Page 94 of Crown of Roses
“There. How was that?” Rowan asked.
“Terrifying.”
He inclined his head. “It shouldn’t be. You moved through the water like you’ve done it before.”
“I have,” she admitted.
“So, you can swim?”
“Yes.” Maeve nodded, then stopped herself. “I mean, no. It’s complicated. I know how to swim. I know the basics. I’ve studied it. And for awhile, I was teaching myself.” Like when she found the Aurastone in the hidden lake within the Moors. “But when the water is used against me, when I see it as a threat, I just…freeze up. I panic. It’s like I forget everything I’ve learned, everything I’ve practiced.”
“We need to break past that barrier.” Rowan led her out further, to where the water rose up over her chest, and her breathing grew labored. “It’s okay, Maeve. I’m right here. Why don’t you show me what you do know?”
“O-okay.” She inhaled through her nose, blew out through her mouth. It was like moving through sand, but she leaned back and allowed her legs and arms to coast on the surface of the faerie pool. She floated, and the warmth of sprinkling sunlight washed over her, bringing her a sense of calm. Of peace.
“Very good.” Rowan’s hand slid to the small of her back, beneath her. The pads of his fingers drifted lazily, back and forth, across her butt.
Maeve quaked with tension. It was wrapped tightly, coiled inside her, ready to spring free.
“Can you tread?” he asked.
“I’ve never been very good at it. I usually sink.” Maeve eased herself up from a floating position, and furiously kicked her legs. Her arms moved through the water like lead, heavy and sluggish. The water came up to her chin, then nose, and she sputtered.
Rowan captured her waist, and hefted her up. “You’re trying too hard. You don’t have to expend so much energy when you kick your legs. Make your movements more languid.”
He demonstrated, moving through the water the way a blade sliced through silk. “And for your arms,” he continued, “cup your hands like this, so you push the water down and away. It helps to keep your head above the water.”
Maeve nodded and tried again. And again, and again. Rowan worked with her on her stroke, so she could cut through the water with more speed. She practiced jumping into his arms at first, and eventually he moved further and further from her reach until she was forced to jump in and swim to him. Her arms were sore, her legs were like putty, and when she grew tired, he shifted her to a back float. She wasn’t sure how many hours passed, but eventually, the sun sank into the western horizon and painted the sky in crimson, fiery pink, and soft orange. At one point, Rowan chased her along the spongy bank, and she would be the first to admit that she didn’t try very hard to escape him. Her feet slid over the soft grass, and his clever grin set her heart racing.
She barely made it back to the tree before he reached her. His muscled arms encircled her, and swept her up off her feet. A shriek peeled from her lips and then he was running and jumping into the water with her in his arms. They surfaced together.
Maeve lifted her face to the fading sunshine, reveled in its beauty, and her laughter filled the air around them. “Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine I’d be swimming naked and playing in a faerie pool.”
Maeve laughed again, and her cheeks started to ache. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d laughed so hard. She wasn’t sure she ever had, as the sound was almost foreign to her. When she looked back to Rowan, her heart lodged itself in the back of her throat. His lavender eyes blazed with an emotion she couldn’t place. Beads of water dripped from his teal hair, slid down his tanned chest. He stood still, completely unmoving, with his broad shoulders set and his arms locked into place beside him.
She shoved her wet curls from her face and dared to speak, worried she’d break the spell around them. Worried she’d shatter the moment. But Rowan’s expression was so solemn, so…intense, she couldn’t let silence dictate their fate. “What is it?”
His jaw ticked. “You laughed.”
“I did.” A blush bled into her cheeks. It heated her skin, expanded across her chest.
The water seemed to move for him, to bring him closer to her. “I’ve never heard you laugh before.”
“Not many have.” Maeve held the heat of his stare. “I almost forgot what it sounded like.”
“I’ll never forget it.”
“Rowan…”
He snared her waist and crushed her against him. His mouth slid over hers in a wet, succulent kiss. Their tongues clashed, exploring and tasting, wanting all of what the other had to offer. His hands roamed freely over her, and every touch was like fire and ice. Heat from his skin. The cool sensation of the water. Cupping her breasts, his thumbs drew lazy circles around her nipples. A whimper escaped her, and she entwined her arms around his neck dragging him closer to her. It was then she felt him. The full, pulsing flesh of him. His erection pressed against her belly, rigid and firm. She wanted to look. To touch.
“I can hear your mind working,” he murmured, his voice a balm. “What are you thinking about?”
Maeve shook her head. “I just…I don’t want to think anymore.”
“That can be arranged.”
His hands captured her wrists, lifting them up over her head. Droplets of water rained down on them like diamonds. He maneuvered her into a twirl, a dance, spinning her just enough so she faced away from him. Anticipation stole through her in the form of ragged breaths and clenched thighs. In one motion, Rowan lowered their arms and tugged her back toward him, so her backside was pressed firmly against his chest. His fingers found their way to her neck, tilting her head just slightly to gain access to her throat. Hot lips scorched her skin, searing her with kisses from her ear to her shoulder, and her head fell back against him. Rowan held her there. Marking her. Branding her with his mouth.
