Page 34 of Heart Cradle
“I maintain the knotwork was flawless,” he said. “The tree just lacked commitment.”
She laughed again, and Eiran smiled as he moved the cloth gently across her back, letting the warmth between them settle.
“You smell like crushed herbs and danger,” she said.
“You smell like soap and sin.”
“Oh, you like that, do you?”
“Far too much.”
Their eyes met again, and for a moment, time slowed as Maeve reached out and touched his jaw. “You don’t have to be gentle,” she whispered.
“I want to be,” he said, “because you deserve to be. I want to worship, not just touch.”
She stared at him and whispered, “Then worship me.”
Her voice held something between defiance and longing and Eiran didn’t move, his lips parted, but he said nothing. Then she reached up, grabbed his collar, and yanked. Eiran rocked forwards with the surprise, then came the splash as he landed in the water, clothes and all, half-kneeling, soaked from the waist down.
“Lady Maeve!” he said, breathless and grinning, blinking water from his lashes.
“You looked too smug to stay dry,” she said, eyes glittering.
Before she could blink again, he stood. In the time it took her to register the movement, his soaked shirt and leathers were gone. He was gloriously naked.
Maeve’s jaw dropped. “What the fuck?”
Eiran smirked, standing tall as water sluiced down every inch of him, like some divine statue brought to life. “The clothes? Just more intention magic.”
Her heart thudded against her ribs. She wanted to move towards him, she also wanted to bolt. Her body burned, but her mind reeled.
What am I doing?
She was naked in front of him. She’d undressed without hesitation, let him wash her. She never did this, not since they hurt her. Maeve’s breath hitched as her pulse turned sharp.
I don’t do this.
Panic flickered in her chest, tight and fast.
What’s wrong with me? Is this another bathroom breakdown?
She got to her feet and her hands twitched, ready to reach for a towel, to shut it all down, to run. But then she remembered the cell and its silence. The pain of separation, the ache in her ribs when the bond stretched thin. Then she thought of the calm she felt under his hand, how she'd looked at him and known,this wasn’t madness.
It’s trust.
Her pulse began to steady and she swallowed, choosing to stay. He stood there unquestioning, waiting for her lead. Maeve’s cheeks flushed, a sharp, hot pulse now curled low in her, and her thighs clenched before she even realised they had. She was staring, she knew it, he knew it but she couldn’t stop.
“You’re gawping,” he said, quiet but rough.
“So did you,” she murmured. “It’s hard not to.”
Her voice sounded faraway, soft and tentative. She didn’t feel bold, just, confidentas Eiran stepped closer, water rippled between them.
“You’re…” she began, then faltered.
“Say it,” he whispered.
Maeve hesitated, eyes sweeping over him, his chest, his hips, the way water clung to every muscle. He looked honed, more dream than man. “Perfect,” she breathed. “Totally fucking perfect. It’s unfair, you look like a god.”
