Page 13 of Reckless in Ruins

I know Uther’s words came out rougher than intended. Fortunately, I am who I am, and I take this in stride.

I am in Uther’s chamber, where he ordered me to be. I waited for hours, so yes, I did bathe. And now, I’m perched on the edge of his deep-soak tub in his private quarters in the palace.

I answer with a teasing smile. “I didn’t think you were serious about that,” I say.

Cranking off the running water that fills the tub with steaming, rose-scented bubbles, I look up to find a completely naked Uther standing in the doorway.

My breath catches in my throat. I’m not prepared for all of this. The barrel chest, tattooed arms, soft swirls of hair across his pecs. So much to stare at. So much to enjoy. Just…so much.

Uther’s cock, dark pink and veiny, stands at full mast as he watches me.

My mouth salivates.

“I should put you over my knee. I meant it when I said I could have you in front of a judge by lunchtime.”

My half-smile expands to a full megawatt grin. “Or you could say, ‘Thank you, Sable, for drawing me a bath.’”

His gaze darts downward to the split in my satiny robe.

He says nothing further but approaches me with a slow swagger, a wicked glint in his eyes. My nipples tighten.

Am I going to let him reach down and untie my robe? Apparently so.

Will I just sit here and let him push my robe open, let his eyes worship my breasts like he owns me?

Yes. Looks like I’ll be doing that, too.

The robe falls away, held up around my waist by the small ties there. I must look ridiculous, but I don’t have time to think about that as Uther takes what’s his. His rough hands warm my breasts as he takes two overflowing handfuls. I swallow hard, willing myself not to grab him and plunge his face between my legs once again.

He kneels in front of me, massaging my breasts, sweeping his calloused thumbs over my sensitive nipples. I bite down on my lip.

“Thank you, little poppy.”

The nickname sparks a primal desire that begins behind my navel. It builds when he lowers his head and takes one nipple into that wicked mouth. And when he sucks in long, decadent pulls, I feel as if I might slide off the edge of the tub.

I nearly come apart when he scrapes his teeth over that sensitive bud. This is so much. So fast. As much as I love it, there are things to be discussed.

“Uther,” I breathe.

He pops one nipple out of his mouth and ravishes the opposite one. So slowly. So the opposite of the hurried rutting we did earlier today.

The man takes his time, worshiping my body. So much time that I’m trembling with need in his arms. I thread my fingers through his damp locks.

“Look at you,” he croons. “All for me.”

“Wouldn’t it be a shame to waste these bubbles?”

I’ve unlocked something in the silent minder. Something deep and wild and unhinged. With a look of pure mischief, Uther steps over me and sinks down into the tub. I smile at the picture of this brutish-looking man covered in pink bubbles. Before I can comprehend what’s happening, Uther reaches forward and tugs loose the ties at my waist. My satin robe cascades to the floor, but I don’t protest.

Neither do I complain when he lifts me into the tub as if I weigh nothing, sending waves of hot water and sprays of pink bubbles flying over the rim onto the slate floor.

He holds me against his chest, warm and wet.

“Smells like you,” he says.

I smile against the soft fur and run my thumb over his nipple. “It’s my signature perfume-scented bubble bath. Sorry if it smells girly, I couldn’t find anything in your room that was suitable.”

“It smells like you. If anyone has a problem with me smelling like you, I don’t care.”

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