Page 63 of A Shattered Kingdom of Steel

I snort. “Clearly, you haven’t smelled me.”

He swallows. “I don’t need to.”

Rolling my eyes, I turn around and step out of my pants. I can feel the heat of Asheros’s gaze lingering on my naked body, but I ignore it and move ahead, dipping my feet into the pool. The water is so clear that, if not for the waterfall, it would look like glass.

The stone at the bottom is smooth, softened by years and years of water gently lapping against the surface. I wade in deeper, moving until I reach the waterfall. Stepping under it, I lean my head back and let the water spray my face and hair. It’s cold, but it feels so good against my skin. And although I don’t have soap, I work my hands into my scalp like I do.

“You’re serious about that bath.” Asheros’s voice echoes off the cave walls. He keeps his tone casual, though I can detect the underlying strain he tries to hide.

Water runs from my shoulders, down my chest. I stop to look at him. “Completely serious.”

His eyes lock with mine. Taking long strides forward, he tugs his shirt off and over his head, heated gaze not once breaking from me.

“Then perhaps I am in need of one, too.”

Asheros advances. The closer he gets to me, the more of him I drink in. His white-blond hair is messy, disheveled from days of traveling. His crystal-blue irises glint in the light, though a dark haze takes hold of them. I feel bare, exposed under the intensity of his stare. If I wasn’t already naked, I would think he was undressing me with his eyes. Looking at me like he wants to devour me.

My nipples harden, trails of cold water running down my body. Despite the cool air in the cave, heat swirls down my arms, my chest, my stomach…

He wades into the pool. As he does, his leather pants darken, the wet material clinging to his muscular frame. My focus drops. My eyes roam down his body—to his defined collarbones, the planes of his bare chest, the hardness I see gathering beneath his soaked pants.

I suck in a breath. My palm meets my chest, fingers stretched up to the base of my neck. Fire burns in my stomach, the molten heat coursing through me, moving lower and lower and lower.

Asheros continues steadily, closing the gap between us with each step.

I’m transfixed by him, frozen in place. All I can do is watch him, water cascading down his face and neck. Watch the muscles in his jaw tick. Watch his forearms flex.

He stops when he reaches me. His eyes fall from mine. I follow his line of sight to my chest, smattered with water droplets. To my hard, hard nipples begging to be touched. I ache for him—ache for his hands to clasp my breasts. For his hips to press against mine. Already, molten heat courses through my lower abdomen despite the chill from the waterfall over us.

My core aches with the need to be filled.

Filled by him.

The silence is heavy between us, the rising tension between our bodies ripe with need and desire. In one motion, he takes my face between both of his hands. His mouth collides with mine. Pressing my palms to his torso, I explore the hard lines of his body, craning my head back to deepen the kiss. His hands move down the length of my body, only stopping to grab my hips.

My hands roam up to his neck, clutching to him as if he’s the very air I breathe. Gods, I drink him in like a female dying of thirst. Our mouths are rough and demanding, our grip on each other iron-tight. It’s as if whatever barrier between us has shattered into a thousand pieces, never to stop us from touching each other like this ever, ever again.

“Fuck, Lymseia,” he groans against my lips. “Let me touch you.”

My core throbs with anticipation. “I’m not stopping you.”

“Good,” he breathes. Shadows bleed from his back. He reaches down to cup my aching sex through the spray, his shadows wrapping behind me like another body holding me in place.

“Relax, Bladesinger,” he purrs, sending intense shivers down my body. “I’ve got you.”

Eyes fluttering, I let myself go. Though I’m still standing, I lean back, letting his shadows cradle my weight.

He drags two fingers between my breasts and down my abdomen. Teasing at my sensitive flesh, he traces the outline of my entrance, setting every fiber of my body aflame.

I pant and lean my head back in pleasure.

Asheros leans forward, his kisses circling my pebbled nipple before he takes it into his mouth. Lightly sucking, he flicks his tongue in back-and-forth motions, lingering when I pant. The heat of his mouth on my body—the pleasure it elicits—quickens my breath.

Touching the pads of his fingers to my throbbing core, he rubs me in small, circular motions.

Scorching pleasure ignites, searing my senses, and I let out a low, guttural moan.

“Yes, Bladesinger,” he coos. “Lose yourself to me.”

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