Page 47 of His Weekend Wife

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

“Come with me.” He took her hand and led her into the bathroom. He turned on the water to the bathtub, searched the bottles on the tub and found bath oil. He added it to the water, then turned back to her. He got his fill of her beautiful body before helping her into the water. “I’ve sullied you so now I must clean you,” he said.

She stepped into the tub. “Are you joining me?”

“Yes, bella. Is the water too hot?”

“No, it’s perfect.” She settled into the water, closed her eyes and moaned in delight. “This feels good.”

He remembered the last time she’d taken a bath and how he’d brought her to orgasm and his cock jerked. Behave yourself.

Once the water was up to her waist, he joined her, thankful that the tub was big enough for his six-foot height and for Ash also. Whomever designed this bathroom certainly did think ahead.

She was right. The water was perfect. He eased back against the tub, the water splashed around his chest, and over the edge to splatter on the floor. “Come lean against me, sweetheart, so that I can wash your hair.”

She did as he requested, nestling against his chest, her bottom seated between his thighs. His cock was certainly agreeable to taking a bath with her. After the amazing orgasm, he shouldn’t be this ready again, but his body was on automatic pilot.

Rubbing his hands through her hair, he lathered in a good amount of the coconut scented shampoo, massaging her scalp. “Am I hitting all of the right spots?”

Her moan vibrated his chest. He laughed and continued to rub her head, smoothing the suds all the way from the roots to ends of her hair. Dry, her hair was long. Wet, it far exceeded anything imaginable.

She relaxed against him and he moved his hands to her shoulders, her neck, feeling the muscle ease one by one. He enjoyed indulging her, loved how a whimper sounded from her, how her hands were laying easily on his thighs. The water swarmed around them, engulfing them in the warmth and comfort.

It would be so easy for him to forget the time that had separated them. How she’d broken his heart. Yes, the Declan Knight was capable of having his heart broken and she’d managed to break it, then stomp on it. Logically, it was in his best interest to forget their history and remember this was only a temporary situation. But he still cared for her. Loved her, in fact.

Did that make him a sap?

Probably so.

Her eyes were shut and her head was leaning against his shoulder. “I feel amazing,” she whispered.

“That’s the point. All you should be doing is relaxing and enjoying.”

“Those hands of yours make it hard for anything else. I could stay here forever.”

He stiffened. Forever?

He reached for a washcloth, dipped it into the water and used it to help rinse the soap from her hair. Once that was finished, he spotted a bottle of luxurious body soap, poured a dollop into his palms, rubbed them together then kneaded her shoulders, sliding his hands down her arms, lifting his hands to scrub her fingers, then back up to her shoulders. A low moan escaped her, making his body ache.

*****

Ash felt deliciously and mindlessly joyful as Declan rubbed the soap over her body. His large hands worked magic on her nerve endings. She doubted life could get any better. This was complete and total heaven.

Being that she was still relaxed from their lovemaking and now with the warmth of the water and his hands all made her want to curl into him and stay. What in the world was he doing to her? This wasn’t supposed to be part of the business deal. He wasn’t supposed to treat her like he cared. Did he want her to fall mindlessly? To go insane with need?

His hands cupped her breasts, smoothing the silken wash over the mounds, tweaking her nipples. He caressed his way down her stomach, to her hips, then glided his hand between her thighs and washing away the remnants of their lovemaking. Her breath hitched when he brushed against her sensitive clit, tracing the swollen nub and trembling seam of her body. He brought his hands back to her breasts, expertly kneading them.

“Have I ever told you that you have the most amazing breasts?” he whispered next to her ear.

“A few times, back when we were—” She stopped herself. They were still married.

“Is it hard to speak the word?”

“No. I—well, I just feel vulnerable when I say it.”

“These are perfect too.” He swirled his fingers around her nipples. They reacted by tingling and bunching. How was it possible that he could send electrical jolts to every part of her?

He rubbed his chin against her shoulder, his stubble grazing her skin. She guessed she had his ‘mark’ on her inner thighs too. But what mattered most, he’d left his mark deep inside of her. A tattoo, or branding, on her heart.

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