Chapter 13
thirteen
George takes a bath.
George stood before the mirror in her dressing gown, waiting for her bath to arrive and trying to recreate that look Wynnie gave men.
She was just asking herself whether she needed to learn it, when a tinkle and splash indicated Ean had filled her tub.
Untying her belt, she stepped into her washroom, ready for the perfumed, steaming bath to wash away the dust from the city streets and soften the stress that tensed her tired muscles.
A scream sliced through the peace, snapping George from reverie. She flew through her room and sitting room, heading for the terrified shout that undoubtedly came from Isahn. She hoped to the gods that no one loyal to her father had snuck in and found him.
His chamber was empty, and the door to his washroom was closed. Heart thumping so hard she thought it might fly out of her chest, she shoved open the panel with magic and sped in, ready to cut down anyone who dared to lay a finger on her earl.
Isahn stood half-in and half-out of the tub, a sea sponge on his finger as he stared at her with wild eyes.
George stared back, lips parting as she took in the sheer size of him. He wasn’t even aroused... yet. “What happened?” she breathed.
“What the fuck is this thing?” He flicked his hand through the air, and the sponge went flying at her. She snatched it before it sailed over her shoulder.
“It’s a sea sponge, for bathing. Do you not use them in Selwas?
Is this what scared you?” George held up the unoffending object and studied it as a breeze flowed through the open window, tickling her thighs.
The sponge was slightly hard and scratchy, but would soften in the water, and worked wonderfully to exfoliate skin.
“We use flannels. And so what if it did scare me?” He narrowed his eyes.
When she tossed it back, he didn’t scream, but he did bat it into the tub. Her eyes flicked between the fairly robust sea sponge and Isahn’s similarly sized—
“Like what you see?” he rumbled, his heated gaze raking over her, sending sparks up within her like she was a bed of hot coals.
“Do you?”
“Very much. Tell me, what is this style?” He tipped his chin as his eyes dropped to below her navel.
George huffed, less so at Isahn and more at the obnoxious pulsing rhythm her whole body had adopted. “What style?”
Isahn sent a tendril of water magic rolling through the air. She blinked, following the snake-like coil as it neared her belt—or where her belt would’ve been if she hadn’t untied it.
Shit. She’d forgotten she was naked, or near enough that she wasn’t going to split hairs. Her thin robe always let a bit of a breeze through—she hadn’t questioned it. She should have questioned it.
George shoved Isahn in the chest with a light burst of magic.
He stumbled back as laughter tumbled from his smiling mouth.
Though she tried not to look, George noted the way his thighs tightened, his swelling erection swinging with the movement.
There wasn’t a single reason why that should’ve been so attractive, but it was.
A strong pulse between her legs reaffirmed the thought.
As Isahn studied her from her sex, up to her mouth, and back down again, his eyes darkened and shifted from the pale blue of Domossan skies to the deep sapphire of Lake Loukeo. Between his expression and the size of his member, she knew he was similarly intrigued.
Heart fluttering, a warmth coiled in her chest while she gazed at him. He still hadn’t moved, standing with one foot on the tile floor, the other submerged up to his knee. Her mouth twitched.
“You know...” Wetting her lips, she offered, “If it’s too scary to bathe alone with the horrid sponge, I could wash you. I was planning to do the same.” She gestured at her open robe.
“Oh, is that so?” Isahn’s eyes shimmered as he cocked his head to the side. “Is that why you’re dressed as you are? Here I thought you were getting ready for cena.” His mouth opened slightly, and she watched, entranced, as he ran his tongue slowly over the tips of his teeth.
She could only nod.
“I am scared, actually.” Isahn shrugged and stepped into the tub. “I think I’ll take you up on your generous offer.”
Smirking, she slipped her silk robe off her shoulders and let it pool on the tan tiled floor.
“Give me a second? Turn around...” He didn’t touch her with his magic, but he did push out a thick tendril of water that twirled in the air, giving a silent command. “And before you get offended: It’s not you, it’s me.”
She spun with a laugh to face the wall.
Splashing indicated he’d settled into the tub. “You’re sure I can use this sea sponge on myself?”
“Positive. But I thought I was going to wash you?” She angled her foot, ready to turn and climb in the tub.
