Chapter 7 Soul Need
SOUNDTRACK: Three Steps Ahead by Jared Benjamin
~ DONAVYN ~
I couldn’t take my hands off of her. Couldn’t kiss her long enough, or deeply enough.
Couldn’t fill my hands with her soft skin more fully.
Had to fight not to squeeze too hard, or suck too long.
Yet, to my delight, Bren didn’t shrink from me, or press me to slow—she arched in, kissing me back as deeply, and once we had each other naked, she clawed hands into my hair and down my back, pulling me closer as I devoured her.
“I need to get clean,” she gasped, her head tipping back into my palm as I curled over her, nipping at her collarbones and cupping her breast. Sliding one knee between her thighs, I swayed with her, slowly walking her backwards towards the built-in stone rectangle tub.
Thank you, God. The Officer’s quarters had been built by men with a commitment to the comfort they believed they’d earned. The bath in my quarters was easily large enough for both of us, and had a high faucet that would allow the water to pour over us even if we stood.
When Bren stumbled up against the wide edge, I didn’t pause, just lifted her and set her in the bath still on her feet, then followed her in.
With a low rumble in my chest that echoed my dragon, I held her by her hair and tipped her head back so I could kiss her more deeply, then reached past her with the other hand to turn the faucet that would release the water in the wide head above us.
I felt her tense, expecting it to be cold. We had tanks on the roof of the building that the dragons warmed in the winter when the sun wouldn’t do the job. Normally, it cooled in the pipes and would take some time to warm. But I’d already bathed, so the water that fell over us was soon steaming.
Bren gasped, and her head fell back against my hand as the warm stream poured over her. My body shuddered with need as I straightened enough to look down on her.
Eyes closed, mouth open in pure delight, her body naked, dirty, but gleaming now with water that would rinse away sweat and dirt and…
Bruises?
I pressed against her, running my free hand down her arm that was peppered with dark smudges, some of which were turning green because they were days old now. But others were an angry red, turning purple. They’d be tender now, and downright painful tomorrow.
Holding her to me with the arm cupping her head, I cupped my hand under the water, then poured it down her back and side, slowly rubbing and sliding my hand over the marks on her hip and shoulder to see what was dirt and what was her flesh.
Very little rinsed off.
Unaware of my examination, Bren laced her fingers behind my neck and let me brace her weight as her head sank back to let the water stream over her hair and trickle down her back.
She sighed my name happily and my cock leaped, straining against her because I needed her badly. But I argued with myself in my mind.
She was a soldier. And in training—difficult, extensive training, even for men. Of course she’d bear the marks—and eventually the scars—of this life. When I’d been young, I’d worn the cuts and bruises of training with pride. A way to prove that I could take it.
I’d admired men who carried themselves straight back into the fray when their bodies were hurting. Encouraged young men to learn to set their hurts aside and keep going.
I knew she needed that resilience, too.
But my heart. My body. My instincts screamed otherwise.
Then her eyes opened and, unaware that my growling had more to do with anger than desire, she reached up to grab my chin and pull me down into a kiss.
We staggered, our teeth clashing, but she reached for me, stroking, sending jolts of pleasure and need up and down my spine. My body howled for her, and the bruises couldn’t be changed now. Still, I did my best to keep my grip gentle where she was marked, and vowed to talk to her about it later.
“Donavyn, what’s wrong?”
Realizing she sensed my distraction, I shushed her and cupped her face, running my fingers through her hair under the stream of warm water and smiling down at her. “I’ve missed you,” I said hoarsely.
It was an understatement. This had been our longest separation since we mated. And even though Akhane’s heat had passed, the bond still pulled at me. I’d been a bear since lunchtime—the men stepping quickly, nervous around me.
By the dinner hour, I’d been so frustrated with myself, I made excuses and returned to my quarters, hoping she’d finish early.
Remembering the hours I’d spent trying to read reports and instead found myself staring out the window, analyzing the bond and attempting to estimate how far away she was.
It was a problem.
“Tomorrow, I’m finding a reason to see you in the middle of the day—”
“No!” she gasped, her eyes flying wide when I picked her up and pressed her against the cold stone of the wall.
