Chapter 49 Steam and Surrender
STEAM AND SURRENDER
“You look like you’re about to collapse, Spitfire,” Daire says as I follow Kai, Lochlan, and Holden into Mysthaven.
Griffin appears from the kitchen, a cup of tea in his hands.
“We’re all off today?” I ask.
“Your—” Holden clears his throat. “Closeness is healing you faster than the teas and other remedies.”
My cheeks flame red, realizing what he’s insinuating.
“You responded to the springs in Portelina,” Daire adds. “We brought some of the minerals back to use in the baths here.”
I tense at the mention of the pools. I struggle to shower. There’s no way I can immerse myself in a pool.
“It’s entirely indoors,” Holden adds. “We’ve added so many runes and wards that no one outside of the Vestra can lift a single drop of water. Not even Scarlet.”
“I’m not worried about someone shifting water out of the pools,” I admit. It’s the idea of the water growing arms and trying to drown me that scares me senseless.
“We’ll be there with you,” Griffin promises. “Within arm’s reach at all times.”
Since the accident, I’ve needed more sleep—constantly achy and exhausted—feeling more human than Elemental.
Griffin nods, hearing my thoughts. He brushes a kiss against my hairline, his fingers ghosting across my arm. “We won’t let anything happen.”
“I need to change,” I say begrudgingly.
“We have a suit ready for you,” Daire says, weaving his fingers with mine.
“Let us know if you need anything. We’re going to check on how things in Faro are going, and then start mapping out our trip to Earth,” Lochlan says, turning in the opposite direction.
Daire and Griffin lead me to the staircase that goes down to the home gym.
We pass the rows of machines and mats, approaching the door at the far end that I’ve eyed more than once.
Griffin pushes it open, and we step into a space that reminds me a little of the grotto in Portelina.
The walls are carved into the bedrock, making me wonder if it’s older than the house.
Veins of pale mineral streak through the rock like frozen lightning, runes etched across their paths.
Low lanterns are set into shallow alcoves, muted, catching the steam curling off the water.
The room is bigger than the gym, bigger than the grotto, with the bath claiming most of the space.
Its edges curve organically, as though shaped by nature rather than hands or magic.
At the center is a raised circular dais, just above the waterline.
It feels like a sanctum.
“This is a bathing chamber?”
Griffin nods. “Soaking together is a tradition in mated Vestras.”
I hate how quickly my thoughts spiral, questioning why they have one if they didn’t believe they’d have a mate.
I pocket the question for when I have more time—energy—and follow them to the slab of rock carved into the wall, resembling a table. A lavender bikini waits for me.
“You can change behind here.” Griffin adjusts a metal screen, adorned with floral designs.
Modesty is a human trait; one I’ve struggled to shake despite everyone changing openly daily before Elemental Mastery.
I don’t try to change the habit now, taking the bathing suit and slipping behind the screen.
I remove my shoes and pants slowly, woodenly, my muscles all sore.
Despite my aches, the idea of getting into the water is less appealing by the second.
I pull on the bottoms and curse Gwen, knowing she selected the suit that covers less than my underwear, before swapping my top. The triangles don’t fully cover my breasts.
I try to muster every ounce of confidence as I step out from behind the screen with my clothes neatly folded.
Griffin and Daire stand by the edge of the pool, dragging their gazes over me with a level of intensity that has my pulse hammering. I resist the urge to fidget as I set my clothes on the table.
Each step closer to the water makes me more unsettled.
Griffin holds out his hand in offering, not a demand but a silent request to trust him. I slip my palm into his, my skin warming and lungs expanding as I do.
“How deep is it?”
“Six feet at the far end. Most of it’s shallow.” Daire steps in, proving the bottom is secure as the water rises to his shins. “There are benches in the middle, around the raised platform.” He motions toward the strange, raised area that had been in the grotto at Portelina as well.
Still holding my hand, Griffin steps into the water, his pace slow, allowing me to move at my own comfort.
The first touch of heated water against my foot sends memories crashing through my thoughts—cold, pressure, the pull of something that wanted to drag me under.
Griffin shifts closer instantly. “You’re doing great, baby.”
Daire’s hand closes around mine. Solid. Unmoving.
They don’t urge me forward. They don’t rush me. They simply stay—heat and strength bracketing me—until my breathing steadies enough for me to take the next step on my own.
“That’s it,” Daire murmurs, brushing a hand over the length of my waist, his lips ghosting over my temple before he pulls away fractionally, sitting on one of the raised seats.
