Chapter Twenty-six #3
Wilder turned to the vanity and evaluated his injuries, trying to ignore the splash of water from behind him, trying not to picture Thea naked.
Instead, he cleaned several gashes he hadn’t realised marred his torso, none of them deep enough to need stitches.
He used another cloth to wipe the streaks of dried blood from his face, and poured himself a drink at the cart, each action a deliberate distraction from the woman bathing mere feet away.
But when the splashing stilled and no other sound came from the tub, Wilder didn’t hesitate to turn. He found Thea lying there, eyes closed, the water clouded around her. Her head rested against the rim, her hair half covered in suds.
‘Are you alright?’ he asked softly, not wanting to startle her.
‘I just needed to rest a moment,’ she replied, not opening her eyes.
Wilder’s gaze travelled from the soap in her hair to her injured arm elevated on the edge of the tub. Of course it hurt to wash her hair.
‘Let me,’ he said.
Wilder knelt at the head of the tub and threaded his fingers through her hair, massaging the soap into her scalp.
Thea moaned, the sound sending a bolt of longing straight to his cock.
But he ignored his desire. Instead, he went about washing Thea’s hair, lathering the soap through the ends, trying to ease the tension from her neck with circular strokes of his fingers.
Carefully, he eased her down into the tub, holding her by her nape as he rinsed the suds from her hair, keeping her head tilted back, mindful not to let any trickle into her eyes. He kept his own gaze averted from her body, which he knew was floating above the water line now.
At last, he helped her sit up and she blinked at him, dazed.
Emotion caught in Wilder’s throat. He fetched her a towel from one of the gold hooks and held it out to her, turning his head away.
He heard the water pour from her body as she stood and accepted the towel.
‘You can look now,’ she said quietly.
Wilder wasn’t sure he was ready to, but he met her gaze, noting the slight flush to her cheeks and the droplets of water on her bare shoulders, the towel tucked under her arms and across her chest.
‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘I know that wasn’t part of your official duties as mentor.’
Wilder forced a casual shrug and helped her step out of the tub, leading her to the vanity. ‘Make sure your wound is dry, then you can put some of that salve on it before we bandage it.’
He made the mistake of looking at her in the mirror. She stood in front of his towering frame, so small compared to him, so vulnerable in just a towel, her hair wet, her mouth parted as she, too, caught their reflection.
They stared at each other. She was clean and fresh; he was as filthy as all manner of sins. But both their gazes heated as they looked upon one another.
‘Wilder…’ Thea murmured, a curse and a plea.
She let her towel fall.
Wilder’s mouth nearly fell open at the sight of her, naked but for her fate stone. Every dip, every curve of her perfect body called out to him, and his cock strained against his pants.
‘Thea…’ he breathed, leaning in and brushing his lips against the hollow of her neck, breathing in the new lavender soap scent. ‘We said we wouldn’t…’
He couldn’t take his eyes off her in the mirror, how her breasts rose and fell with each breath, how hard her nipples looked, how her thighs were slightly parted, and how her backside pressed against him.
‘There’s no escaping this,’ she said, reaching for his hands. ‘No matter what we say. And I’m done denying it. I want you, Wilder.’
She put his hands on her, cupping her breasts.
Wilder groaned as his rough palms closed over her soft skin, the sensation sending a current racing through him, gathering at his balls, making his cock throb.
Thea tilted her head back, resting against his chest as he let his hands explore her.
He circled her breasts with the lightest touch, he pinched her nipples until she moaned, and all the while, they watched themselves in the mirror, as though their reflections were untethered from them.
They were not the same people; they did not have the same worries.
Their reflections were free to do as they wished.
And so Wilder let his fingers drift south, tracing Thea’s navel and dipping between her legs. She arched her back, pressing her backside against his rock-hard erection, creating enough friction between them that he wondered for a moment if he might just come in his pants like a teenager.
But this wasn’t about him.
He let his fingers trail down her centre, finding her wet and wanting.
She whimpered as he circled her clit, her legs shaking against his. He hooked a hand under her thigh and lifted her leg, placing her foot on the vanity so she was spread bare before him, so he could see her, all of her.
His pulse seemed to slow. Gods, he’d never seen a more perfect sight.
‘Wilder…’ she moaned.
His name on her lips was like a drug.
She cried out as he slipped a finger inside her. Furies save him, she was so wet, so tight as she clenched around him.
Thea reached for him, but he held himself away from her grasp.
‘Let me give you this,’ he murmured against her skin.
She melted beneath him, moving with his finger as he added another, coaxing that pleasure into being for her.
Everything about Althea Zoltaire was intoxicating: the way she felt, the way she rode his fingers and moaned his name as he circled her clit, the heat of her skin against his bare chest.
His whole body was alight with blazing desire, his erection straining almost painfully against his pants, begging to be freed, begging to slide home into her wet heat.
He wanted to kiss her, but he also didn’t want to miss a moment of witnessing her pleasure, so he kissed her neck instead, watching as she writhed.
Gods, he loved how her body responded to him, so flushed with pleasure, his fingers soaked with her arousal.
She arched into his touch as he squeezed her breast and played with her nipple, her eyes closing in ecstasy.
‘Look at me,’ he commanded softly, his hand closing gently around her throat and lifting her gaze to meet his in the mirror. ‘I want you to look at me as you come undone.’
And at those words, she did.
He could almost feel the wave of pleasure rushing through her, his own need answering in response, his cock twitching against her backside.
Thea’s body shuddered against his and she cried out loudly, eyes wide, legs quaking.
‘Gods…’ She twisted against him and captured his mouth with hers, kissing him fiercely through the rest of her climax. He caught her hands before she could grip the hard length of him.
‘We don’t have time for that,’ he told her, unable to stop himself from pulling her close and deepening the kiss for a moment.
Still naked and flushed, Thea panted as he broke away, trying to keep his smile to himself.
‘Get dressed, Princess… There are clean clothes in the armoire.’
She made a noise of disappointment against his chest, but eventually acquiesced, leaving him to bathe.
As the door clicked closed after her, Wilder had to pour a drink to steady himself, to tame his pounding heart.
The truth of his own words hit him.
Princess.
Thea was a Princess of Delmira.
And he was so deeply in love with her it might just consume him.
Knocking back the drink without even tasting it, Wilder made quick work of washing, opting to empty the tub and simply pour the pails over himself as he scrubbed.
But when he entered the main chamber, Wilder stopped in his tracks.
The gown King Artos had provided for Thea was clever, paying homage to the dream she had for herself. Black and silver entwined, it clung to her waist and curves, falling elegantly to the floor, but the bodice… It was embellished with fine lines of steel.
It was more than a beautiful dress.
It looked like armour.
Wilder swallowed the lump in his throat as that intense green gaze met his.
He’d been wrong. Thea wasn’t a princess.
She was a queen.