “Every muscle in my body hurts.”
“Let me soothe your aches.” I made my way across the tub and knelt in front of her.
Water lapped around us, and the heat flushed my skin as much as the sight of her did. Her neck arched, and I caught the flicker of her pulse against the elegant curve of her throat. A thousand battles had sung in those veins, but now, I would only write tenderness in her flesh.
I settled my palms on her shoulders. Power stirred beneath my skin, eager, restless, waiting to be called.
Her breath eased out as I began to knead the taut muscles. The cords of tension there melted as I pressed paths along the slope of her shoulders with my fingertips. She tilted her head forward, resting it on my shoulder.
“This feels wonderful,” she sighed. “Never stop.”
“Never,” I murmured against her temple.
I worked my fingers around to her nape. I tutted when I saw bruises peppering her back.
