Page 41 of Summoner of Sins

“None at all.” Ironheart turned, his footsteps sounding across the marble floor until he reached the top of the servant’s stairs. It was only then she took a step back, gently tugging from his embrace as she took his hand and led him up the stairs. She didn’t ask him to explain further, she just knew that he needed her tonight.

They arrived at the same time as the tub. Silently they waited for the water and when it was delivered and poured into the large copper bath by the fire, she turned to Max, untying his cravat and removing it from his neck. She took off his jacket, his vest, and his boots. Then, she worked on her garments, taking off her large skirts, undoing the buttons of her dress, and removing her corset. She meant to bathe him, wash the dirt away.

He tugged off the rest of his clothes, and she tried not to focus on making him feel good, sitting on the bed to roll her stockings down her legs, but when he pulled his shirt off, she stopped and stared at the rippling muscles as they came into view. Then, as he pulled down his breeches, the sheer power of his form left her in awe. She swallowed down a lump, unable to move as she drank him in.

“Join me,” he said simply as he crossed to the bath and sunk into the water.

“I’ll just bathe you,” she said, finishing with her stockings and taking off her petticoats so that she was only in her chemise.

She crossed to him, picked up a sponge, and dipped it into the water as she sank to sit on the floor next to the tub. He looked over at her, leaned forward, and captured her lips with his own. Leaning back far enough to look at her, he said, “I want to feel your skin.”

Sophie only hesitated for a second before she stood and stripped the chemise over her head. She wasn’t nearly as embarrassed as she thought she might be. Perhaps it was their connection. Maybe it was the whisky, but she let the garment float to the floor, watching Max’s gaze darken as he dragged it up her body. Then, taking his hand, she sank into the tub. Her back settled against his front, her legs drawing up to her chest so that they’d both fit.

“How am I supposed to wash the dirt off you like this?” Her voice was soft with a sigh as she laid her head on his shoulder.

“I’ll manage,” he murmured into the crown of her hair.

“Are you worried?” she asked, lacing her fingers through his.

“No. I was tonight, but now, with the Queen’s aid, we can leave London without regret.”

“We could stay,” she said. “You have a home here. Work.”

He smiled into her hair. “I’m eager to go if you are. I’ve needed a fresh start for a long time.”

“All right.” She gave a slight nod. “London hasn’t held much promise for me. I’d much rather return to the quiet country life I had.”

“Good. We’re in agreement.” He wrapped his arms tightly around her, rubbing his cheek over the top of her head. “You’ll teach me how to be a good father to Abigail, won’t you? I know I’ll be her brother-in-law, but…”

“You’re right, we’re her parents, and I don’t think I’ll need to teach you much. When you make decisions out of love, the rest is easy.”

He smiled against her head. Then, sliding his hands down her arms, he reached for the sponge and scrubbed his shoulders and face. “I got the worst of it,” he said, dropping the sponge into the water.

She picked it up and partially turned, splashing a great deal of water out of the tub as she washed his chest and torso. When she’d started on his lower stomach, her hand bumped into the hard shaft of his manhood. She stopped, gasping. Sophie had felt its contours the day before, but there in the water, she used her other hand to trace it and give it a light squeeze.

“Woman,” he said, his voice husky. “What are you trying to do to me?”

Nipping at her lip, she met his gaze. “Seduce you.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Sophie noted the hesitation in Max’s eyes. The fact that he cared so much for her well-being made her heart swell, but it also deepened her commitment to give herself to this man. He was everything she’d ever dreamed might be hers. Kind, committed, strong, a protector, a fighter, and…

She kissed him long and slow, her body settling back into the hollow of his as her arms wrapped about his neck.

She felt his resistance for a moment or two, and then he pulled her tighter to his chest, his kiss opening to hers. Max’s tongue swept into her mouth, the water making her skin slide against his. It was erotic and wonderful, and the ache between her legs pulsed with need as his manhood pressed into her hip. So lost in the kiss, she didn’t notice when his hands left her body. She came back to reality when he scrubbed her skin. She pulled back looking into his eyes.

“The water is starting to cool, love,” he answered, his soapy hand sliding over her back and down her legs. Then he circled to the front. She gasped as his hand slid across her chest. He soaped up each of her breasts, her nipples growing into stiff peaks.

Her head fell back as she arched into the touch. Then, she bumped her back against the side of the bathtub. “Oh.” A sheepish giggle fell from her lips.

“We need a larger tub,” Max said, even as he stood, lifting her with him.

The giggle turned to a laugh. “We do.” There was something about the way he said the words. She knew they were to wed, but he was making plans. They’d have a particular tub, but she only had a moment to revel in the satisfaction before he soaped the rest of her, his hands…everywhere. A moan fell from her lips as his fingers danced up her thighs, stopping just before her apex. The ache that had been building throbbed as she arched, inviting him deeper.

Instead, he stood, grabbing her under the armpits and lifting her from the tub.

“What are you doing?”

---