Page 59 of Caged in Desire
Chapter twenty-eight
The relief I feel as we walk through the door is unmatched.Home.It’s an interesting feeling. While we were gone, visiting the estate where I spent my first nineteen years of life, I spent the entire time longing for the house I’ve lived in for barely two months. It’s also an interesting feeling to leave there knowing that I have no place there anymore, regardless. Since my father’s passing, it's Uncle Ivan’s now. Until Sasha inherits, I might as well be an outsider. Especially after Henry’s profound threats.
I realized days ago that my husband loves me. It wouldn’t have taken a genius to figure out how he feels. He says those three words every time he goes out of his way to tend to my every whim, or when he touches and kisses me with such passion it lights my body on fire. Or when he looks so deeply into my eyes that I think he’s found my actual soul.
Of course, hearing him say them out loud was incredible. Especially hearing him declare his love for me to someone else. If any doubt in my mind existed about his devotion to me, it’s long gone after hearing him threaten my uncle. I know I’ve always had Sasha on my side, but I’ve never had someone carefor me to the degree Henry does. Someone who would face the world if it meant my happiness. Someone who hasn’t stopped touching me since I told him I loved him too.
Turning in Henry’s arm, I raise to my tiptoes and wrap my hands around his neck, pulling him down to meet me in a kiss.
“Henry, I need to shower,” I say, but he doesn’t let me go, just stands there looking down at me like if he blinks I’ll disappear. “Did you hear me, Henry? I need to—”
“Yes, I heard you,” he interrupts. “We can go shower.”
“We? Ahh!” In a flash, he scoops me up bridal style in his arms and makes his way to our bathroom.
When he gets to the shower, he pauses, his attention alternating between me, the shower, and the bath, before setting me down on the counter. “Are you sure you don’t want me to run you a warm bath, Kitten?” he asks, rubbing his hands up and down my arms as he searches my eyes like he will find the answer there.
“What would you prefer? Shower or bath?” I ask, letting my hands rest on his chest, reveling in the way I can feel his heart beating. “Honestly, if you could pick, which one would it be?”
He finally gives in with a sigh. “Truthfully? A shower, just so I can get you in our bed faster.” He tries to give me one of his smirks, but it comes out as a weak imitation after the emotional roller coaster of today.
“Shower it is, then!” I say, hopping off the counter and squeezing past him to get the water turned on and the temperature set. I make quick work of shimmying out of my clothes, then turn back to Henry in just my matching bra and panties. I almost swoon seeing him leaning casually against the counter, looking at me like I’m a piece of meat.
His hair is disheveled in that way it always is when he’s been running his hands through it. I can’t help myself from reachingup to do the same, pulling a groan from him when I start massaging his scalp.
The longer I spend playing with his hair, the more I start to realize how little my husband is ever taken care of. He looks out for everyone he cares about without question, giving everything of himself for those he loves. And he never requests anything in return. I’m sure it’s partly because of how proud he is, putting on a front for everyone that he’s got everything under control. He’s spent the better part of his life perfecting his facade. And while he’s obviously inclined toward caring for others, he deserves to receive it in return.
He groans in protest when I move my hands from his hair to start unbuttoning his shirt. I half expect him to grumble, but he doesn't say a word the whole time, just meets my gaze as I undress him. Pulling his shirt off, I run my hands from his broad chest to the band of his pants, then drop to my knees before working on his belt.
His dick is half hard by the time I’ve freed him of his clothes, and I place a gentle kiss to the tip, causing him to growl my name in a warning I heed. Before he can toss me over his shoulder like the caveman I know he is, I step back, removing the rest of my clothes and checking the water.
“Just right,” I say with my hand held out in invitation.
He follows, shutting the door behind him, and stares down at me, as if he’s waiting for my instruction. “Um, can you sit?” I ask, pointing toward the built-in bench. “I don’tmindhaving to climb to reach your head, but it would be a lot easier if you just sat down.”
He arches his brow but ultimately follows my instruction, taking a seat and looking at me for further directions. All I wanted to do was wash my husband, but I’m frozen in place as I look down at where he’s manspreading, legs out wide with his cock lying heavily on his thigh. I can tell the moment henotices my ogling. He winks, then leans down with his forearms propped on his knees to look up at me, waiting.
I make quick work of lathering myself up, enjoying the way his erection grows as he watches me. I’m not sure what he was expecting, but sudsing up my hands with his soap seems to confuse him. “Were you expecting a lap dance?” I ask as I begin washing him, starting with his shoulders and working my way down.
“Erm, well, I’ve had a woman in my lap more times than I’ve had a woman washing me,” he says, pausing to chuckle when I narrow my eyes at him. “Don’t worry, Kitten. Both of those are from you and you alone.”
I dip my head to hide the smile forming on my face, and continue washing, taking extra care to tease around his private bits for payback.
I’ve barely finished when I’m being pulled up from where I’m kneeling between his legs. He lifts me around effortlessly, placing me on his lap. “Kiss me,” he says, pulling my face to his.
“Wait!” I protest, trying and failing to resist him. “I was going to wash your hair!”
With his hand still around my head, he rests his brow against mine, “Kiss me, Katarina,” he says, his voice barely a whisper.
I don’t hesitate this time. Holding his face in my hands, I bring my lips to his. The passion in his kiss doesn’t escalate. Instead, it’s slow and steady, as if we have forever. And I suppose we do.
I’m so lost in the kiss I don’t even realize we’ve left the shower until he’s laying me gently on the edge of the bed. When he finally breaks our connection, I scoot myself back, allowing him room to join.
I’m propped up on my elbows as he crawls between my legs. Grabbing one of my ankles, he begins peppering a series of kisses up my calf, pausing as he reaches my knee.
“My love, you astonish me,” he says as he places my leg around his waist before closing the distance between us.
I have no choice but to fall back on the mattress as he climbs on top of me, his hands caging my face as he looks down at me. My arms instinctively wrap around his neck as we stare into each other's eyes.
