Chapter Twenty-One #2
And she knew, reading his expression as easily someone else did a printed page. “Everything okay?” she asked with a worried look, pausing with sponge in hand.
“I’m just thankful.”
“For what?”
“You.”
She dropped the scrubber and raised up on her tiptoes to kiss him, a luscious open-mouthed tangle of lips and tongue.
The heat went straight through him, and he struggled not to drag her close and bind her against him with both arms. It was delicious torture to kiss her and feel her entire naked body without holding her.
“You can,” she whispered.
“What?”
“Touch me.”
A shudder went through him at being given permission, but he still took it slowly, washing her back and shoulders, gently rinsing her hair and pulling it through his fingers.
For him, a kiss had never felt like a full body experience before, as if all his atoms were straining toward her, a vicious yearning that gnawed at him until he could scarcely breathe.
Slay broke the kiss, fearing that his intensity might frighten her, but she pulled his lips back to hers, digging her fingers into his shoulders.
Slay moaned into her mouth, only seconds from losing control completely, but he might frighten her if he went too fast, and gods, if he ruined this as well—
Ruthlessly he shut that thought down and focused only on the sensations spiraling through him.
On another level, he wanted to make sure it was good for Ro too, so he reined in his impulses—the ones whispering at him to claim her with ferocious passion.
Then she scrambled his good intentions by climbing him, her thighs encircling his hips so that her pussy kissed his cock.
His shaft jerked in helpless response, and she moved too, slowly circling her hips as she wrapped her arms around his neck, dual layers of maddening sensation pulsing through his body.
Somehow the heated kisses, the warmth of her body, and the silky feel of the water streaming over him combined to leave him delirious with desire.
“I wanted our first time to be beautiful and unhurried, someplace private that belongs only to us,” he gasped. “But if we don’t stop, I’m afraid—”
“I don’t want to do it on the bathhouse floor either,” Ro cut in, laughing.
“Then…?”
“Let’s get out and find those accommodations you mentioned,” she suggested. “Can you manage a brief intermission?”
“I’ll think cooling thoughts.”
Even so, they could barely keep their hands off each other as they dried off with clean towels and put on the casual loungewear available to all bathhouse patrons.
Hettie had told Slay where the housing lay in relation to the bathhouse, and Ro helped him navigate the unfamiliar maze.
Slay always kept a hand on her as if she were quicksilver that might slip through his fingers at any moment.
Rowena laughed, tugging lightly on his hand, hopefully as eager to finish what they’d started as he was.
Their assigned quarters had clearly been used as a barracks, before the tyrant emptied it and sent so many souls out to die in his fruitless war.
They found a simple room that had probably been used by an officer.
The walls were pale stone, no natural light, of course, but it was well lit by Golgerran standards.
Plain furnishings occupied the space—desk, chair, comfortable bed, and a wardrobe built into the wall.
Slay took all of that in at a glance, but afterward, he only had eyes for Rowena.
“I stayed in a room like this in Hallowell,” she said wistfully, closing the door behind her with a quiet snick. “It was the first time I had a bed of my own.”
I want to give her the world.
The longing in his heart terrified him a bit because the strength of it could rend him asunder.
With wonder spilling through him, he kissed her cheeks, her brow, her chin, her nose.
Everything about her delighted him. He’d never met anyone so indomitable.
Before, he’d heard her standing up to Prince Alastor and the last of his doubts drifted away.
He’d feared that she might not want to admit her secret love for the prince who’d saved her—that he might be second best in her eyes—but when she demanded to be released from service, he could detect no yearning, no hint of regret.
Slay considered promising her so many things in that moment, but the words didn’t come.
Instead, he swept her up into his arms, because actions seldom failed him.
With a delighted smile, she snuggled close and let him carry her to bed.
He tumbled to the mattress with her, careful to let her land on top.
Even with desire burning him up, he would do nothing to startle her.
Half deranged with desire, he kissed Ro again and again, glorying in the feel of her skin.
Her smell cut through him, tightening his whole body with need.
Truly, he had no fucking idea how he’d survived so long without her. “If I don’t make you mine, I might go mad,” he said hoarsely.
“Then what are you waiting for?” Rowena whispered.