Page 61 of Gilded Locks
The hard muscles of his abdomen pressed into her sticky belly as he made a feast of her. Sucking. Licking. Marking her. Playfully nibbling and biting her.
It went on so long, he stirred something inside of her, soft and light, like a summer breeze whispering through trees. The delicate ripple of deep pleasure built into a gasp.
“Yes, printessa, give in to it.” It may have been a command, but he spoke so softly it sounded like a plea and she shattered. “Beautiful.”
Stunned that anyone could do that to her by only touching her breasts, she stared at him. He bent and kissed the sensitive tip of her breast, tasting the salt of her fevered skin as she arched beneath him. “This is the part where you rest in my arms, trusting me to hold you safe.”
The son of a bitch played her. She couldn’t even hate him for it, because in the end, he held her like she needed to be held, and his gentleness overshadowed the painful lesson. She needed someone she could trust. It was the only way she would survive this place when some days she wasn’t even sure she could survive herself.
She leaned into him, showing him the trust she was still unable to verbalize.
Ash grinned, clearly pleased with himself, and pulled her tighter against him. He didn’t just tend to her body. He anchored her mind. Preventing the drop that could turn submission into shame, and pleasure into regret.
“I’ll never touch you in a way that leaves you hurting.” He pressed a hand to her heart. “A sore ass, perhaps, but I’ll never hurt you here.”
She nestled into his strength, relishing the promise, pretending for a twisted moment it might be one he’d keep. “Thank you.”
He sighed and kissed her head, rather than question if her gratitude meant she was learning to trust him. She was going to need time. Time to recover from past betrayals and time to see if he would truly keep his word.
Of the three men, Ash was the first to give her kindness. If it was truly genuine, she wanted to give him something in return. But he was tricky. He didn’t want her pain, or pleasure, or complete surrender like Stone. He wanted the intangible and sacred—her trust.
Where Stone abandoned her out of frustration, Ash held her through a storm. Without this bridge back to herself, Stone’s gift, her unburdening, felt like theft. But Ash put her back together again.
“You’re not like the others,” she whispered, regretting her earlier accusation.
He stilled then pressed another gentle kiss to her head. “Rest now,” he whispered, pulling her tighter into his side.
Safety.
Her eyes drifted closed, exhaustion pulling her under like a riptide. But this time, she didn’t overthink it. Didn’t fear it. Because she was cradled from the wreckage, safe in Ash’s arms.
Chapter 13
A Temptation to Tame
Marigold awoke in a different bed in a different room, disoriented and confused. Layers of fur blankets weighed her down. She sat up, hair falling over her shoulder as she looked around.
Alone. Finally.
She studied the room, but didn’t recognize the space. The furniture lacked the luxurious, masculine feel of the other bedrooms. Instead, this one had a feminine air to it. Exposed ceilings with pale honey planks and dark beams formed a star overhead, a beautiful contrast to the crystal chandelier hanging from the center over the king-sized bed. But this was no ordinary bed one could purchase online. The posts were raw birch, knotted and twisting upward, a natural work of art that made Marigold feel like she was waking up in a mystical fairytale.
Her nose twitched. The room might look like a fairytale, but she smelled like a bridge troll. Slipping out of bed, she quickly rushed to the door she hoped was a bathroom before someone noticed her nude form sprinting across one of the surveillance cameras. She was sure there were several hidden in the room. Otherwise, they would have never left her alone.
The door indeed hid a bathroom, equally feminine as the bedroom with a claw-footed antique tub, and a vintage dressing table facing an ornate oval mirror.
“Perfect.”
She set the faucet to warm and let the tub fill as she nosed around for toiletries. To her surprise, the drawers were stocked with unopened products. Female products.
Was that a twinge of…jealousy?
No, she couldn’t be jealous.
What did she care if other women had stayed here? However, the uncomfortable pinch persisted, evoking a sense of petty suspicion towards the females who might have stared in this mirror before.
She withdrew several unopened bottles and a packaged toothbrush. As the tub filled, the bathroom warmed and she doctored the water with oils and salts. The moment she sank into the warm bath, she moaned.
“Yessss….” She allowed herself several minutes to simply soak and take in the lavishness of the stunning room.
