CHAPTER EIGHT #3
Now Daphne leaned forward. Her fingers were still inside her. “You want to impress me? Make me smile. Make me laugh. Make me care.” She looked him dead in the eye. “And then make me come.”
Maximus held her gaze, and Daphne could have sworn she felt the temperature between them rise. It was already sweltering in here; steam from the bath filled the room. And with Maximus looking at her as if he intended to do everything she’d just demanded of him, it only felt hotter.
Daphne touched herself quicker now, chasing a steady rhythm.
She allowed her head to fall back, knowing Maximus would watch her throat.
She never let him see too much of her body, certainly not her breasts or her center.
He hadn’t earned it, and he probably never would.
But that didn’t stop her from touching anything she wanted to touch.
Maximus did not touch himself in return.
Daphne didn’t expect him to. She hadn’t requested it, and she didn’t want to see it anyway.
Instead, he sat perfectly still, staring at her with unrelenting focus as he asked, “How many fingers are you using?”
She looked him in the eye. “Two.”
“Use three.”
“Why should I?”
“Because I’m telling you to.”
“Give me a better reason.”
“You’ll like it.”
“How do you know?”
Maximus ran a harried hand through his hair. “Do as I say, Daphne.”
But Daphne was not interested in doing what he said. She was interested in having an orgasm in exactly the way she wanted to have it. “No.”
Immediately, Maximus stood. In a single step, he was at the bathtub. He leaned forward, grasping the porcelain on either side of her body as he looked down at her. “Do. As. I. Say.”
Daphne looked up at him defiantly. Just because the prince had never heard no before didn’t mean she owed him a yes. “Careful, Maximus,” she whispered. “We had an arrangement.”
He stood perfectly still, staring at her.
She stared right back. His fingers gripped the bathtub so tightly his veins popped beneath his skin.
Daphne was no stranger to men looking at her the way Maximus was looking at her now: like she was something to be devoured.
But Maximus was not like the men she’d been with before. He was the future king.
“Sit down,” Daphne said slowly. “And I will use three fingers.”
Maximus’s jaw was clenched; she could see his pulse pounding in his throat.
Daphne wondered if anyone had ever given him such an order before.
For a long moment, she thought he might reprimand her.
But then he straightened, adjusted his collar, and sat down.
Victory swept through her. She’d commanded a prince, and he’d obeyed. She deserved a reward.
True to her word, Daphne slid a third finger inside her.
The sensation was amazing; it stretched her center the way a cock would.
Finally, Daphne allowed herself to moan.
With each noise she made, Maximus seemed to come undone.
His eyes were wild and dark, his breath nearly as unsteady as hers.
Soon it became impossible to hold back. Daphne arched her back, driving deeper, clutching the bathtub with her other hand for stability.
She thought of Kronos: of his freckled hands, his strong forearms. She pictured his body pressed against hers, skin on skin, no space between them.
At last, Daphne came with a gasp, her eyes slamming shut as her wetness coated her fingers.
When she opened her eyes, Maximus was still staring at her. His cock was hard; it strained against his trousers. He still hadn’t touched it.
“Was that real?” he whispered.
“Was what real?”
“Is that really how you sound when you come?”
Daphne smiled, still breathless from her release. “What do you think?”
His gray eyes held hers. “I don’t know what to think.”
“You think I would fake an orgasm I gave myself?”
“I don’t know what you are capable of, Daphne.”
She smiled even wider. Sometimes she didn’t know either. “Do you like the way I sound?”
Maximus ran his fingers through his hair again. Between the heat of the bathroom and the heat of the moment, his skin shone with a delicate sheen of sweat. “Yes, you infernal woman. I like the way you sound.”
Daphne giggled. Infernal woman. She liked the way that sounded. “Close your eyes again. I’m getting out.”
Maximus let out an incredulous bark of laughter. “Really? Even after that, I’m still not allowed to see you naked?”
In reply, she crossed her arms expectantly.
He sighed before closing his eyes.
Daphne stood slowly, letting the water drip from her body.
She felt unbearably light, as if she were made of feathers.
There was a towel hanging on the wall, and she took it, drying herself before pulling her dress back on.
When she was covered once more, she stood before Maximus, placing a single finger under his chin and pulling his face up to hers.
“Open your eyes,” she said.
He did so.
She liked the prince from this angle. His throat was taut, his cheekbones sharp. He looked like a weapon.
“What now?” Maximus whispered, repeating the same question she’d asked him earlier.
“Now you take me home.”