Page 71 of Twice Tempted by a Rogue

Smiling, she turned to face him. He dashed water over her collarbones. Then, with great concentration, he applied a small trickle to each of her breasts in turn. Carefully aiming the stream, he poured water directly over her nipple. Between the chill of the bath and this new stimulation, the round nub puckered tighter than ever. Which was, of course, exactly his hoped-for result.

Still holding the half-empty pitcher at his side, Rhys bent his head and sucked that lovely pink nipple into his mouth. She jolted with surprise, but he slid his free arm around her waist to steady her.

Damn, but he’d been waiting to do this forever. And thanks to her selfless efforts in the bath, now he could take all the time he pleased. Alternating between her breasts, he sucked and licked those delectable buds, pressing his face close to breathe in the fresh, clean scent of her skin.

Curling her fingers around his shoulders, she released a low, breathy moan. And though he’d just experienced a devastating climax not five minutes ago, Rhys felt his loins beginning to stir again.

Reluctantly, he pulled away from her breasts. Her nipples were darker and harder than ever. They looked like a pair of tightly furled rosebuds, glistening with dew. He moved the pitcher over her belly and poured a stream of water straight over her navel. The water quickly overflowed the small depression, channeling down to her pelvis and between her legs.

She gasped and stiffened. Her fingernails bit into his shoulders.

Evidently she’d liked that.

With measured caution, he pressed the pitcher’s curved lip to the top of her mound, just above the triangle of dark curls that concealed her sex. Little by little, he tilted the pitcher forward, until a trickle of water came forth, coursing straight over her intimate flesh.

This time, she cried out.

He tilted the pitcher a bit more, increasing the flow of water. Her hips tilted and she spread her legs, until the tiny stream ran between the folds of her sex. Her throaty sounds of delight echoed off the tiles.

“Does it feel good?” he asked. He knew the answer, but he wanted to hear her say it. Over and over, not just once.

“It feels so …”—she gasped as he tilted the pitcher farther still—“I can’t even describe it.”

His chest swelled with a primitive, male sort of pride. “I’m out of water,” he said, crouching to set the pitcher aside.

“Oh.” Her whimper of disappointment was brief. “Perhaps that’s best. I’m getting cold. I think there are towels in the—”

“Not yet.”

He knelt before her, pressing his mouth to her core.

Chapter Sixteen

Meredith shrieked.

And very nearly fell on her arse. It was a fortunate thing she already had her fingernails hooked into his shoulders like talons. Still, he had to clutch her waist with both hands to keep her from losing her balance completely.

Once he had her steadied, he reapplied himself to his task, caressing her most intimate flesh with his tongue. Gently … so gently, his attentions felt just like the water had. Warm, subtle, unrelenting in their tenderness.

His hands left her waist, sliding down to her sex. Using his thumbs, he carefully parted and spread her feminine folds.

“Rhys.” Her voice tweaked. “I’ve never …”

“Hush. Neither have I.” The words sent huffs of delicious warmth rushing over her skin. “So neither of us will know if I’m doing it wrong.”

He swirled his tongue over the swollen bud of nerves at the crest of her sex, and Meredith nearly lost her footing again.

“Oh,” she said between gasps, “I’m quite certain you’re doing it right.”

No more joking now. He went silent with concentration, exploring her thoroughly with his lips and tongue. Meredith moaned and sighed. She’d never felt pleasure this acute, so intense her bones threatened to melt with it. And it was so, so right that he would be the one to give her this feeling. He’d always been the one man to spark fiery sensations in her, even when she’d been barely more than a girl.

Patiently, with tender care, he worked her closer and closer to release. The muscles in her thighs began to tremble, and the copper tub seemed to undulate beneath her feet.

She cleared her throat. “I …” His tongue flickered over her, and for a moment she lost the power of speech. “Rhys, I don’t know how much longer I can stand.”

He didn’t answer, simply hooked one arm under her thigh, until her leg rested on his shoulder. Then he framed her waist tightly between his arms, supporting her weight.

In this pose, with one leg planted in the inch of remaining bathwater and the other leg thrown over her lover’s shoulder … Meredith felt a bit like a stork. She also felt very much on display. This posture revealed her most intimate places, spreading them wide to his examination and view. He pulled back for a moment, and she could feel him looking at her. Anticipation swirled in her blood, centering between her legs in a rapid, needy pulse.

---