Her whole body jolted with the cold of the stone against her back, but she only pulled me closer and clawed both hands into my hair—now wet because I’d passed under the spray.
It trickled down my back and over her legs as I leaned into her, hissing and jolting as I slid against the heat of her because she’d opened her legs around my waist.
I tipped my hips to press harder against her, and shivered with the wave of pleasure that rocked through me at the sensation of her, already needy for me.
My breath was already heavy and loud enough to be heard over the running water—but Bren panted as well, her nails scoring my back when I slid against her for a third time and she shuddered, her head dropping back against the stone.
The temptation to take her by the hips, to pull just far enough away to find her, to enter her, to take her hard and fast right now was so overwhelming, I shook with it.
But a moment later, I was glad to fight the battle.
“Donavyn,” she gasped, taking my face in her hands. “I need to get clean.”
I grunted. “Who’s giving orders now?”
She snorted and I smiled down at her, but didn’t let her loose as she expected, my hips and thighs keeping her pressed to that stone so she couldn’t move.
Instead, I reached to the little ledge at the side of the bath and picked up the cake of soap, holding it under the stream of water for a moment, before I arched back to put space between our chests, but kept myself against the hot seam of her, painting her body in the slick, gleaming bubbles from the soap.
She locked eyes with me, her pupils dilating, as I started at her shoulders and collarbones.
Unable to resist, I broke eye-contact to watch myself soap one breast, then the other.
She bit her lip and I shuddered, but snapped the leash on my desire tight, then followed the faint lines of her abdominal muscles down until there wasn’t room enough between us for my hand gripping the soap.
Her hips rolled as she tried to lean back, but I wouldn’t give her the space. We locked eyes again and I smiled, then pulled her slick, soapy body against mine and cupped her ass with one hand and turned her so I leaned back against the wall and she was under the water.
I tried to focus on soaping up her back and hair, but it was too hard. I was too hard.
Muttering complaints, I set her back on her feet, stepping into her space, holding her against me as I put her back to the stream and squatted at her feet.
If she needed to be clean, I’d get her clean. Then I’d dirty her all over again.
When I cupped the back of her calf with one soapy hand, running it up and down her leg, she leaned back, arching and I was presented with a choice.
“Widen your stance,” I ordered, my voice gruff with stifled need.
Her head jerked up and she looked down at me, eyes widening when she saw the pure hunger in mine. But she nodded quickly, then braced both hands on my shoulders, and did as I asked, shifting her feet to the edges of the tub.
Breath rasping and chest swelling with each inhale, I soaped up my hands again and ran both up and down the insides of her legs, then the outsides, then I handed her the soap and instructed her to wash her hair as I curled hands around her legs and ran them under the water, up and down, from her ass to her ankles, making sure every last slick bubble was rinsed off.
New bubbles and spatters poured down when she let her head sink back, her lathered hair now under the stream.
For a few seconds, still kneeling between her feet, I looked up and was treated to the sight of my mate’s naked, shining body, gleaming and clean, arched back, her elbows high, and breasts pert as she rinsed her hair under the stream of water.
“Holy fuck,” I breathed, begging God to forgive me for the curse, but dear Lord, she was stunning.
When she put the soap aside and lifted her head, looking down at me with a sparkling smile, I didn’t hesitate. I grasped her ass in both hands, holding her to me as I laid my tongue to that sweet, warm flesh where the rest of my body ached to be.
Bren’s hands clapped to my shoulders and her hips flexed as I found her and licked, then sucked, then licked again.
“Donavyn…”
With each new stroke and lave, her breath caught and her fingers slid into my hair, holding me to her and guiding me.
When her knees began to shake, I braced an arm under her ass to take her weight, then inserted a finger as well, beckoning her climax over and over until she panted my name and her body arched.
Mouth full of her, I couldn’t speak, but begged her in the bond.
‘Come for me, beautiful.’
‘Donavyn, I… I…”
‘Just let go. I’ve got you. I’ll hold you. Let go. Come for me.’
Whimpers broke in her throat, and her body quivered. Then she snapped, arching back. She froze in that electric pose and I braced to hold her as she cried out, my name echoing on the stone walls, dampened by the hush of water and steam.