“Ah— One second. Do you value honesty, George?”
What a strange question. She said as much.
“Honestly, I stink. And I need to wash some particular areas before I let you in.”
She snorted.
A few moments later, the splashing stopped, and he asked her to join.
She found him lounging at the far end of the tub, his legs open wide, knees raised, making space for her between them.
Accepting his offered hand, George went for it, surprising herself with her own lack of shyness when it came time to lift a leg over the rim of the basin.
She was comfortable—more than comfortable—being fully nude around this man.
It wasn’t entirely perplexing how she got to this point, but it was a surprise to find just how far he’d wormed his way into her heart.
“Can I wash you?” Isahn rumbled, the tips of his fingers running over her shoulder blades.
Her head bobbed. This wasn’t the plan, but she was happy with the change, especially when he grabbed her firmly around the upper arms and slid her back.
“Is that a yes?”
She nodded again, her dry curls clinging to his damp chest. “Everywhere?” George rasped.
“Do you want me to wash you everywhere?”
She hummed, and Isahn practically growled, pulling a husky laugh from deep in her chest.
Abandoning her body briefly, he retrieved the basket of soaps and oils for her perusal. After a moment’s concentration, she handed over her favorite, a sultry spiced rose scent.
He began his task, lathering her right arm, working his way down from shoulder to wrist, his movements slow and deliberate.
“I’m saving the best parts for last, just to let you know.” His low voice vibrated against her upper back, and the tip of his erection pressed firmly against her spine.
Melting into his chest, her muscles relaxed, and her worries skipped away. He swapped the soap for the loofah and rubbed gentle circles over her skin. The anticipation as George waited for him to get to the “best parts” began its deliciously slow build.
As he washed her with delicate motions, she realized she’d never felt so relaxed around any man, even those she’d been intimate with.
Isahn was so different: open and genuine and kind.
She trusted him. The overwhelming urge to tell him flooded her, a cozy warmth that spread from the center of her chest down to the bottom of her belly.
The heat was quickly sucked away by a chill of anxiety. What if he didn’t feel the same? What if he doesn’t care? Would he be doing what he’s doing if he didn’t care?
If she didn’t say something to at least hint at the feelings she was developing, she’d lose her godsdamn mind.
With a steadying breath, George let her words flow: “I know we’ve only known each other for nine days, but you make me feel safe, Isahn.” There. She breathed a sigh of relief.
His simple nod, chin bumping against the crown of her head, reignited the blooming warmth in her chest.
With a tap of his fingers, he asked her to rotate her arm so he could wash the inside.
Though her heart hammered with the force of her vulnerability, his quiet understanding prompted her to continue.
“Things here, under my father’s rule, they’re not good at all.
And they’ve gotten even worse since he— My mother’s been gone a decade.
” She sighed as he moved on to wash her left arm.
“As much as I want to keep you tucked away, safe in my apartment, I can’t shield you from the palace entirely.
That’s not why you’re here. But, deiwa nekami, it’s terrible at times.
Without ruining this lovely evening”—George ran her palm up the outside of Isahn’s thigh—“let me just say that I don’t always find it possible to relax, especially not here in Hepikoru.
But with you around, it’s... different. You’re different. ”
“How am I ‘different’?” he murmured, reaching around to wrap his fingers beneath her right knee, urging her leg up and out of the water so he could attend to it.
“You’ve never snapped at me or been rough. Even when we imprisoned you, you didn’t lash out. And you could’ve, easily.” His attention to her thighs was intensely distracting, but George wasn’t done with this conversation, so she ignored the rising need in her core.
He grunted in disagreement. “I charged you with my magic.” One of his big, hot hands came to rest at the base of her spine. “Scoot forward so I can wash your back and your hair.”
She moved up and leaned her breasts against her knees. “You’re wrong, by the way,” she murmured as he slid the smooth bar of rose soap down the length of her spine, stopping just above the crease of her bottom.
“How am I wrong?” Isahn chuckled. “I absolutely pushed my magic out at you, without permission.”
He was wrong; he hadn’t been aggressive. Annoyance that he would blame himself flooded her, and she snapped, “I slapped you away, and you stopped, immediately. We had you in shackles, Isahn! Deiwa hathemi. You were a perfect gentleman, given the circumstances.”
