pull him to kiss me, but Christian had the will of an oak tree and stood firm.
He stared at my stab wound. “I can’t give you my blood when you’re like this. You’ll have to heal in the morning.”
“Blood,” I whispered, reaching for his neck again. Memories of his sinful blood filled my mind—that erotic taste to which nothing compared.
Christian led me into the standing shower and turned on the water. I grimaced when the water chilled my skin like ice pellets. Within moments, it went from ice to fire, and steam fogged up the shower door. Christian stepped inside, fully dressed, and washed my bloody arm. Unable to stand another second, I backed up and sat down in the corner seat, my legs spread wide.
He knelt in front of me, the water beating against his back, and lathered soap in his hands. He worked that soap up my calves, behind my knees, across my thighs, and over my hips. The suds turned pink as they washed away the dried blood that painted my body. When his fingers grazed between my legs, I shivered and reached for him.
“Why can’t I tempt you?”
He rapidly moved his hands upward and washed every inch of my body. “You smell like the floor of a pub.”
Droplets of water clung to his face and beard. I couldn’t take my eyes off his wet lips. Christian had such a soft and demanding kiss—a kiss that could make a woman forget all others before him.
I ran my fingers through his wet hair. “Kiss me.”
His eyes fell to my breasts. “Jaysus wept. You’ll be the ruin of me.” Christian leaned in and gazed deep into my eyes. It made my heart flutter. After pouring shampoo in his hands, he lathered my hair, starting from the nape. “Raven?”
“Yes?” I hissed.
He blinked and shot to his feet. “Never mind. Stand up.”
I did as he commanded. It felt as if we were dancing as he turned us until the water struck my back. I reclined my head while he rinsed the shampoo out, but my hands fastidiously worked to unlatch his belt.
It became a race as to who would finish their task first. Christian poured too much conditioner in his hands and quickly ran it through my hair. When I’d gotten the belt free, I shoved my hands inside his pants and felt the blunt head of his hard cock.
A low rumble settled in his chest as he rinsed my hair. He wanted this just as much as I did. When I popped the button open on his trousers, he lifted me up and stepped out of the shower.
Christian toweled me, and I suddenly felt like a car going through a car wash. I was his puppet as he put my arms through the robe sleeves, tied the belt, and dried my hair. When my forearm started bleeding again, he took off his shirt and ripped it into long strips. I should have felt the pain when he wrapped it around my arm and made a knot, but I didn’t. Why was he stalling? Didn’t he realize how much I craved him?
Then he lifted me straight up as if I weighed nothing and entered the bedroom. When we reached the bed by the windows, he set me down on the comforter.
I locked my fingers behind his neck and pulled him toward me. “I need you.”
“What you need is sleep.”
“Please fuck me, Christian.”
His eyes fluttered, and he sat down. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”
I loosened the belt on my robe and exposed myself to show him how serious I was. “Please.”
“I’ll not do it.”
When I saw he was serious, I beat my fists against his chest. “You fanghole! You don’t love me—you only love yourself. Why did you even come for me? Why didn’t you just leave me there? This is torture. Is that what gets you off? Watching me suffer?”
He tenderly tucked a swath of hair behind my ear. “I’m sorry you’re vexed, but I’ll not take you in this condition. You’re not yourself.”
“Get out.”
“I’m not leaving you here alone. Of that you can be sure.”
Incensed, I shut my eyes. Sexual images flooded my mind, and all my anger floated away in a bubble. I forgot Christian. I forgot the hotel. I forgot everything. All I wanted was to release all this desire. My fingers slid between my legs, between and inside the wet folds. With my eyes closed, sexual images and sensations consumed me, and I experienced each encounter