Page 69 of The Cursed and the Broken
He shuddered. Actually shuddered! “For the love of Istenanya, I swear I will take you against that wall right now.”
Pouting, I ran a finger along his chest, then dropped it with a shrug. His desire strained against his pants. “If you can’t control your urges, I’ll be forced to believe you’re not worth the effort.”
He pulled me out of the tub and pushed me against the far wall, running a tongue over my lips, sinking his teeth in just hard enough to hurt as he kissed me. The pain sent a thrill to the juncture of my legs and I crashed my lips against his own.
Pulling back, he whispered against my ear, “Before I’m done, you’ll be begging me to give you release.”
My body betrayed me, shivering beneath his touch. Damn it all. My breasts felt heavy, my nipples scraping against the silky shift. I wanted him to rip it from me, to taste me, be inside me.
Scuffling steps broke us apart and I flattened against the wall, covering my modesty with my arms, trying to sink in on myself.
Dante leaned casually against the bench, lips smirking between every bite. I grabbed a bowl of porridge and wolfed down the now cold contents, if only to give myself something else to focus on instead of the need still thrumming through me.
It was my turn to laugh when the women advanced. “My lord,” they giggled as they dragged him into the tub, dumping the cold water over his head. Blood sluiced down the drain and I cackled at his bemused expression. His hair hung limp over his face and his arms trembled at his sides.Who’s the drowned rat now?I thought gleefully.
One maid popped the stopper in the tub and they all began pouring their buckets into the now clean surface, taking a couple trips to fill it until marching out like soldiers once done. All the while, Dante’s eyes never left my body as he consumed his breakfast without a care in the world.
He grinned through a mop of hair, but when the last maid had filed out, we stood staring at each other, each having eaten our fill. A different hunger filled our bellies.
“Take them off,” I commanded, pointing at his pants.
He obliged, fingers working at the leather ties before he stepped one foot then the other out of the sodden slacks. I clenched my jaw to avoid gaping at his length. The sheer size of him, even after being drenched with cold water.
“Come here.” His voice brooked no room for argument and, dreamily, I stepped into the tub, drawn by his magnetism. His fingers clutched the bottom of my shift, peeling it up, up, up until it caught on my breasts. I laughed nervously, then squeaked as I felt his lips press against one puckered nipple then the other.
The shift tugged free as I wriggled out of it. It took a moment to register I was once again naked before him, but it felt different this time. My lips trembled as I gazed at him, suddenly feeling self-conscious. We’d shared a connection last night—something that had bound our bodies through magic.
He’d touched my very soul. What had he found there? I wrapped my arms around my breasts again, tilting my head away.
“Don’t shy from me,” he said softly, placing a hand on my cheek and gently shifting my gaze to his own. “You never need to hide from me, Kitarni. You are beautiful, inside and out. And you are mine.”
His lips swept down on my own, bruising with need, claiming me as he so suggested. Warmth flooded through me at hearing those words—the conviction in them. I clasped my hands over his own and we sank into the water.
Still shivering from being soaked earlier, I hadn’t noticed how cold it was, but as my bottom touched the surface, I yelped. Dante laughed and I couldn’t help but grin too. “Why don’t we see about this temperature?” Conjuring my flames, I plunged my hand into the bath, heating the water until it was pleasant. “Much better.”
He submerged himself in the water—which only just covered his hips—and groaned as he rotated his shoulder blades, leaning against the tub. “You, my dear, are a saint. Witches don’t get nearly enough credit.”
That we could agree on. Sighing, I settled into the bath, welcoming the heat as it warmed my bones, sapping the tiredness from my body. He prowled closer, tugging my ankle until I sat before him and curled my legs around his waist. “I could think of ways you might show your gratitude.”
He rumbled his agreement against my shoulder, planting kisses across my collarbone, down my chest and to each breast. I arched my back, leaning into his touch. His tongue flicked over my nipples, a hand snaking down to my centre. I gasped as his fingers circled over me.
A sigh escaped my lips and I closed my eyes, grinding against his touch … until it stopped. He laughed as I scrunched my nose up. “I said I’d worship you, Freckles, and I plan to cover every inch. But you have to be patient.”
Snapping my eyes open, I frowned at his smirk. He was enjoying this immensely. Ignoring my protests, he swiped a bottle of oil and a comb from the tub’s edge. The maids must have left it in their wake. The scent of lavender washed over me as he rubbed the oil in his hands, working it into a lather before slathering it over my arms, my breasts, my shoulders. Coiling my hair over one shoulder, he worked the muscles in my neck, kneading out the knots that had formed over the last few days.
I groaned as his fingers threaded into my hair, massaging my scalp. “I feel like I haven’t bathed in weeks,” I sighed.
“You smelled like it too,” he chuckled.
I elbowed him in the ribs and he snatched both of my hands, lifting them up to clasp around the back of his neck. His palms wandered down my chest, cupping the swell of each breast before sinking beneath the water. I felt his desire press against my back and parted my lips as his fingers slid inside me.
I squirmed beneath his touch, heat flushing my skin, need rising until I was breathless and moaning. “So impatient,” he whispered in my ear, shuffling my body around so he could access me easier.
His pace quickened to a crescendo, my breasts heaving with every breath, my back arching further still as I leaned into his touch, riding his fingers. I’d thought the water would dull the sensation but my desire for him went beyond simple lust. Heat and dizzying pleasure flooded my body in waves as I climaxed and he groaned as I shifted, clamping down on his thighs, needing something to ground me.
When the pleasure ebbed, I shuffled to face him, a hungry smile on my face. “Your turn.”
I started slow, rubbing the soap over the broadness of his chest, the muscled ridges and the smoothness of his stomach. He bent his head so I could reach his hair and the dark locks turned glossy as I ran my fingertips over his scalp and down each strand.
