Page 76 of Justice for Francesca

He chuckled. “I like pampering you. Gives me an excuse to get you clean so I can get you dirty all over again.”

Tripoli did one last quick test of the water temperature before scooping her up into his arms and lowering her into the bubbles and water. Kneeling at her side outside of the tub, he made sure her hair flowed over the edge and the folded towel underneath her neck so that lying back against the tub wall was comfortable for her.

Still kneeling at the side of the tub, he leaned over to kiss her lips—a butterfly-wing brush of contact.

“Mmm… this is nice,” she whispered.

Tripoli brushed a few strands of her hair back from her forehead, and he saw the lights from the candles reflecting in her eyes. “Yes. It’s more than nice,” he agreed.

Reaching into the water, he found her arm and drew it up to the surface, laying it on the edge of the tub. He took the bar of soap into his hands, dipping it into the bathwater, and began to work up a lather between his hands. When he had enough soap to cover her skin, he set the bar aside and picked up her foot closest to him. Making sure to keep his movements slow and gentle, he kissed the top of her foot and the ankle and then left a string of soft, wet, open-mouth kisses all the way up her shin to just above her knee, and his soap-covered hands followed behind his mouth, massaging each and every muscle along the way.

“Lavender soap?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“A little girly for you, isn’t it?” she teased.

“Ryleigh ran a couple of errands for me today while we were at the office being questioned. Figured you might need it.”

When he reached her thigh, he held her leg loosely over the water with one hand, then cupped the other and drew handfuls of water repeatedly to rinse her off. Gently, he replaced her leg into the water, then picked up the soap and re-lathered his hands. He started the process again, this time with her hand and arm closest to him, kissing the pads of her fingers, the back of her hand, the palm, the inside of her wrist, and then leaving another line of kisses up her arm to the inside of her elbow and on to her shoulder. His hands followed, again massaging all of the muscles his lips touched, then proceeded to rinse the soap and bubbles from her arm.

Her left side pampered, he stood and crossed to the right side of the tub and repeated the process on the other side of her body. Every moment, she watched his face through heavy-lidded eyes, and he was thrilled she was allowing herself to enjoy every touch instead of protesting that she could do it herself or that he was spoiling her too much. Maybe he was finally getting through to her that not only did he see this as his responsibility, but that he enjoyed taking care of her.

When he settled her right arm back in the water, her eyes closed completely, and the smile on her face was now open and sensual.

“Francesca?”

“Hmm?”

He moved behind her head, still on his knees. From above, he brushed a kiss against her lips, then bumped her nose with his. “Just making sure you’re still with me,” he whispered.

“Oh yeah. I’m still here.”

“Good. Keep your eyes closed. Don’t open them unless I tell you to.”

He lathered up his hands again, then settled them on her shoulders. Caressing her skin as he went, each downward stroke went slightly lower, his fingertips brushing the top of her breasts, drawing lazy, loose circles from the outside edge of each globe to the valley between them. Soon, his fingertips dipped beneath the waterline and found her nipples already tightly budded from the movement of the water, occasionally exposing them to the air, then covering them again.

Cupping the undersides of her breasts, his thumbs brushed over her nipples as he gently massaged her soft flesh. His mouth was next to her ear, and he inhaled the scent of her and the lavender. “You’re so beautiful, Francesca. I wish you could see yourself right now. You’re like sex personified. Strong. Powerful.” He groaned. “I can barely keep myself from dragging you out of the water and, soaking wet or not, throwing you into my bed and fucking you senseless.”

“Mmm… what’s stopping you?” she drawled.

“I haven’t touched all of you yet,” he whispered.

Reluctantly, he let go of her breasts and leaned further forward. He rested his chin on her shoulder, his warm breath fanning across her skin, and his hands traveled down her sides to her waist, her hips, then across to the vee of her thighs. Fingers slid between the folds of her pussy, stroking the sensitive skin and stimulating blood flow. She moaned, and his dominant side began to growl inside his head.

Francesca shifted in the water as if she was trying to make his fingers go where she needed them to be. His left hand slid back up to her pelvis, and he applied gentle pressure to hold her hips in place. Meanwhile, his other hand stayed in place, his index finger searching out her clit, which was already extended past its hood. Just the first ghost of his touch brushing against it caused her to try and pump her hips up in the water. He smiled. Therewas no way she was going anywhere since his upper body and other arm were holding her down.

“No, no, stay still,” he whispered into her ear. The bubbles began to dissipate, and he could see his hands at work under the water. “Open your eyes, Francesca. Watch what I do to you. Watch how your body responds to me.”

Turning slightly to gaze at her profile, he watched as her eyes opened lazily, stuck at half-mast, and only then did he begin to apply pressure to her clit with his thumb while two fingers of his right hand slid into her pussy. Immediately, she let out a gasp, and he felt her hips involuntarily react to the invasion.

“Keep your eyes focused on my hands. Draw your knees up along the side of the bath, sweetheart.” She complied, her movements languid, as she stared at his hands between her legs. He licked the shell of her ear, then gently grazed it with his teeth. “That’s it, sweetheart. Let me in.”

The hand holding her hips in place slipped farther down so that his entire left hand was at the apex of her thighs. Despite having sex last night and this morning, she was still tight and trying to squeeze his fingers. He withdrew, then pressed back inside—slow, languid thrusts, perfectly in time with the movements of the fingers on his other hand gently rubbing circles over and around her hard little button.

Her breathing began to speed up, and the panting started to take on a desperate edge to it. She tried to buck her hips again for more friction, but he refused to let her get away with that. “Stop moving, Francesca. Relax. I’ll get you there.”

“Ethan,” she whimpered. “Please.”

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