Threads of Desire (Spellcraft) - By Stone, Eleri Page 0,11

to her, hands open at his sides, head bowed and breath shallow. She liked the way the firelight touched his forearms. She’d never realized how erotic that part of a man’s body was. The way the muscles there wrapped the bone, the slight bulge of vein and light covering of hair.

When she touched his shoulder again, the muscle beneath her fingertips twitched. She wasn’t the only one affected by this, and that knowledge emboldened her. She skated her fingers down the long muscles of his back, cupped the curve of his ass, let her thumbs stroke the crevice between those firm round cushions of flesh. She slipped one hand around to his front to see if he was hard. He was, good sized, thick and warm. The smooth skin slid beneath her palm as she stroked him. She palmed the cool weight of his sac and felt the vibration there when he laughed.

“You’re very bold, Ily.”

“You’re surprised?”

“You’ve done nothing but surprise me from the moment I set eyes on you.”

He was a fine specimen of a man. Tight abdomen. Broad chest. Narrow hips. She pressed her mouth to his skin just to breathe him in. He smelled of scented oil, bergamot and sandalwood. Clean skin. Fresh sweat.

“I’d like a bath.”

He turned and she allowed him to do so. “There’s one in the next room. The servants have standing orders to prepare one nightly. It should be ready now.”

Such luxury and he took it for granted. “Will you join me?”

“If you’d like.” His voice was husky, his erection bounced against her hip when he stepped forward to press his hand to the small of her back. “This way.”

Steam curled from the door when he opened it but didn’t obscure the enormous square-shaped bath set in the center of the small room. It was nearly as big as the public baths that could be shared by a dozen men. Two tiled steps led up to a small dais. She couldn’t guess how many buckets it would take to fill the monstrous thing. And they prepared this for him alone nightly?

“It’s a southern design one of my clients installed for me. There are pipes that pass from the kitchens to fill it. You simply turn that spigot,” he pointed to a brass fixture, “and the water empties into the basin. The other rotates the drain plug to empty it.”

She cleared her throat. “That’s terribly clever.”

“I thought so.”

Windows lined one wall, but the curtains had all been drawn. A line of interestingly shaped glass bottles, all in jeweled hues, were set on one edge of the tub. Kal’s hands kneaded her shoulders and he seemed content to wait for her direction. His thumbs stroked the base of her neck, slipped just inside the gap at the back of her tunic before skimming back up her spine. It was a simple tunic; she hadn’t wanted to waste her money on useless trim or even a single crude wooden button to close the neck. She crossed her arms and reached for the hem, lifting it smoothly over her head, gratified by the sound Kal made behind her, somewhere between a grunt and a sigh.

He pushed her skirts from her hips, one of his big hands splaying low on her abdomen as he steadied her. She stepped free when he released her and placed her foot on the first stair. Goose bumps rose over her exposed skin at the sudden heat that wrapped around her feet. She didn’t turn around until she was standing waist deep in the water.

Kal remained where he’d left her. When she turned, his gaze lifted slowly from her breasts to her face. “May I?”

Strange to have him ask, but she was quickly losing pleasure in this game. It wasn’t his meekness that had convinced her to stay. It wasn’t his palace or this inarguably glorious bath. She’d humbled him, but it had only skewed the balance in the opposite direction. And that was false. She could pretend all she wanted, punish him as harshly as he could bear, and he still held all the power. She wished she could forget that even for a night. She sank into the water, her hair spreading around her.

“I don’t need a servant,” she said, meeting that hot gaze. “Join me if you like...or not. Your choice.”

He didn’t hesitate. She liked the way the muscles of his thighs moved as he walked, the taut skin above the jut of his cock that gave way to muscle.