Page 128 of A Reign of Roses
“Lazarus has never had real allies. For too long I thought that coldness was his strength. But each of you…you’ve shown me what it means to fight with more than vengeance. That nobody can triumph alone. That’s why Lazarus won’t win.” Kane looked back down to me. “And why we must.”
35
Arwen
Water sloshed over the lipof the tub as I leaned back into Kane’s chest. I reached for a towel to blot the sudsy puddle on the stone floor, but Kane pulled me back.
“Leave it,” he ordered gently, drawing me into him as more water spilled and more steam curled through our washroom. We sighed in unison as my back met his muscled torso, his powerful thighs spread around me.
“It had been such a nice dinner,” I said quietly.
Kane hummed his agreement, stroking idle fingers through my wet hair. The water was just shy of too hot, and each muscle in my body relaxed with the generous feel of it.
Two fat waxy candles lit our bath in dim violet light, flickering from the moisture in the air. That flicker reflected the swirling, soapy water against dark walls. Lavender and jasmine soap filled my nose. Moonlight filtered in from the closed window, dulled by snowfall, and cast Kane’s long legs in silver slants.
“I’m sorry,” he said after a long while, that broad hand stillmoving softly through my hair and at my temples. I hadn’t realized I’d closed my eyes.
“What for?” I murmured.
“Everything. That we have so little time together. So little joy. Not even one dinner.”
My throat tightened and I shut my eyes tighter. “Let’s feel joy right now.”
Kane hummed again.
In this moment, we were together. Not joyful, admittedly, but we had some sort of resigned peace shared between us. A bare, honest intimacy.
We had to appreciate these moments before they were snatched from our grasp. It was like Kane had said—the love we all shared was what made us strong. We couldn’t let moments like these pass us by when we had so few left. I fished through the water for Kane’s hand and threaded it through my own, placing it atop my chest.
Kane’s thumb rubbed lazily across my skin until he grazed my nipple. The bud tightened with the simple, tranquil touch.
“So,” Kane said, his voice a little devious. “You think Hart Renwick is gorgeous?”
I barked out a laugh. Clearly, the word had been lingering around in his mind all evening. “Did I say gorgeous?”
Kane’s thumb continued its soft strokes. His other hand skated casually down my arm, pebbling the flesh despite being submerged in hot water. His cock hardened, pressing against my back. “You did.”
“Look who’s jealous now,” I purred, letting my fingers drift across his thighs, grazing the fine hairs there.
“Yes.” I could hear the unapologetic envy in that deep voice. “And you’ve all but conquered that, haven’t you?”
It was true—that voice in my head that told me I wasn’t enough had become more of a pest than a mantra. “Maybe I should be rewarded,” I said, arching my body up so that his fingers floated closer to my stomach.
“Perhaps so.” His voice did riotous things to me. “What is it you’d like, bird?”
His fingers traced across my inner thighs, along my lips and my entrance, but no matter how I spread my legs, how I arched up into him, he avoided any meaningful contact.
I sighed, my fingernails scraping against his thigh in frustration.
He hummed in satisfaction, grazing a thumb across that sensitive bundle of nerves and eliciting a choked breath from me. “How will I know if you don’t tell me…”
Kane pressed a single finger firmly between my legs. When he found proof of my near-painful desire, even in the water, he growled against my neck and held my breast in his other hand, squeezing softly until I whimpered. “And yet, you’re terribly needy, aren’t you?”
My head nearly jerked into Kane’s chin with my nod. The heat from the water, the flush of my cheeks—I was feverish with how badly I wanted him.
Kane pressed his finger inside just an inch. Less than that.
And Imewled.
