Page 36 of Heart Cradle
He nodded solemnly. “Yes. If we choose it, it would be final. Complete, no going back.”
“And if I say not yet? Or no?”
“Then we stop,” he said without hesitation. “Now, later or never. You can reject it, you choose everything.”
Maeve nodded slowly, then leaned down and kissed his mouth, tasting herself there. “I don’t want to wait,” she said against his lips. “I already feel like I’ve waited too long. This isn’t just the bond. It’s me, I want this. I want you, Eiran.”
His breath hitched.
“Come here, my mate.” She said while pulling him with her back into the water.
He growled low in his throat, and something shifted behind his eyes, something dark and primal. He reached for her hips, lifting her easily as she wrapped her legs around his waist.
Her gaze locked to his. “You’re mine.”
“Good, I’m going to take my time. You’re not just going to be worshipped.” His lips brushed her ear, as he whispered. “You’re going to be claimed.”
He lowered himself into the water, and Maeve moved with him, turning deliberately. Her back against his chest now, flushed skin slick and bare. She sank between his thighs, letting him cradle her body with his. Her head tipped back gently onto his shoulder as she said, “Wash my hair.”
Eiran let out a breath similar to her striking him, then he moved. Reaching for a small carved bottle nearby, uncorking it with teeth, the scent of wild jasmine and soft citrus winding through the steam. He poured a little into his hand and worked it between his palms. He started at her scalp, fingers gentle but firm, stroking through the tangles from days of imprisonment, travel, and stress. His fingertips circled her scalp, slow and methodical and Maeve let out a low sound, something between a sigh and a moan, and finally relaxed fully against him.
“Fuck,” she murmured. “If I’d known you could do this, I might’ve begged sooner.”
Eiran chuckled against her ear, his lips brushing her temple. “You? You never need to beg, but I don’t do this for just anyone, you know.”
“Oh, so I’m special?”
“You have no idea.”
His fingers slid lower, massaging the nape of her neck, then worked down her long, damp hair. He tilted her head slightly, careful and tender, drawing the soap through each length with care. Maeve’s breathing deepened. The heat, his touch, the memory of his mouth, it all had her body humming with something slow and molten.
“I could fall asleep like this,” she murmured.
“Don’t you dare,” Eiran said softly, still combing through her hair. “You’ll miss me paying very close attention to your back.”
“Oh,” she whispered, lips curving. “Is that part of the deluxe package?”
“Your shoulders, your back. Every inch I’ve been dying to get my hands on,” he said, pressing a kiss just below her ear. “The full royal treatment.”
She smiled faintly, but her voice was huskier now. “I don’t want to be a queen.”
“No?” he asked, rinsing her hair, fingers sliding the lather away with soft strokes.
“I just want to be yours.”
The silence that followed stretched, deep, weighted. Eiran’s voice came, quiet and rough against her ear. “You already are.”
His hands slid down her arms, anchoring her as she leaned fully into him. Back flush to his chest, steam cloaking them in warmth. He rinsed the last of the lather from her hair, cupping warm water with his magic and pouring it gently over her scalp, down her back. His touch was delicate, almost divine, as if she were something sacred. She stayed perfectly still, breath soft, trusting him completely. Once he was sure her hair was clean, he tucked the wet strands over one shoulder and lowered his mouth to her neck, pressing a lingering kiss there.
“Would you like a more thorough massage?” he murmured.
Maeve nodded, unable to speak past the tightness in her throat. His hands found her shoulders, thumbs digging gently into the knots beneath her skin. She let out a hum as he worked, slow and steady, his touch easing tension she hadn’t realised she was holding.
“Gods, you’re wound tight,” he said near her ear. “No wonder you’re always picking fights.”
“I don’t pick fights,” she murmured.
“I meant with yourself,” he muttered, and she had no comeback for that.
