I need it off. I need it to wash away, too.
Without thinking, I plant my hands on his shoulders, my fingers curling at the edge of the harness he continues to wear, before I arch back into the spray, allowing the water to pour between us, hitting his chest and mine. My pelvis presseshard into his lower stomach while my bare legs wrap firmly around his hips.
I sense his stomach muscles tighten, feeling the tension in his arms while his hands support my back as I lean away from him.
His green eyes glitter at me through the spray. His lips rise, parting to reveal his teeth.
“You will remember only the water running clear,” he commands me, harsher now. “You will remember my hands, and you will remember what you feel right now. Nothing else matters.”
With that, he lowers his mouth to my chest, to the wet material clinging to the top of my breasts. His lips graze my tunic’s neckline, closing around it, his teeth tugging on it before his mouth whispers down between my breasts, his teeth continuing to pull at the material, nudging it across my skin, making it drag against my nipples before he lets it go.
Heat shoots from my chest to my core, a needy ache building between my legs, my head filling with the impulse to grind my core against him, to ease this ache. Just a little.
To replace the horror with heat.
His mouth works back to my neck, and he slowly draws me back up to his chest, allowing him to narrow the gap between our lips.
I’m forced to close my eyes as the water sprays across my face, and then, I’m in danger of being lost, because his mouth reaches mine.
It’s the lightest touch. The barest whispering connection. But the intense heat flooding my body is intoxicating, overwhelming, needy. Desire mingles with the rush of water, and I don’t feel the cold anymore.
My hands tighten around his shoulders, my fingers curlingagainst his muscles. My toes curl, too.
His hands sweep beneath the back of my tunic, tightening the material across my breasts while his palms knead my aching back and his lips brush across mine again, flooding me with pleasure.
His voice burns through me with a promise that makes my thighs clench. “You will remember only this.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
Antony
Her lips taste like roses.
Her skin smells like an endless field of flowers, a place without boundaries.
And her sighs…they sound like warmth and certainty. A life without lies or treachery or spilled blood.
Impossible things, all of them.
I don’t deserve them, but I drink them up anyway.
As I press my mouth to hers, I fight my impulses to go so much further.
There’s barely a shred of material between us. I could easily rip off her bloomers, dispense with my pants, push her up against the wall, and take her, and damn, I want to.
I spent the last few hours hunting in the forest outside this cabin, and as a consequence, right now, all of my worst instincts are blunted.
This might be the only time I could fuck her without killing her…
But she’s still trembling, and I can’t be sure if it’s with needor with shock, and even if I ask her permission, I can’t be certain if she’ll interpret my question as a command.
I don’t want uncertainty. I want her to scream at me to fuck her. Loud and clear.
I’d rather leave her panting for release than doubt she wants it.
Even if it means I might not get this chance again.
Slowly, I reach behind me and wrap one hand around her outer thigh, kneading her tense muscles, easing the strain she must have placed on her leg. Both legs, but I can’t reach the other one while I’m supporting her back.