“What does that mean?” He swapped the slippery soap for the sponge and caressed it over her back before dropping it and tugging George against him. His wiry leg hairs rasped against her outer thighs, and his forearm barred across her belly.
She sucked in a breath and wondered aloud, “Circumstances?” Isahn’s hold on her was so disarming, she’d already forgotten what she said.
He chuckled, his chest hair rough against her back. “No. ‘Deiwa hathemi.’ You say that a lot. And the other one, ‘nekami.’ What do they mean? Goddess something?”
Tipping her head up to look at him, she grinned. “Goddess help me, and goddess kill me. It’s so sweet when you speak the Old Tongue.”
“That’s not the Old Tongue.”
“It’s our Old Tongue in Domos.”
“Interesting, I never really considered that.” He trailed his thumb over her bottom lip, sending shivers to her core.
George tipped her chin down, eyeing her own center, soaking beneath the surface. She couldn’t help but wonder if he’d make good on his promise to clean her everywhere. He better not use soap or she’d have to stop him. “I thought you were a learned man?”
“I have my credits from the Institute, but I’ve always preferred spending my time with the learned, rather than being one myself. Probably why I like you so much.” He pressed a kiss to the crown of her head.
George chuckled.
“Did you mean what you said, about feeling safe with me?” His breath was hot on her hair.
“Oh, don’t make me repeat it. It was hard to get those words out.”
He dipped his head, smiling against her neck. “Because you didn’t mean them?”
“Because I mean them so much.”
His teeth scraped over her skin and he nipped her gently, sending shivers coursing out to tighten her nipples.
“I was going to say, I feel the same way,” he rumbled.
“How can I possibly make you feel safe?” she scoffed, heels skidding against the smooth basin as she drew her knees up to her chest.
Isahn wrapped her in a hug, legs and all.
His chin rested on her right shoulder, their cheeks pressed against one another as he spoke softly.
“I’ve been an earl for almost three years now, after my parents’ untimely deaths—from oysters.
Solaelia and I think it was poison. Intentional.
And we have always, even before my parents passed, been wary of Peros and his intentions.
This is a long story for another day, but two years ago, my cousin Rihan, Peros’s son, was involved in an attempted coup.
He was hung for it. Like his denial of having anything to do with my parents’ death, Peros claimed ignorance in the case against Rihan and the former prince, Nekash.
I don’t know... It never sat right with me.
And now there’s all of this coming to light, whatever’s going on with him and your father. He’s not to be trusted.”
“I understand.” George nodded, Isahn’s stubbled cheek scritching her skin.
“My life hasn’t been filled with as many challenges as yours, Georgetta—”
She stiffened. “Please don’t call me that.”
“Of course.”
He didn’t ask why, only acquiesced immediately, patching a hole in her heart that she hadn’t even realized was there.
“Our lives have been different, there’s no denying that,” he said. “But we’ve been looking over our shoulders for a long time. I can empathize with you in some capacity. You’ve made me feel safe from our first meeting—maybe the second.”
She laughed.
“Even when you and your friends abducted me, I hardly worried for my life?” Isahn said the last part like a question, as if even he was surprised by the fact.
“Even when you were trying to be harsh with me, when you thought I was connected to your father’s crimes, there was always a softness about you.
” He nuzzled his nose into the side of her face as he chuckled at his own stupid joke.
When she turned toward him, their noses brushed and their breaths mingled. “I like feeling safe,” she breathed, lips grazing his.
“I do too. And I think more importantly, I like you.” Isahn’s fingers knotted in her hair as he pressed his mouth to hers, his tongue running along the seam of her lips as he sought entry.
She welcomed him. Sucking the lightest bit on the tip of his tongue before writhing against it with her own. “I like you too,” George whispered between kisses.
“Good.” He gave her a peck before pulling away as his palms slipped over her stomach, fingertips light and teasing. “Now let me finish washing you... everywhere.”
He was heartwarmingly gentle with her as he tended to her breasts and the space between her legs. Too gentle. Despite being naked together, despite his hand being exactly where she needed him, he kept it to cleaning. Next time the opportunity arose, she wouldn’t let herself leave unsatisfied.