Kjeld was well aware that Caelian admired him, that she fancied him. Though he doubted she still loved him given his treatment of her, there was something enticing about hearing her finally speak the words, hearing her admit it to him instead of just in the company of secret wishes. It was flattering. Encouraging. He inched the washcloth lower, started slowly washing her breasts. He squeezed the cloth, watched as the droplets of bath water dribbled over her pebbled nipples, as they slid between the valley of her breasts. With leisurely movements, he palmed each one, the fabric of cloth the only thing separating the roughness of his palm from the silk of her flesh.
Her pulse jumped, the erratic beat causing his blood to stir and pump.
She inhaled sharply, the rise and fall of her chest increasing with each breath. With each swipe of the washcloth.
Her gaze was focused on his hand, tracking him. He didn’t miss the way she shifted beneath the water, the way she dragged her knees back up, the way she rolled her plump lips.
This time he washed her stomach, feathering over the fresh scars so as not to hurt her, and dipped his hand back underwater, just above the apex of her thighs. Her teeth scraped and tugged at her bottom lip, working until it was puffy and swollen. And delectably kissable. Kjeld smirked, his hand hovering over the most sensitive part of her, patiently waiting for her permission. He may be demanding in nature, but never when it came to consent. On a shaky exhale, her legs fell open for him.
Perfect.
He slid his hand between her thighs, moving the cloth in slow circles to start. Gently dragging it against her flesh. Teasing her. Without caring, he let go of the washcloth. Oh, Kjeld knew hemight hate himself for it later—hell, Caelian might hate him for it as well—but it was a risk he was willing to take. His finger grazed her slit and her head fell back. The sound she made sent every ounce of blood in his body pumping straight to his cock. He worked around her clit, applying a little pressure, and she whimpered. Watching her squirm and gasp was pure torture but he fucking loved it. It was only a matter of time until he blew his load in his pants, but damn, he wished he could see her. Wished he could see how wet she was for him.
Caelian gripped the slick edge of the tub with both hands, nearly jolting upright.
Kjeld chuckled, her reaction was perfection. “Are you nervous, Starweaver?”
“Y-yes,” she stammered.
He expected her eyes to be glazed with lust, but they were wild with something else he couldn’t quite place.
“And why is that, my lady?” He leaned closer, breathing her into his system. Filling his lungs with her.
“Because no one has ever touched me there.” She grabbed his wrist, held him in place. “I’ve only ever touched myself.”
Kjeld’s jaw went slack. “Fuck.”
It never once crossed his mind that she was a virgin. He made the thoughtless assumption that she was experienced, and instead she was far from it. Now the pads of his fingers were sweeping across her clit and there was something darkly satisfying knowing he would be the first to touch her. Primal urges ignited inside him, overwhelming him with the intrinsic need to possess her. To own her. He wanted to be all of her firsts and all of her evers. The first and only to ever touch her. The first and only to ever taste her. The first and only to ever fuck her.
But his mind pulled back on the reins of his greed.
He shook his head, forced himself to listen to the voice of reason. Logic reminded him that this was all her fault.That these compulsive desires were the result of the fae blood coursing through him. The loss of his humanity made him feral. Mindless when it came to her. That were he still human, he would be able to maintain some sense of decorum, of gallantry. Yet the whispers of his heart wove through the lies. Before Caelian wished for him to be fae, she already occupied every corner of his mind. His nights were restless, with sleep evading him, because every time he closed his eyes, he dreamt of her. He longed for her then, he pined for her now. His fixation, his infatuation with her refused to ebb. With each passing day his hunger for her grew until he was starving, until every hour was more painful than the last.
“You’re not going to stop, are you?” she panted, her gaze hungry as she urged his hand lower.
He tensed, sucking in a sharp breath. “Caelian, I think?—”
“Please, Kjeld. Please don’t stop.” She arched her hips, silently pleading for more, guiding his fingers to where she wanted him the most.
Their already tenuous relationship was about to become infinitely more complicated.
“Please.” Her voice broke, and he swallowed the vile swear clogging the back of his throat.
This female would be the end of him.
One finger. That was all he would give her.
Bleeding hell, it was probably all she could take.
So, he obliged, convincing himself he was only doing it for her. Because he’d already edged her severely, the very least he could do was give her the release she craved.
Cupping her center, he slid his middle finger inside her.
She clenched around him, her back bowing, offering him a perfect view of her flushed breasts.
Kjeld dunked his other arm into the water and wrapped it around her, bracing her. If his free hand coasted over her leftbreast to squeeze and pinch her nipple, then it was merely because he wanted to give her a more fulfilling experience.
He slowly worked her, his finger gliding in and out, pushing a bit further each time. She writhed against him, grinding her hips, chasing that high only he could give. His thumb teased her clit, toying with the bundle of nerves until she spasmed. Water sloshed over the edge of the tub, soaking his pants, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t stop staring at Caelian, at the way she so easily unraveled around his finger. Gods above, how glorious would it be to witness her come undone with his cock buried deep inside her instead?
