8. Layla
8
LAYLA
“Please.” I thread my fingers through Kaden’s wet hair as he kneels before me in the shower. “It’s been so long. Make me feel something else. Something that's just us.”
He presses his forehead against my pelvis, breathing hard. “This isn't why I?—”
“I know.”
And I do. He wanted to wash away cruelty and nothing more. “But I need you.”
His grip tightens, but his forehead still rests against me like I'm something precious.
“You deserve better than this,” he says as water pools at his collarbone. “Better than a desperate fuck in a gilded cage.”
“I deserve you,” I tell him, my voice unwavering despite the slight tremor in my fingers when I lay them on his shoulders. “I deserve this moment with you, no matter where we are.”
Slowly, deliberately, he turns his head and presses a searing kiss to the inside of my thigh.
In response, I guide his hand between my legs and push his fingers between my folds, wet for him well before we entered the shower’s rainfall.
With a groan, Kaden takes control, delving deeper. I whimper at the first electric touch against my aching clit, my head falling back.
He strokes me with devastating precision, winding me tighter and tighter at the base of my spine.
“Fuck,” he curses, his breath hot against my skin. “I'm not supposed to want this right now.”
My fingers tighten in his hair as his mouth replaces his fingers, his tongue flicking over my sensitive flesh with maddening skill. Pleasure coils tighter, my thighs trembling against his shoulders.
“You're allowed to want,” I manage to gasp out. “I want it too. I want you.”
He groans, and the vibration nearly undoes me. My knees threaten to buckle, but his strong hands grasp my hips, holding me upright as he devours me.
“Kaden, please...” I'm so close, my voice a desperate whine. I'm vaguely aware that we shouldn't linger, that danger still lurks beyond the false sanctuary of steam and tile. But I'm lost in paradise and don’t want to find my way home.
“That's it,” he coaxes as I writhe against his fingers, his lips, his tongue. “Let me feel you come.”
I shatter with a broken moan, my inner muscles clenching on emptiness when he removes his fingers.
I’m just about to mourn the loss when he surges to his feet. I melt against him, reveling in his taste, his scent, the sleek slide of his wet skin against mine. His hands map the contours of my body, igniting pleasure in their wake.
I gasp as he lifts me effortlessly, pinning me against the cool marble wall while the drowning sailors of sinking ships look on and the sirens scream in victory.
My legs wrap around his waist, drawing him closer until his hard length is notched at my entrance.
“Kaden,” I say through my pants, “your leg. You shouldn’t lift me?—”
Kaden nips and sucks down the column of my throat, lingering over my racing pulse. “You think I want to feel anything less than the agony you carry? Let me take the pain. Your body might protest, but mine begs for the burden.”
Water sluices down the small spaces between us as he presses his forehead against mine.
“I need you,” he rasps, echoing my earlier words. “I've never needed anything the way I need you.”
In answer, I roll my hips, taking him inside me inch by delicious inch. We groan in unison at the exquisite way he splits me open.
“Layla.” My name is a sibilant brand on his tongue. “Are you sure?”
“I’m sure,” I tell him, my fingers digging into his shoulders.
Something flashes in Kaden's eyes then—something fierce and feral and utterly centered on me. He begins to move, driving into me with deep, powerful strokes that send sparks skittering down my nerve endings.
With our bodies slick from the shower and our shared need, Kaden claims my mouth in another scorching kiss that leaves me happily drowning like those sailors.
His tongue delves deep, demanding entrance that I grant eagerly. He tastes of desperation and desire, of things long denied finally being seized.
My wet heat slides along his rigid length, eliciting a throaty groan from deep in his chest. His hands tighten on my thighs, digging into my flesh hard enough to leave marks. More reminders that this is real, that we're together despite everything conspiring to keep us apart.
“Please,” I beg against his lips.
A fractured moan escapes my throat as he fills me to the hilt, our bodies joined as closely as two people can be. He stills, giving me a moment to adjust to his considerable size. His forehead finds mine again, our thready breaths mingling in the scant space between our lips.
“Layla,” he rumbles, his voice strained with the effort of holding back. “You feel ... fuck, you're perfect.”
I answer him with another roll of my hips, urging him even deeper. He curses, low and harsh, his control snapping.
“Forgive me for what I'm about to do to you,” he says hoarsely. “I want to treat you like glass, but there's nothing soft left in me. The Scythe took me over a long time ago—” His eyes rake over my bruised body curled around him. “And he doesn't know how to be gentle.”
He begins to move then, pounding into me with a sudden, primal ferocity that chokes my breath. The slap of wet skin against skin echoes obscenely in the marble shower, punctuated by my increasingly desperate cries.
Kaden sets a brutal pace, his hips snapping forward relentlessly as he drives himself deeper, harder, faster. It's almost too much, the line between a good ache and a bad ache—those shades of gray—blurring until I can't tell one from the other. But I don't want him to stop. I never want him to stop.
The cool tiles at my back contrast deliciously with his body's fiery heat and the spray's blanketing warmth.
Steam billows around us, adding to the dreamlike quality as we lose ourselves in sensation—the slick slide of skin, the sting of nails dragging over goosebumped flesh, and the sparks traveling along my nerves.
The room I hated so much and now love.
I hold on, nails scoring angry red lines down the flexing muscles of his back as I encourage him with wordless cries and pleas for more, harder, faster.
The whirlpool low in my belly circles tighter with every thrust, every brush of his dick against my aching clit.
“Yes,” I keen, my head thrown back against the wall as I give myself over to the exquisite agony of his possession.
The sharp sting of water against fresh wounds is soothed by his hips, slowing the slide against my sensitive flesh until I'm keening, my head thrashing against the wall. Then a powerful thrust hits that perfect spot inside me, stoking the flames.
