Page 48 of Ruthless Scoundrel
“Then let’s not talk at all. Silence is better than what comes out of your mouth,” she grouses, paddling harder.
You love at least one thing that comes out of my mouth,I think, andbarelymanage to keep in my head. Reina must recognize my smirk, or some other thing that gives me away.
“You’re vile,” she says, then paddles harder still.
“I didn’t say anything.”
“It’s what’s in your head.”
“How do you know what’s in my head?” I ask, glancing over at her.
She growls. “I could see it on your face!”
“See what, princess?”
Her cheeks are bright red. “Something about your tongue.”
Another laugh bursts from me. She does know me already.
“See, I wasn’t wrong,” she says, and I notice a little smile she’s trying to hide.
We paddle on, and after an hour of fighting the waves of the shallows, I call for us to stop. Reina sits down on the edge of the raft, then rolls her shoulders and her neck, wincing at the gesture.
“May I?” I ask, holding my hands up toward her sore muscles.
She grimaces, sighs, then nods. Ah, all the stages of her brat surrendering. I love to see it.
I start light, squeezing the muscles in her shoulder near her neck. Reina hums, but it’s not the deep, guttural moan of satisfaction I desire. I work my way down her back, and when I reach the middle, right next to her shoulder blade, she groans, “Right there.”
I work the tight muscle, and she relaxes into my touch, making more of those wonderful noises. The sound of her painful pleasure sends fire coasting up my arms into my gut. I shouldn’t take enjoyment from it. I know Iwouldn’tif I wasn’t still in Heat. Fucking selkie anatomy.
“Gods,” she whispers. “I didn’t know.”
My voice comes out in a hoarse whisper. “What didn’t you know?”
“How good touch could feel.” She inhales deeply and her bunched muscles loosen further.
“You don’t get daily massages from your palace slaves?” I ask.
“There are noslavesin the palace,” she bites out, and then sighs. “Even if there were massage slaves, I’m not allowed to be touched.”
I keep my hands moving rhythmically through the shock. Not only had she never orgasmed, but she’d never even been touched in a non-intimate way. In a healing way. I scowl, trying not to think of how lonely that sounds.
Then I remember the way her skin glowed when her mother’s guard grabbed her arm in the palace. She’d burned him. Perhaps that’s the reason for the no-touching rule.
“So, who helped get you in that fine dress you wore to the wedding reception?” I taunt, trying to bring levity back to the situation.
Reina’s body tenses as she sits up straighter. “Alyse,” she whispers, her voice pained.
An ache blooms in my stomach. I slide my hand up to the back of her neck and grip her softly, securely. “She may yet live.”
“I’m fine now, thank you.” Her voice is somber, and she pulls away from me. “We should keep going.”
The urge to wrap her in my arms is almost overwhelming. Instead, I pick up my paddle and stroke through the water harder than before. I work myself to a heavy sweat and punish the waves with Reina’s anguish, wishing it was the queen I was carving through and not the sea.
The sandy beach gives way to towering cliffs when we reach the northwest end of the island. The rocks are coated in snaking vines and thick green plants that enjoy the softer winds on this side. Between the roots that so stubbornly burrow into the rock, I can see flecks of copper, gold, and even diamonds.
We break and I drag my fingers through the water to send a detecting pulse out. My magic returns with a highly detailed layout of what’s within a few meters of us, and a vague representation of what’s beyond. I sense the piers, two of them, and larger boats just around the next cliff’s edge.