My muscles remain contracted as I sit beside him, taking in the solid structure as I graze my fingers across the slightly rough surface.
Griffin sits on my other side, close, but not nearly close enough. He traces a pattern over the surface, and my muscles slowly melt.
“What’s the raised platform for?” I ask, glancing behind us as the water laps across it, not even an inch deep.
Griffin wipes a hand across his mouth, considering his words only for a beat. “Sex and intimacy.” He glances at the raised area. “Traditionally, you’d enter the baths naked, and your bonds would soak as they took turns worshipping you.”
My pulse beats between my legs, low and deep, the imagery flashing through my mind unbidden—me laid bare, stretched over the stones, Griffin’s mouth on me as Daire spreads my thighs, keeping me still.
A low growl rumbles in Griffin’s chest, his pupils blown out, jaw tight as he drags his gaze over my face before I can snap my shields into place.
“Fuck,” Daire breathes out, running a wet hand over his hair. “Your desire is so damn potent it’s hard to think straight.”
Embarrassment steals my reply, heat burning my cheeks.
Daire’s wet fingers skate up my neck, tilting my chin toward him. His lips hover, a breath away from mine.
They’re too close, too warm, too tempting. I can’t remember why I’m concerned or doubtful of the bond, don’t know why I’m not already on the dais, begging them to make this ache go away.
I don’t move.
My breath becomes labored as Griffin runs his fingers over my shoulder, ghosting across my throat as Daire’s hand skims down my stomach, stopping at my bikini line.
They’re waiting.
“Tell us,” Griffin murmurs, skimming his nose across my cheek. “Let us hear you say it.” His breath fans against my cheek, teasing, coaxing, but beneath is a plea.
Daire runs his fingers across my spine, making the ache unbearable. My body craves them. Needs them. Wants them.
I close my eyes, torn between hesitation and hunger. “I want to feel you. Both of you.”
Griffin curses, moving before I can take my next breath, dragging me onto his lap so that I face him. I feel the impossibly long, hard length of him under me, as Daire stands behind me, his fingers brushing and soothing my skin.
“I need to see those perfect fucking tits,” Griffin says, scraping his teeth over my neck.
“We’re not destroying this suit,” Daire says, pulling the bow around my neck free. The sides slip down without any help, exposing my breasts, heavy with need, my nipples stiff peaks.
Griffin doesn’t hesitate, sucking a nipple into his mouth. I sigh, my relief palpable.
Daire hums as he reaches around, grazing his fingers across my breast, so light it’s a whisper against my skin. “That’s it, Spitfire,” he murmurs, pinching my nipple. “So fucking responsive.”
A whimper escapes before I can swallow it, and Griffin’s grip tightens, guiding me forward, rubbing his length over me as his tongue lashes at my nipple.
I arch as my thighs tighten around him.
“You’re burning up, baby,” Daire says. His hands flex against my waist before dragging a finger along my inner thigh, following the cut of my bathing suit. Once. Twice, then he pulls it to one side, the water cold against my most sensitive area.
A sharp gasp rips from me that has Griffin pulling away from my breast to capture. I meet each thrust of his tongue as Daire teases my clit in slow circles, allowing me to bask in this moment of lust.
Griffin runs a thumb across my nipple as he continues kissing me, tasting me, claiming my mouth as desire builds, becoming a frantic feeling that has me grinding against Daire’s fingers.
Then a pulse of water hits me against my clit that has me going nearly cross-eyed. The sensation licks up my thighs, teasing and devouring me while Daire spreads me fully.
“Relax, Spitfire,” he whispers against my ear, though there’s nothing soothing about what Griffin does next. The water tightens around that nub of nerves, dragging liquid silk over my clit, the sensation so intense, my breaths become gasps.
Griffin angles his head, kissing me harder as a sense of urgency runs through me that has my back arching further.
“Stars,” Daire groans, gripping my breast while flicking my clit as the water continues its ministrations. “The sounds you make are like a fucking drug.”
I can’t make a tangible word, moaning as he teases me and the water licks at me, the tandem of pleasure bliss that doesn’t last nearly long enough as a shockwave of pleasure tears through me. Griffin deepens the kiss, while Daire strokes me, drawing out my pleasure until I’m trembling and boneless.
Griffin kisses me again, a gentle brush before drawing me deeper into his arms, where I remain our bare chests pressed together as I try to remember how to breathe—remember if I can without them.