Page 54 of Theirs to Possess: The Marriage Claim
The warmth soothes my tender flesh, and with a sigh, I lean into him.
“That’s it,” he says, cupping my nape with his free hand. “Let us take care of you.” His movements intentional, he rinses every trace of their claiming.
Every part, that is, except for the internal one, and more, the emotional one.
Tonight they changed me forever.
Brennan pumps some of the body wash onto his palm and lathers it before kneeling in front of me. “Stay as you are.” His voice holds a caring note that’s new. And totally seductive.
He runs his slick palms up my thighs, washing me with steady strokes. His fingers graze my folds, tender but thorough.
My knees wobble a little.
“You’re incredible, Isla,” he murmurs, looking up, his gaze locking on mine.
Dorian joins in, soaps my back, gliding over my spine where he marked me. With careful circles, he washes it away. “You really are perfect for us.” With that, he presses a kiss against my shoulders.
He continues to stream the water over my breasts, and he angles the showerhead there, teasing my nipples with thepulse. They harden, and I moan, caught off guard by my instant response.
Brennan stands to soap my stomach and chest. Then Dorian sprays off the lather.
Once they are finally finished, Brennan stands and rinses his hands.
He steps out first and wraps a towel around his waist before grabbing a second and holding it out.
“Come here,” he instructs.
As if my legs are made of lead, I do as he says.
He’s there for me, drying my arms, my back, and ending by patting gently between my legs.
“You’ve pleased us both very much.”
He wraps the thick cotton around me. Then he sweeps me from my feet and carries me back to the bed where he brushes back a strand of my damp hair.
For a moment, my heart catches.
Right now, I see him as something more than a criminal. A lover, maybe. A man who has treated me as if I matter.
I can’t be softening toward him.Can I?
Whatever I’m feeling right now is real. But fragile.
He leaves for a minute, then returns with a glass of champagne. I accept, more to give myself something to do than anything else.
As he considers me, I take a little sip, and the bubbles tickle my nose.
“You like it?”
I think it’s the same kind of champagne that we had at the reception. “My new favorite. I wish I knew what it is.”
“You’re in luck.” Brennan flashes me a grin and names the brand and year. “Snatched a bottle from the reception. Dorian paid for it, and I figured you’d enjoy it more than those heathens who were still drinking like fish.”
He can’t mean that Dorian paid for the wedding, right?He’s referring to the champagne, surely. Because I understood my father took out a second mortgage to pay for everything.
The air conditioner kicks on, and I shiver. Then it occurs to me that I have no pajamas. “Do I get something to sleep in?”
“No,” Dorian responds on Brennan’s behalf as he walks in, naked.
