Bite of Winter (Fae's Captive #3) - Lily Archer Page 0,9
me—”
“I will—” I press a finger to his lips.
“But he’s dead. And I don’t want to talk about him while I’m naked in the tub with you, okay?”
He opens his mouth to retort, but then snaps it shut. “I will respect your wishes, but one day soon you must tell me what happened to you. Why you went hungry, who hurt you—I want to know everything.”
I know what promises mean here, how unbreakable they are, but I make one all the same. “I swear I’ll tell you everything one day.”
“I’ll hold you to that, little one.” He gently turns me back around and rinses my hair, his touches immeasurably kind. Working up another lather, he runs his wide palms along my neck and then lower down my back. He kneads as he goes, and what little tension still resides inside me spills out into the clear, warm water.
“That feels so good.”
His low purr is instant.
“You’re like a cat. Why do you purr?”
“Not a cat.” He runs his thumbs in circles along my lower back. “It’s a high fae trait. A reminder of a time when we were more animal than anything else. Mostly, it’s a signal between mates.”
“A signal for what?” I realize the answer right as the question disappears into the air.
His low, sensual laugh surrounds me. “I think you know.”
“Yes.” I decide that maybe talking is a bad idea, especially when I’m tired and saying foolish things. Not because his touch is making me have filthy thoughts. Not because his purr is vibrating in all the right places. Not because, despite the impossibility of the situation, I want him.
He lathers up the soap once more and holds his hands in front of me. “May I? Not funny business, little one. Just getting you clean.”
Not funny business? He’s asking for what, second base? If that’s not funny business, then I don’t know what is. But would it be so bad to feel his touch all over me? He’s already worked wonders on my back.
I bite my lip and relax my shoulders. “Go ahead.”
“Are you certain?”
I know what he’s asking. “Yes.”
The purr increases as he soaps my shoulders, down to my collar bones, past my necklace, and then lower to the swells of my breasts. He goes agonizingly slow, sweeping his fingers back and forth across the tops of my breasts, the soap bubbles fanning out on top of the water. I can’t seem to focus on anything but his touch, the way the pads of his fingers are callused, the way he makes my breaths hitch and my core tighten with each pass. Can anticipation kill a person?
When his fingers finally brush my hard nipples, I moan. And when he cups my breasts in his palms and rubs the stiff peaks with his thumbs? I combust.
I dig my nails into his thighs and turn my head. “Leander.” I put everything I’m feeling into that one word, and he answers it like a prayer.
His mouth crashes into mine, taking, demanding. I part my lips, relishing the sweep of his tongue against mine as he keeps one hand at my breast while the other skirts down my stomach. I can’t think, can only feel, my desire like a flame burning too bright.
When his fingers delve lower, I allow him to spread my thighs apart.
“How you please me, little one,” he growls against my lips, then claims me in another fierce kiss.
I jolt when his fingertip presses against my most sensitive spot. With another little stroke, he has me melting for him. He twists my nipple as his fingers play beneath the water, and I let my legs fall open all the way, giving him access to the parts of me no one has ever touched before.
Our kiss deepens, his tongue caressing mine as my body tightens, my mind spins around the central contact of his hands on me. I’ve never done this with another person, and his fingers on me are so much more than anything I’ve done by myself. My entire consciousness folds in on itself, everything focused on the rising tide inside me, the heat that unfurls and turns every part of me molten.
My release comes from everywhere and nowhere all at once. My thighs shake, and I moan as I fall beneath waves of pleasure, my entire being swallowed up by the perfect bliss Leander has drawn from me so easily. Stars burst in my vision as I grip his arms and moan into his mouth.
More funny business,