He snarls, baring his teeth against my throat before biting down hard enough to mark. I cry out, my body bowing into his touch, silently begging for more. Always more. He gives it to me without hesitation, one hand releasing my thigh to palm my breast roughly. He rolls my nipple between his fingers, tugging just shy of too hard.
“You're mine,” he rasps, punctuating each word with a sharp thrust that makes me see stars. “No matter what happens next, you will always be mine.”
Tears prick my eyes, the salt mingling with the rivulets of water streaming down my face. “I’m yours. My heart is yours.”
Something raw and broken twists his features at my declaration, and his rhythm falters for a beat before redoubling in intensity. He kisses me again, devouring me like a man starved. I match him with equal fervor and pour every ounce of my love, my lust, into the clash of our mouths.
“That's it, Wraithling,” he praises. “Let me feel you come apart on my cock.”
“Kaden,” I pant, my body straining against invisible bonds. “I'm going to ... I can't...”
“Let go, Layla,” he commands. “I'll catch you. I will always fucking catch you.”
With a crushing sob, I come apart in his arms, my inner muscles clamping down on him like a vise.
That’s all the encouragement he needs. As the shower rains down on us, Kaden follows me over the edge with a guttural shout, shuddering as he spills himself deep inside me.
We stay locked together as we come down, our hearts gradually slowing from their frantic gallop. Kaden peppers gentle kisses across my face, my neck, my shoulders.
“I thought I lost you,” he says against my clavicle.
The water trickles to a stop as Kaden guides us away from its warmth. He sets me down gently, his hands lingering on my waist as if reluctant to let go. Just as reluctant, I trace the paths of water droplets on his chest, sliding down to where scars and cuts crisscross his skin.
Kaden’s thumb brushes my cheekbone, drawing my head up. Our breaths mingle in the steamy air, forming gossamer threads of three unspoken words, the scariest ones of all.
I love you.
I said them to Kaden before I was taken, pressing the meaning into his lips before being torn away from him. He didn’t say them back, and I don’t think it was because our time was cut short. Even now, after everything we've shared, after the reverence he showed my body, those words remain locked behind his walls.
I understand. Love is a liability he can't afford. But understanding doesn't stop the ache.
Those words sit heavy on my tongue again, but I force them back. This isn't the time, not with his lost daughter's rage waiting beyond these walls.
“We should dry off,” Kaden says, his hand falling from my cheek.
I nod, reluctant to break the spell he’s cast but aware of its fragility. As we step out, I commit every detail to memory—the slick tiles beneath my feet, the way Kaden's hair clings to his forehead, and the lingering warmth of his skin against mine. I’ll hold on to it when the horrors start again, when I’m desperate for something good amid all this agony, because I’m certain Cassie’s not finished with us.
Kaden wraps a plush towel around my shoulders before securing another at his hips.
I pull the soft cotton around my body, seeking its comfort now that I’m not wrapped around Kaden, but the moment of respite shatters as my eyes land on the floor where Kaden’s pile of clothes should be. I scan the bathroom in a panic while the steam clears—like they might’ve just wandered off to another room by themselves—before landing on Kaden. His gaze has also sharpened, not on the area where his clothes should be, but beside the vanity where two silk robes are strategically placed—one red, one black.
“Kaden…”
His jaw clenches as he stares at the robes. “I know.”
Someone was here while we were lost in each other. This moment was stolen from me, just like so much else. Nausea rises in my throat at the thought of unseen eyes on my bare skin, of my vulnerability on display.
I flinch when Kaden's hand lands on my shoulder, hating myself for the reaction even as I lean into his touch, craving his steadiness.
“Layla,” he says, turning me to face him. “We’ll figure this out. I won’t let her hurt you.”
Her. His daughter. The reminder that Cassie has orchestrated this nightmare sends a fresh shudder coursing through me. I can't imagine the additional layer of horror Kaden must be feeling to have his own flesh and blood violating his privacy, his intimacy.
But he pushes it down, his focus solely on me as he rubs soothing circles on my back. “Our choice is to put them on or stay in the towels.”
“Don’t forget the third option,” I say, trying for a joke, though my voice shakes. “We can always stay naked. It’s nothing they haven’t seen before.”
My joke falls flat.
With grim determination, Kaden moves closer to examine the robes. He lifts the smaller red one first, checking seams, pockets, anywhere something could be hidden for the purpose of hurting me.
Only when he's certain it’s safe does he help me into it, the silk cool and slippery against my skin. The exquisite fabric is no doubt expensive, but it feels like a mockery of comfort, my gilded cage closing in.
Kaden ties his robe with efficient motions, his eyes never leaving me as I fumble with my own belt, my fingers clumsy and trembling. He steps closer, gently brushing my hands aside to secure the knot himself. The simple act of care splinters something in me, and I sag against him, burying my face in his chest.
His arms come around me instantly, strong and solid.
“I've got you,” he murmurs into my hair. “I’m not going anywhere.”
I want to believe him, but fear claws at my insides, diabolical whispers filling my head. Nowhere is safe. She's always watching, always one step ahead. How can we fight an enemy that knows our every move? An enemy whom Kaden loves with every fiber of his being?
As if sensing my spiraling thoughts, Kaden cups my face, tilting my head up to meet his gaze.
“One second at a time, Wraithling. That's all we can do. We survive this second, then the next. Together.”
Together. The word is a lifeline.
Clinging to Kaden's promise, I take a deep breath and nod. Hand in hand, we step out of the bathroom to face whatever fresh hell awaits me.
Only to stop short at the scene laid out in front of us.