Page 47 of Court of Bone and Amethyst

“Do you need this?” Zyren asks. He’s rubbing the bar along his collarbone and down his chest, and my mouth runs dry.

“Um, yes. When you’re finished.”

He takes his time with it, soaping his neck and face, his back, his hair. When he rinses, he shakes his head back and forth like a wolf to get the droplets of excess water out of it. I try not to stare, my blood pulsing like lightning through my body, a low throb starting between my legs.

When he’s finally finished, he stands and walks toward me, the water swirling just below his hips. I can’t help but stare now, and his eyes burn into mine. It’s a bad idea for him to come any closer. The air feels taut between us, more so with every inch hetravels. He sinks down into the water in front of me and hands me the soap.

I take it and lather my face and hair first. Zyren’s eyes don’t leave me for a moment as I dunk beneath the water again to rinse. When I surface, the look he’s giving me is that of a dragon who has spotted his dinner. My breath catches, and I drop the soap.

My hand darts down into the water to grab it, and Zyren does the same thing. Our fingers tangle at the bottom of the pool. I extricate them, accidentally brushing his knee as I pull my hand back. Zyren lifts his hand above the water, holding the escaped bar.

“Perhaps you need some help, my queen?”

And I know I should say no, but what I do instead is turn around, knees pulled up to my chest. I pull my hair out of the way, revealing my bare back.

Zyren’s fingers on my shoulders are soft, the soap slippery as he slides it across my skin. My body betrays me, a shiver running through me at his touch. I can feel his knees on either side of me as he kneels, close enough that his breath tickles my neck. He continues sliding the soap along my back, lathering it between his hands and rubbing his palms across my skin. He cleans each arm, all the way down to my fingers, and down to the middle of my back.

“Get up on your knees,” he says, his voice several octaves deeper. “I can’t get to the rest of you under the water.”

Slowly, I do as instructed, knowing full well it reveals every intimate part of me.

He lathers soap on his hands again and slides them down my sides, over my hips, and across my ass cheeks. He repeats the movement several times, and then he reaches around to the front, his fingers wandering over my stomach, up over myribcage, stopping just shy of touching the bottoms of my breasts. I suck in a breath as he does this twice more.

And then he stops. “I assume you can get the rest.”

I turn and look at him. At the sudden absence of his touch, the built-up tension in my body leaves me feeling like a musical instrument with a song only half-played. Slowly, I pivot around to face him, my resolve completely abandoning me.

“No,” I say, my voice thick. “I think you missed a few spots.”

I sink into the water, straddling his lap. Zyren growls and crushes me against him, steam rising around us as I kiss him frantically, tongues and teeth clashing together. My hand reaches down between us to guide him into me. We both gasp as he slides in, deeper and deeper, filling every inch of me. His arms wrap around my back, holding me firmly in place.

My hips gyrate against him, and he lets out a low groan. Pleasure spikes through me, and I bury my face into his neck, my arms cradled around the back of his head, fingers winding through his hair. I slide back and forth along him, slowly, slowly, slowly, drawing out the bliss until we both moan. My fingernails dig into his shoulder, and he growls and moves one hand down to squeeze my ass as I grind against him.

I begin to pick up the pace, the water splashing around us as I move faster along him, rocking back and forth. Zyren moves his mouth to my breasts, flicking my nipples with his tongue as I ride him. Then biting along my shoulder, then my neck. When he reaches up and pulls my hair, a wave of pain and pleasure shoot through me, and my climax begins to ripple out of me.

When Zyren reaches down between us and rolls his thumb over the sensitive star of ecstasy at the top of my entrance, I shatter against him, bliss exploding out of me. Zyren sticks a hand over my mouth to muffle my cries, and then with several final massive thrusts of his own, he buries his face in my hair and comes powerfully inside of me.

We collapse against each other as the pleasure subsides, our breath mingled and heavy, hearts racing.

“Why must you always be my undoing?” Zyren groans, holding me against him.

“You brought that on yourself,” I respond breathlessly.

But his words send a shiver down my spine…undoing. I have to be stronger, to stop giving in to my desires. There can never be a future between us. I know that. Iwillfind a way to put distance between us. I have to.

He must feel something in the way I’m holding my body, some faint tremor perhaps, because he leans back and looks at me with such tenderness, it breaks my heart. “Are you okay, Sarielle?”

But then voices approach from the caves further down, and Zyren and I push apart from each other, shifting to opposite ends of the pool. A moment later, Owyn and Merla step into view.

“Enjoying the heat, eh?” Owyn asks with a smile. His words are ironic, but I don’t detect any alternate meaning; he doesn’t seem to suspect anything.

“Yes, it’s lovely,” I respond. “We’ll be out in just a moment.”

When they’ve passed, we climb out of the pool and towel off, then dress in the thick, velvety robes stacked on the table and return to our rooms. Upon arrival, I see that the wardrobe doors are open, and several sets of fine dresses have been placed inside, along with night gowns for later. I’ve rarely worn such finery in all my life.

We have a bit of time before dinner, so I rest in the bed while Zyren does the same in the nearby chair. After my hair dries, I brush it in front of the mirror in the corner, and pick a dress from the wardrobe. I choose a black, brushed silk with white fur trimming the collar. The bodice is tight and criss-crossed withwhite ribbon, and the skirt flares out slightly before skimming just above the floor.

Zyren makes sure my door is locked and steps into his adjoining room to change also, and comes back wearing black pants, a deep crimson tunic, and a black cloak. I can’t see them, but I know he has his daggers hidden in his boots, and several other places. He scowls, as if somehow offended at the clothing.

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