Page 205 of Reign

“You did.”

His pride should be illegal. It’s all over his face, dark and satisfied, even while I’m embarrassed enough to evaporate.

“That was humiliating,” I whisper.

“No.” He lowers his mouth to my neck.

My breath catches when his tongue drags slowly over the damp skin there.

He kisses my jaw next, then the tear-damp skin beneath my eye.

“There she is,” he murmurs against my skin. “My perfect, messy girl.”

He stays over me until the trembling begins to ease.

His hand moves slowly over my stomach, his breathing still rough against my neck. Then he pulls out.

My body clenches around the sudden absence, and a small sound escapes me.

“Easy, princesa.”

His mouth brushes mine.

But he doesn’t kiss me.

He pushes himself upright, pulls his pants back into place, and fastens them before reaching for the silk at my wrists. He loosens the first knot, takes my wrist, and guides my arm to the mattress before freeing the other. Once both arms are free, he takes one wrist in each hand and studies the faint pink impressions left behind.

“Sore?”

“A little.”

His thumbs work over the tender skin in slow circles, firm enough to ease the ache. He turns each wrist, checks beneath them, then lifts one to his mouth and kisses the inside.

My pulse jumps against his lips.

He releases my ankles and rubs warmth back into them, spending extra time on the places where I pulled hardest against the silk.

By the time he finishes, my limbs feel less like disconnected pieces of someone else’s body.

Luciano reaches for the water beside the bed and twists off the cap.

“Drink.”

“I can hold it.”

“I know.”

He keeps the bottle against my mouth.

I’m too tired to make this into an argument, so I take several small sips while he watches me swallow.

He sets the bottle aside, then carefully draws my dress back over my hips and thighs.

His arms slide beneath my back and knees.

“Where are we going?”

“To your bathroom.”