Page 44 of Scorch

There's that edge again. My cock throbs. I can't wait to fucking tame this woman.

“This shower is big enough for all of your brothers to fit in here.”

I growl before I realize I'm even responding, and she laughs out loud. It's music to my ears.

“I’m not saying I want to share the shower with your brothers any more than you do. I'm not saying they should. I'm just saying they could. So relax.”

I strip my clothes off and throw them into the hamper.

“I like a man who keeps his things tidy.”

“Is that right?” I ask, opening the shower door. Steam billows out at my skin.

“So my house fits your needs? Is it clean enough for you, your majesty?”

She's extremely neat and tidy and hates anything out of place. Even before she gets to work, she always has to clean up her space. Her car is impeccable.

When I found out she was coming here, I hired an entire team to clean my house from top to bottom. Even though I already have a housekeeper, we did a complete deep clean all the way down to the basement.

“It does. I like that.” She finishes rinsing her hair and turns to face me.

“Dear God,” she says, shaking her head. “How much do you lift?”

“Like, how often? Or how many weights?”

She shakes her head. “Never mind. I don't think it would make sense to me anyway. I wouldn't know what it looks like to bench press fifty or a thousand pounds. Your body speaks for itself.”

“Is that right?” I look down on my body. “What does it say?”

All traces of humor leave her. She looks from the top of my head, down my neck, and over my shoulders. The heat of her gaze skates down my skin to my massive erection, my strong thighs, all the way down my legs.

“Your body looks like it's been honed into an instrument of torture. Perfection.” She licks her lips and swallows. “It says you're trained to kill.”

She's not wrong.

I step into the shower. “It also says that you are incredibly turned on by me,” she whispers, almost surprised.

“Did you seriously need to see my hard-on to know that?”

I'm going to go to bed tonight with the worst fucking case of blue balls I've ever had in my life.

Jesus fucking Christ.

“Honestly? No. Of all the things I've doubted about you and me so far in this short time that I've known you, your attraction to me has not been one of them.”

Yet she lets me hold her hand. She's let me comfort her. Lydia may be afraid of me, but if she is, she hides it well.

I reach for the bar of soap and scrub it on my back. Quickly wash and rinse.

I'm aware of her watching me. I'm aware of the way her breath hitches, and she looks away.

I want to touch her. I want to feel her. I want her to touch me.

She leans over me, reaching for the conditioner that Polina bought her. Her arm brushes mine, and I have to hold my breath to keep myself still. To keep myself from grabbing her and ravishing her right here in the shower, hours after I've taken her into my captivity.

I swallow hard, the rise of adrenaline making the blood pump in my veins.

“See? It's easy to read.” She turns and looks at me, her thick lashes dotted with droplets of water. She moves closer to me. “God, so many things I wish I knew.”

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