Bound by Forever - (True Immortality #3) Page 0,79
want her to notice his very male reaction to her.
But as he stripped and stepped into the shower, his erection raged fierce and strong. The water sluiced down his body, and he felt it course over his skin like fingers. His every nerve ending was on fire with feeling. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt like this.
He wanted Niamh.
He’d wanted her from the moment he’d touched her.
It only made sense that days (which felt like months) of repressing his response to her would finally get the better of him when his defenses were lowered by being back in Tokyo.
Still, it was typical that once she’d put herself completely out of his reach with her little speech about them not being friends, he’d start to lose control over his attraction for her. People were fucked up that way. Even werewolves.
Turning the jets up on the shower so Niamh wouldn’t hear, he closed his eyes, wrapped his hand around his dick, and went somewhere in his head he promised to forget about later.
Somewhere dark and hot and pulsing.
Somewhere deeply satisfying.
Somewhere with Niamh.
When he came, it was long and hard and he grit his teeth to swallow the loud groan of release that had swelled inside him. Kiyo sagged against the wet tiled wall and let out a huff of disbelief.
As hard as he’d just come … it wasn’t enough.
Damn her.
“Aren’t you wondering how I dried my hair so fast?” she asked with a teasing smile as they took the elevator down to the hotel’s ground floor.
Still taken aback by his uncontrolled physical response to her, Kiyo grunted in response.
“I used magic. I can use magic to clean myself too. Sometimes I do. But there’s nothing like the feeling of a hot shower.”
He shot her a suspicious look. Why was she rambling about the shower? Had she heard him in there? Was she teasing him?
Niamh stared back at him with innocent eyes. “That’s the thing about magic. I can do practically anything with it, but sometimes doing it the human way is actually more satisfying.”
Why did everything she say suddenly sound sexual?
It wasn’t her. It was him.
He cleared his throat, trying to think of something that would distract him. “No more visions?”
“You’d know if there were,” she replied dryly, following him out of the elevator and to the lobby.
He grunted again before gesturing to the valet to hail them a cab.
“I was reading the pamphlets in the room about places to visit, and I’d really love to go to Akihabara.”
She would want to go to the one place they couldn’t. “Off limits. Vamp coven territory.”
As a taxi pulled up, Niamh grumbled, “Bloody vamps always spoil everything.”
Kiyo scooted into the car behind her after tipping the valet and directed the driver to the market.
“We could still go and just be careful,” Niamh said.
“What?”
“Akihabara.”
“No. It’s not about that. There’s an agreement between them and the Iryoku.” He lowered his voice. “No wolves allowed.”
Her brow puckered. “But I’m not a wolf.”
“You’re not going anywhere in this city without me.”
“Kiyo, I was taking care of myself long before you showed up.”
“My city, my rules.” Part of him said it just because he knew it would piss her off.
Sure enough, she bristled. “I’ll go if I want.”
“Have you forgotten how you smell?” he said softly, trying to tame the burst of possessive territorialism that he knew was natural to most wolves but had never been to him. Until now.
Niamh sighed but said no more on the subject. Instead she turned her attention to the window, taking in the city with her usual wide-eyed wonder.
It didn’t take long to reach the market.
Kiyo placed his hand on Niamh’s lower back without thought to guide her, but her cropped shirt meant his palm hit silken skin. His fingers flexed as electricity tingled up his arm. Niamh stiffened and shot him a look, as if she felt it too.
Deciding it was safer not to touch her, he nudged her forward and let his arm fall to his side. The market was comprised of narrow walkways, crowded in on either side with stalls and restaurants with overhanging awnings. The buildings were crammed together, ramshackle and higgledy-piggledy but with their own sense of history and thus order. Smoke and spice and the tangy scent of miso assaulted them, and Kiyo explained what was on offer at each stall. The brunch and early lunch crowds meant the market was packed, its soundtrack one of indistinguishable layers of conversation.