My upper arms, forearms, even my hands before refilling his hands to start at my stomach. He glided over the dips of my waist to the curve of my ribs until he filled his hands with my breasts.
My head dropped back as the warm oil soothed and excited at the same time.
He rolled my nipples until they were hard and aching before suddenly turning me around, pushing my hair over my shoulder.
Off balanced, I swayed against him, feeling how hard he was against my ass.
But he kept on going. Dripping the oil on my back to rub endless circles over my shoulder blades and lower back until I was putty.
Then his hands slid back around to my front, drawing me back against his chest.
“So soft. So sensitive.” He cupped my breasts, lifting them then tugging each tip until I cried out. “I never tire of touching you, Duchess.”
“You make me feel crazy.”
“Makes two of us.” He brushed his nose along my neck. “I was afraid you were gone again.”
“No. I’m not going anywhere.” Yet.
Always yet.
One hand slid down to my belly again, this time he didn’t stop there and delved lower. “Wet for me?”
I shuddered. Of course I was.
When wasn’t I when it came to him?
“Ahh, there you are.” He slipped two fingers in me, and I sighed.
Not quite the fullness I needed, but so good.
And in the quiet of the bathroom with nothing but our breaths he pushed me into a soft, weightless orgasm. For once I didn’t worry. I just let him hold me and destroy me at the same time.
When I came back to myself, his husky words were in my ear.
“My Duchess.”
And I wished it were so.
I turned in his arms, holding onto him.
“Hey, what’s this?”
I shook my head and just pushed my face into his neck. The sandalwood warm scent of him evened me out. I eased back, looking up at him.
“What’s got you so…sad isn’t the word.” He lifted a hand to my face, cupping my cheek. “What’s going on, Syd?”
I opened my mouth.
What was I supposed to tell him?
I’m here to ruin everything. I’m supposed to find a way to bring Jude home or everyone I actually care about will be out of a job and blacklisted by my mother?
She didn’t say that—but she didn’t have to.
There would be no second chances for my team if I failed.
My phone trilled out a ringtone that drained the last of the pleasure out of me.