Page 54 of The Beast of Ashwood Manor

No, what if he really didn’t mean for me to bathe with him? What if I took this all the wrong way? He could have just wanted help.

Placing my hands on the sides, I began to lift myself up out of the tub, but when the door opened, I sank back down and covered myself, afraid it would be anyone but him.

Gil came inside, his cloak gone, and shut the door. When he noticed me cowering low in the tub, he cocked his head and looked down at my body. “Why are you covering up?”

“I . . . thought you were someone else,” I answered. “And then I wondered if you meant for me to get into the tub with you at all.”

“Yes.” Gil unbuttoned his shirt, and when he took it off, my eyes darted to the defined muscles in his arms, then to his toned chest. There were several scars on his body, mainly lines, as if he’d been scratched by wild animals.

I felt myself react and looked away.

He took off his boots and his trousers, and he came up behind the tub. “Scoot up,” he told me.

I did as he said and made room for him to climb in behind me.

When his hands grabbed my shoulders and pulled me back, goosebumps covered my arms. He pressed my back against his chest, and I relaxed against him, letting out a soft sigh as I realized he was no longer tense or angry like before.

He used one hand to turn my head slightly to the side, and he kissed my lower jaw from behind. I closed my eyes, liking the feel of his warm lips on my skin.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered against me. “For taking so long. Sometimes, I become overwhelmed in my head. I hope I didn’t hurt you a while ago.”

“You didn’t.” I shifted to look back at him, and he kissed my lips. “I was worried. I wanted to make sure you were all right.”

His eyes drifted down into the water, where I still covered myself. “Do you intend to keep doing that, or do I have to remove your hands myself?”

Smiling, I moved my hands away, and he immediately took my hard cock in his hand. I leaned my head back against his shoulder as he moved his hand up and down on me. It felt so good that I thrusted my hips. I turned my head and kissed his neck, and when he sped up, I moaned softly.

“Such a sweet voice.” Gil’s breath was hot against my ear as he took my earlobe between his teeth. “It’s all I could think about all day. Those things out in that forest, they’re a fucking inconvenience to what I wanted to do to you.”

His words made my stomach burn with pleasure, and I grabbed his free hand in the water and brought it up to my chest.

“Come here.” Gil pushed me forward and turned me around.

When I sat in his lap and faced him, his arms wound around me. He kissed up my chest and along my neck, then his fingers found the hole between my crease, and he rubbed it lightly.

I gasped, and he looked up at me.

“Want me to stop?” he asked.

I shook my head. “No. I like to do it to myself.”

He licked his lips and smiled crookedly. “Then I’ll have to fuck you with my fingers until you spill. If you want me to.”

I nodded. “Yes.” I winced as he pushed his finger slowly inside, the sensation burning at first, but as he moved it around, I exhaled and moved against it.

Our kiss was just how it was in the stairwell, sloppy and rushed, full of a neediness that craved more than what we were doing to satisfy the fire within us, and I found I liked this rough, filthy-mouthed side of him. The feel of his cock against mine and his finger inside me was so good that I hooked my arms around his neck and panted against him.

He took one of my nipples into his mouth and sucked it, and my stomach tightened as I was barely able to hold it in. And then I imagined his finger replaced with his cock, and it was nearly my downfall.

“Gil, I can’t,” I whimpered. “Please, you have to stop.”

“Or what?” he asked in a husky voice.

“I . . . I’ll spill, and I don’t want to yet.”

His mouth tugged up. Licking his lips, he pressed them back to my nipple again, curling his finger inside me while his other hand fondled me.

I won’t last with him doing this.

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