Page 31 of Across the Crimson Sands

Arilee nodded, her eyes never leaving mine. I turned on the water, adjusting the temperature before stepping under the spray with her in my arms.

The warm water cascaded over us, steam rising to fill the enclosed space. Arilee inhaled sharply as the heat hit her skin, her body arching against mine. The feeling of her wet, slippery form pressed against me was intoxicating.

I set her down carefully, making sure she had her footing on the slick tile. My hands ran down her sides, savoring the feel of her smooth skin beneath my palms. Arilee’s eyes fluttered closed, a soft sigh escaping her lips.

“Turn around,” I instructed, my voice husky with desire.

Arilee complied, presenting her back to me. I reached for the soap, lathering it between my hands before beginning to wash her. I started at her shoulders, kneading the tense muscles there. Arilee leaned into my touch, sighing contentedly.

As I worked my way down her back, I marveled at the contrast between us. Her pale, delicate skin against my gray, battle-hardened hide. We were so different, yet in this moment, we fit together perfectly.

My hands slid around to her front, cupping her breasts. Arilee gasped, her head falling back. I nuzzled into her neck, inhaling her intoxicating scent.

“Rokan,” she breathed, her voice thick with need.

My hands continued their exploration of Arilee’s form, softer and more delicate than any I’d ever known before. My fingers rolled her pebbled nipples between them, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from her. She arched into my touch, her body a symphony of reactions, each one resonating within me.

“Rokan,” she whimpered as she shook. “What are you...”

“Making sure you’re totally clean,” I replied, my voice a low rumble against the backdrop of the water’s rhythmic patter.

My hand trailed down her quivering belly, fingers splaying over the smooth skin of her lower abdomen. Heat emanated from her core. My hand slipped lower, brushing through the soft curls before delving into her slick folds.

Arilee’s breath hitched as I found her clit, circling the sensitive bundle of nerves with deliberate precision. Her hips bucked, seeking more, and I obliged, my fingers deftly working over and around her most intimate places.

“Oh, God,” she moaned, her hands reaching back to grip my thighs for support.

I licked and nipped at her neck, my canines grazing her skin, careful not to break it. Her scent was maddening, a drug I couldn’t seem to get enough of. And then, an unexpected urge surged through me—the primal drive to claim her, to mark her as mine with a Vinduthi claiming bite.

The shock of the thought nearly made me recoil. What was I thinking? I was too broken for a mate, too tainted by the wars and the horrors I’d seen. I couldn’t offer her anything more than fleeting pleasure, a temporary respite from the harsh realities of her life.

And yet, the idea of sinking my teeth into her, of binding her to me with my DNA, was intoxicating. It was a foolish, dangerous fantasy, one I quickly pushed aside.

“You’re so responsive,” I whispered into her ear, my fingers continuing their wicked dance. “So beautiful.”

Arilee’s response was a series of incoherent whimpers, her body writhing under my touch. Her walls tightened around my fingers as I slowly finger-fucked her, the heel of my palm grinding against her clit with each deliberate thrust.

The sounds of our mingled pleasures echoed off the tiled walls, audible proof of the desire that raged between us. I wanted her, needed to consume her, to brand her with my touch in ways that went beyond the physical.

“Come for me, Arilee,” I commanded, my voice barely recognizable to my own ears.

As if my words were the final key, Arilee’s body convulsed, her inner muscles clamping down on my fingers as she cried out her release. The sound of her pleasure was music to my ears, a triumphant cry that filled the small space.

I pulled Arilee into my arms, her body limp and sated from her recent climax. Her head lolled against my chest, a faint, satisfied smile playing on her lips. I carried her to the bed, the soft sheets a stark contrast to her flushed skin. Gently, I laid her down, her blonde hair fanning out around her like a halo.

Kneeling between her legs, I took a moment to appreciate the sight before me. Arilee’s body was a canvas of pale skin, marked by the harsh realities of her past, yet she lay there, trusting me with an innocence that both humbled and terrified me. Those beautiful blue eyes met mine, a silent invitation that ignited a fire within my core.

I leaned forward, my hands on her thighs, spreading them wider. I could smell her arousal, a heady scent that beckoned me closer. My gaze fixed on the glistening prize between her legs, and I licked my lips in anticipation. Nothing had ever tasted as good as Arilee’s desire.

“Rokan,” she whispered, her voice a mixture of need and vulnerability.

“I’ve got you,” I assured her, my voice a low growl that vibrated through the room.

I lowered my head, my tongue darting out for a tentative taste. The sweetness of her exploded on my tongue, a flavor so intoxicating that I could only groan in approval. Arilee’s hips bucked at the sound, a soft whimper escaping her lips as she fisted her hands in my hair.

My hands moved to grip her hips, holding her in place as I delved deeper. My tongue lapped at her, swirling around her clit before I sucked the sensitive nub into my mouth. Arilee’s response was immediate, her body arching off the bed as she cried out in pleasure.

“Oh, God, Rokan,” she panted, her fingers carding through my hair, grazing against my horns.

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