Breathing through his nose, he pressed his forehead against hers and closed his eyes. His skin stung where she’d scratched him. The scent of their intercourse filled his head, making it almost impossible to think.
“This can’t happen again.”
An oppressive silence followed his statement. Someone coughed in the corridor. Nia stiffened in his arms. The fingers on his biceps tightened, then she pushed him away on a half shout.
He tucked himself into his pants. Her shredded leggings lay on the deck. Her top covered her to mid-thigh.
“You bastard,” she whispered, and his stomach sank.
He deserved whatever she was about to scream at him.
She fisted her hands like she was readying to punch him. “You’re going to fucking abandon me again, aren’t you?”
The truth in her words froze him. Every time their passions exploded between them, he’d left. He’d told himself it was to protect her, because she was the one in the vulnerable position, but what if it had had the opposite effect? What if by leaving, he’d only hurt her?
Conflicting emotions tumbled through him, freezing him to the spot as he watched her hands clench and release beside her, like a ticking bomb counting the seconds to detonation.
Then don’t abandon her.
He stepped toward her. She stiffened, her fingers becoming still, eyes narrowing.
He extended his hand. “Come,” he said softly.
Indecision furrowed her brow, but she placed her fingers in his. Gently, he tugged her toward the washroom. The door slid open, but instead of going inside, he turned her to face him. She kept his gaze as he took the hem of her top in his hands and pulled it over her head. Next, he undid her beige bra and slid it off her arms, then slipped her matching underwear down her legs, until the only thing she wore was her locket and bonds.
Fully naked, she was stunning, but it wasn’t what this was about—no matter how much his cock stirred at the sight of all her bare flesh.
He tugged her through the washroom and into the steam shower. It was only built for one, and he stayed in the doorway as he turned it on. The high-pressured air and moisture rushed through the space, encircling them both.
Mace kept her in there until her hair was fully damp, then turned off the pressure. He reached for the nearest soap, realized it was the one he used, but squirted the foam into his palm anyway. The entire time, she kept her eyes on him, watching like she wasn’t completely sure what was happening.
He didn’t understand what the hell he was doing either.
Starting with her shoulders, he slid the foamy soap across her skin. Down her silky arms, across the natural swell of her belly, between her satiny legs—he tried to keep it professional, but when she began to pant softly, all he wanted to do was take her again.
Standing, he tried to ignore the glazed look of passion in her eyes as he finished with her hair, then pressed the control to initiate the rinse. Within ten seconds, he became as soaked as she.
He shut off the steam, and stepped out of the stall, grabbing the biggest towel from the wall compartment. With quick movements, he rubbed the residual moisture off her body, then dried his chest. Wherever his hands traveled, her eyes followed. He tried to squeeze as much moisture out of her hair as he could, then wrapped the damp towel around her body, tucking it securely beneath her armpits.
Taking her hand, he walked backward, tugging her out of the washroom. As soon as she was free of its confines, he swept her into his arms. She let out a gasp.
Before she could protest, he settled her in his lap on the bed—and held her.
His pants were damp. Her hair dripped on him. His body still sang with the scratches she’d given him. But for a few, quiet minutes, they sat together. Her body relaxed, sinking into his. With that relaxation, came awareness.
The towel had ridden up to where it barely covered anything below her navel. The skin of her shoulders was incredibly soft beneath his fingers. He’d seen her naked and wanted to explore more. They’d had a quick fuck and now he wanted a slow one.
And if he stayed any longer, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself.
It pained him to say his next words. “I’ll do as you wish.” His throat was so tight, it hurt to speak. He didn’t want to let her go and pressed his lips to her temple. “I’ll sever the legal bond and take you to common holding after your shift tomorrow. You will be free of me.”
Nia stiffened in his arms.
Over the past few minutes, she’d existed in a state of dazed contentment, her body warm, her mind calm.
Now Mace’s words brutally yanked her from that head space. She scrambled off his lap, the towel clutched tight to her body, tenderness throbbing between her legs in reminder of what they’d done. Every breath she took into her lungs was a struggle. He remained seated, hands braced beside his thighs. She stared at him, lips parted, and couldn’t for the life of her explain the panic taking hold of heart.
He was doing what she wanted. They wouldn’t be married any longer. Why did his words feel like a betrayal?
