Still slowly, I push her leg away from my hips, urging her to unfurl from around my hips.
I can’t stop my satisfied smile when she fights me, pressing harder, clinging tighter.
“I want your feet on the ground.” I give her my full attention, claiming her gaze as my hand continues to work along the length of her upper leg, even as she insists on keeping it where it is, stroking toward the spot where she presses most closely to my hip, slipping my hand between us to clench around her inner thigh.
She gasps, nearly inhaling the water trickling down her face. The spray is hitting her back now, and she hasn’t mentioned the cold once. She might not realize it, but my body heat is keeping her warm. Just as I promised her.
She finally eases her leg away from my body, giving me better access, and my smile grows.
I peel both of her legs away from me, one by one, taking my time stroking her inner thighs while she holds on to my shoulders, keeping herself from falling now.
Her legs finally slide to the floor, and her downward momentum grazes her chest against mine, her body close enough that her hard nipples grind against me.When she comes to a standstill, still pressed up against me, she can’t be under any illusions about the hardness of my cock.
I don’t let her feel it for long, moving as if I’m taking a knee before I grasp the bottom of her tunic and stand again, even more slowly, bringing the tunic with me, peeling it up and up inch by inch.
She seems to remember herself, stiffening before I can raise the material high enough to expose her breasts.
It’s the hesitation I was alert for.
I let the material drop back into place, making no comment about her reaction, feigning indifference as I leave her where she stands, now outside of the spray, and I step fully into the falling water.
Immersing myself in the cold stream, I focus on scrubbing at my hair and skin, washing away the final traces of blood before I purposefully turn away from her and drop my pants, waiting for the water to run completely clear.
The light is dim, but that doesn’t bother me. If only it were colder in here. Maybe I could set aside my heady thoughts and reduce the intensity of my arousal.
Just as I plant my palms against the wall, bracing against the cold porcelain for the moment it takes me to steel myself to turn off the water, the slap of wet material against the floor draws my attention back to Thyra.
Keeping myself facing away from her, I make sure to only turn my head, my focus flying from the discarded tunic on the floor up to her face.
She holds one arm across her breasts, covering them, but the tilt of her head is defiant. “There was still blood on it.”
I assume she means her tunic, but I’m not sure what to make of her defiance. Her voice continues to rasp. It looks as if her neck won’t heal quickly. Highborn typically heal fasterthan lowborn, but we’re all susceptible to illness, injury, and death.
My forehead pinches as I try to decipher what she wants, and then I decide it’s simplest to ask her. “Do you want me to keep my distance or come to you?”
She takes a step toward me. Just one. Her face flushing. Her bloomers cling to the apex between her legs, and the material is so waterlogged it’s barely more than a transparent veil.
“If…” She stops. Starts again. “If I can quench this need, then I can prove the blade vision was wrong.”
So it’s about the blade.
I haven’t thought about the damn thing since I left her chained to my bed. I’ve barely noticed its shape on her arm. Since I rushed back to the cabin, since I heard her terrified scream, all I cared about was her.
But I’ve already dismissed the idea of breaking the curse by fucking her. “That’s a bad reason.”
As I speak, I turn around, giving her a full view of my body.
She takes a sharp breath.
I’m not certain if it’s because of my arousal or the ropey scar running across my lower stomach.
I prowl toward her, studying her for any hint of retreat, any backward flinch, but she stays where she is, letting me approach.
Before I reach for her, she asks, “What happened?”
I draw to a stop. “Nothing exciting. I took on a stag that was stronger than me. In my defense, I was only eleven at the time.”
She tilts her head slightly. “A stag?”
