24. Zerion
ZERION
Kessara glances over her shoulder to face me, droplets cascading from her shoulders like liquid diamonds in the firelight.
Her hazel eyes hold that same wariness I've grown to recognize—the look of a creature that's been hurt too many times to trust easily.
The vulnerability there strikes something deep in my chest, a protective instinct that has little to do with duty or obligation.
I lean forward and capture her mouth with mine, tasting the uncertainty on her lips. The kiss remains gentle, a promise rather than a demand. When I pull back, her eyes search my face with desperate intensity.
"Listen to me, sweet." My voice comes out rougher than intended. "My affection for you, this intimacy between us—none of it is payment for services rendered. You are not here because you owe me your body in exchange for shelter."
Her breath catches, steam curling between us in the heated air.
"You are free to come and go as you choose. Free to refuse me if you wish." The words taste like ash, but they need to be said. "I will not use your siblings' safety as leverage against you."
She blinks slowly, water droplets clinging to her dark lashes like morning dew. When she speaks, her voice emerges as little more than a whisper.
"I don't really want to refuse."
The confession sends heat racing through my veins that really has little to do with the warm bath. Before she can retreat behind that stubborn pride of hers, I slide my hands beneath her arms and lift her effortlessly, turning her to face me as I settle her astride my lap.
The new position brings us eye to eye, her breasts level with my mouth.
Water streams from her skin in rivulets that catch the dancing firelight, highlighting curves that no longer speak of starvation and desperation.
The sharp angles of her collarbones have softened, her ribs no longer visible through translucent skin.
"You've gotten some meat on your bones," I murmur, unable to keep the satisfaction from my voice.
She gasps and immediately moves to cover herself, arms crossing over her chest in a gesture of pure mortification. "Are you calling me fat?"
Before she can retreat further, I catch her wrists in my hands, holding them gently but firmly at her sides. Her eyes flash with indignation, but I lean forward and take her nipple between my lips, the taste of lavender and warm skin flooding my senses.
She arches against me with a sharp intake of breath, her protests dissolving into something far more interesting.
I release her slowly, looking up to meet her stunned gaze. "You're not fat, sweet. You're full and healthy." My thumb traces the curve of her breast, marveling at the soft warmth of her. "Good enough to eat."
I lean forward again and capture her other nipple between my lips, teasing the tight bud with teeth and tongue until she whimpers.
Her pulse jumps beneath my mouth, a frantic rhythm that matches my own eagerness.
When I release her, she squirms against me, the slick warmth of her sex rubbing against my hardening cock.
We both groan at the contact—a raw, unguarded sound that has little to do with nobility or propriety.
She cups my jaw in her wet hand, guiding my face up to meet hers.
Her dark hair spills around us like a curtain of silk as she leans down and kisses me with a languid thoroughness that steals my breath.
The taste of her is rainwater and desperation, and I realize with sudden clarity that she needs this as much as I do.
My hands find her hips, fingers digging into soft flesh as I grind up against her. The water sloshes over the tub, splattering across the floor in warm puddles that reflect the firelight like scattered jewels.
"Gods above," she breathes against my mouth, her breath hitching.
I watch her face, the way her eyes flutter closed and her lips part. She reaches down between us, slender fingers closing around my cock. Her touch is confident, sure—the same hands that once picked pockets and stole apples now guiding me exactly where we both want me to go.
"Not gods," I murmur into her ear. "Just you."
She positions me at her entrance, slick and ready already, and I slide in with shocking, effortless ease. Her body welcomes me like a homecoming, tight and wet and impossibly warm.
"That's it, sweet," I groan, my head falling back against the rim of the tub. "My needy girl, already so fucking wet for me."
She shudders at the crude words, her inner muscles clenching around me in a rhythmic pulse that steals my breath. When I open my eyes again, she's rising and falling on me with a passion that makes my vision blur.
Water splashes over the tub's edge as she rides me, her body moving with a fluid grace that should be illegal. Her back arches, breasts bouncing with each movement, nipples stiff and flushed. Sweat glistens on her collarbone, mingling with the bathwater that drips from her chin onto my chest.
I watch her through half-lidded eyes, transfixed by the way she moves.
The shift of muscle in her thighs as she controls the rhythm, the clench of her abdomen when she sinks down fully, the way her throat works with each soft gasp.
Her hair sticks to her damp skin in dark tendrils, wild and beautiful.
"Please," she rasps, her hips grinding in a desperate circle that sends sparks shooting up my spine. "Please don't stop."
I grin up at her, my hands tightening on her hips to guide her movements. "Who said anything about stopping?"
One moment she's riding me with that lush, graceful abandon, and the next I'm surging out of the water, hauling her back against my chest before flipping her onto her knees before me.
Her startled gasp echoes in the steamy room as I bend her forward over the tub's rim, her perfect ass propped high and exposed.
"Hold there," I growl, positioning myself behind her. The water sloshes wildly, splashing over the copper edge with each of my movements.
She braces her hands against the far side of the tub, her head dropping between her shoulders. "Zerion—"
I thrust into her in one smooth, brutal stroke that steals the air from her lungs. Her cry shatters into a high, reedy sound that has my cock twitching inside her.
"Such pretty noises," I murmur, gripping her hips as I pull back and drive forward again. Her body yields to mine like warmed silk, tight and slick and welcoming me deeper with each thrust. "Beg for it, sweet. I want to hear you say it."
She tries to form words, but all that comes out is a breathy moan as I set a punishing pace. Water sprays with every impact, her skin flushing a deep rose where my hands grip her. She pushes back against me, meeting my thrusts with a desperate hunger that matches my own.
"Please," she finally gasps, her voice ragged. "More, please..."
I grin, the feral satisfaction coiling in my gut.
My fingers tangle in her soaking hair, gathering the dark strands into a fist and pulling just enough to tilt her head back.
Her mouth falls open on a silent cry, her eyes squeezing shut as I drive into her harder, deeper, until her body trembles around mine.
"You're mine," I tell her, the words coming out guttural and raw. I release her hair and wrap my arm around her waist instead, hauling her back flush against my chest. Her head lolls against my shoulder, her face a mask of stunned pleasure as I continue fucking her.
She convulses suddenly, her inner muscles clamping down on me in rhythmic waves that make stars dance in my field of vision. Her jaw drops, eyes rolling back as the orgasm tears through her.
"Oh gods," she whimpers, her body going limp in my arms.
My hips jerk forward one final time, burying myself to the hilt as I empty into her with a ragged groan. My seed paints her insides, marking her in the most primitive way possible—breeding her tight pussy until she's full of me.
We collapse back into the tub together, water sloshing over the sides in a final wave. She sags against my chest, boneless and spent, while I wrap my arms around her and hold her close. Our harsh breaths echo in the steam-filled room, mingling with the crackle of the fire.
For a long while, neither of us speaks. I trace the line of her spine with my fingertips, feeling the rapid flutter of her heartbeat against my palm.
This is where I'm meant to be.