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The thought of it unfurls through me like flame.

“Then take full advantage,” I whisper. “Because beyond this room, I will still be fiercely impossible. But here…” My pulse stumbles hard. “Here, I mean to let you have your way with me.”

A rough, shaken breath leaves him.

“Trouble, you offer me that, and you make a savage of me. I mean to undress you, perch you on the edge of this tub, spread your creamy thighs wide, and bury my face in your sweet, dripping cunt.”

My mouth opens in pure, helpless astonishment.

The mouth on him.

Then, scrupulously, I lift my hands to his shirt and begin undoing the ties, never taking my eyes off his face.

“Make a wreck of me.”

Alex

Her words hang in the steamy air, bold and inviting, as her fingers work to open my shirt. But I catch her wrists gently, halting her progress with a grin that belies the fire raging through me.

“Not yet,” I murmur, my voice rough with need. “You’re first, Róisín. Let me savour this moment.”

I let her go, and step back enough to look at her. Her breathing is unsteady now, her skin already flushed. I loosen the fastening of her gown and ease it down from her shoulders, then reach for the ties of her shift beneath. Linen whispers over her skin as I draw it lower, unveiling her slowly in the warm gold of the candlelight. The air smells of lavender and warm water, with something sweeter underneath caused by the living warmth of her.

“Turn for me,” I say, my tone low and commanding, laced with hunger.

She hesitates for a heartbeat, her eyes locking onto mine, then pivots slowly, giving me every curve with a grace that feels almost cruel. Candlelight traces the line of her spine, leading to the flare of her hips, to her tight round ass I want to sink my teeth into.

I drink her in—the freckles dusting her shoulders, the way her hair cascades down her back, the subtle tremble in her thighs. She’s exquisite, every part of her begging to be touched and tasted.

When she faces me again, I close the distance. Her skin is impossibly soft. I cup her breasts in my hands, thumbs brushing over her hardening nipples. Leaning down, I take one into my mouth, sucking gently at first, then harder, my tongue flicking against the tight peak. She gasps, her hands threading into my hair, pulling me closer. I lavish attention on it, nipping lightly before soothing with wet, open-mouthed kisses. Then I switch to the other, drawing it deep, feeling her body respond, her shivery breaths coming quicker, hips shifting restlessly.

She tugs at my shirt again, more insistent now, and I let her, stepping back to shrug it off. Her hands move to my belt, unbuckling it with eager fingers, then shoving my trousers down. As they pool at my feet, her palm presses against my cock, stroking the rigid length, making it throb under her touch. I groan at the friction, but before she can go further, I capture her hand and bring it to my lips, kissing her knuckles.

“Playful tease,” I chuckle, though my voice strains. “But I told you—you’re first.”

Steam rises in invitation from the water in pale ribbons. I steady her as she steps in, then follow suit. The heat envelops my legs as I sink in up to my thighs.

I ease her onto the wide edge of the tub, water kissing at her calves as she settles there. Then I lower myself before her, and rest my hands lightly at her knees. Her body answers at once, not with words, but with the hitch of her breath, the rise of colour in her cheeks, and in the way her fingers tighten on the edge of the tub.

Her cunt is already slick, pink and swollen, glistening with arousal.

My hands slide slowly over her knees, then higher, thumbs brushing the delicate inside of her thighs. “You’re unbearable like this,” I murmur, my voice low and rough with wanting. “Do you know that?”

Colour deepens in her face, but so does something brighter, a quiet, pleased pride that only makes her more beautiful. I press a lingering kiss to her thigh and feel the shiver that follows.

“The Gods intended for you to be adored,” I tell her, glancing up. “Spoiled by attention. Looked at too long. Wanted too easily.”

Her mouth curves at once, small and sure of itself. “There’s only one I care to be wanted by.”

I kiss her again, slower this time, with all the patience reverence requires, letting my hands and mouth tell her what my words already have: that she is exquisite, that she is devastating, that I could stay here at her feet for hours and still leave wanting more.

I don’t make her wait any longer. My mouth descends, tongue parting her to lap at her clit. And gods, I could lose myself in the taste of her, in the warmth of her, in the way her whole body answers in ripples and tremors.

She cries out, a sound that’s pure music—breathy and high, like a lyric note trembling on the edge of a melody. I’ve heard women moan before, but never like this, never paid attention to the way their voice lilts, rises and falls in these exquisite, unrepeated cadences.

Each flick of my tongue draws soft whimpers that curl into gasps, and drawn-out sighs that vibrate through her body. I want to etch them into my memory, replay this symphony in my mind long after the moment has passed. My hands keep her steady as pleasure pulls her apart, and the water rocks gently around my knees with every startled movement she makes.

I feast on her, sucking her clit between my lips, then delving my tongue inside her, tasting her wetness, feeling her walls clench. My hands grip her thighs, spreading her wider, holding her steady as she bucks against my face. Fingers join in, two sliding deep, curling to hit that spot that makes her arch, her sounds growing wilder—lyrical trills breaking into desperate pleas.