Captive of Wolves (Bound to the Fae #1) - Eva Chase Page 0,64

to hold on tight; I want to let go. I’m not sure which of those impulses even makes sense.

The heady surge of sensation seems to reach its peak. It continues radiating through me with the lick of the current against my sex, gripping me with a demand I don’t know how to fulfill. I need more. There’s something just beyond my reach. My whole body quakes with the longing, but I have no idea how to get there.

The need is desperate enough to cut through my embarrassment. My voice comes out hoarse. “August, I— I don’t know— It’s not enough—”

He manages to piece together that frantic jumble well enough to figure out what I’m asking. “You could add your hand?” he suggests, low and rough, as if he’s as affected as I am.

I shift my weight so one elbow can hold me up and dip the other arm beneath the water. My fingertips glide over the spot just above my folds, and my body lights up as if I’ve struck a match inside me. Oh, yes, that’s it.

I press against my hand, my breath spilling over the tiles, my hips straining to reach that higher peak I haven’t yet discovered but can sense lies so, so close. The pleasure blazes through me faster.

Closing my eyes, I find myself imagining August is standing in the warmth of the water beside me, that it’s his hand stroking over me. His fingers exploring this tender part of me.

The thrill of that idea sweeps me to even greater heights. My breath shudders. I rub myself with a little jerk, the current still gushing against me, and it’s like a firework erupts from within. It bursts through my body, shocking a cry from my throat and quivering across every nerve.

In the aftermath, I sag against the pool wall. The bliss fades, but echoes of it still ripple through me. I feel wrung out with delight, all that urgency released—and yet a pang rises up inside me with the desire to do it all over again.

Did the release make the feelings August was trying to help me work through better or worse? I can’t tell. But, oh, I don’t think I can say I regret it either way.

“Talia?” August says tentatively, bringing my attention out of my body. How long have I been floating there, reveling in the moment?

I lift my head and drop my feet to rest them on the pool floor. “I’m fine. I’m… good.”

That simple statement must convey a lot more than just the words, because August’s response comes out so heated it sends a tingle straight to my core. “I’m glad to hear that.”

He must have heard a lot. I made at least a few sounds during that… interlude, or whatever I should call it.

A fresh flush creeps across my cheeks, but it’s not quite as intense as before. Apparently I’ve burned through some of my capacity for mortification.

I glide through the water to the steps and clamber out. While I towel myself off and dress, August stays behind the screen, but every particle of my body is aware of him there. Everywhere fabric grazes my skin, new tingles race through me.

He was on the other side of the room, he couldn’t even see me, but somehow it feels as if he really was right there with me, boosting me to pinnacles of pleasure I’d never imagined.

When I’m dressed and strapped into my foot brace, I tug at the hem of my shirt, anxious about looking him in the face after all that. “I’m done.”

August steps out, his eyes smoldering the moment they meet mine. For a second, I can’t breathe.

He walks over to me like he’s stalking his prey. I brace myself automatically, but I find I’m not actually scared of him. Even if I should be.

He stops a couple of feet away, his muscles flexing with restrained power. If anything, his gaze has only gotten more intense. I’m caught in his golden stare. It doesn’t feel like such a bad place to be. A flicker of my earlier giddiness returns, coursing through me from head to toe.

August licks his lips, and my gaze follows the movement. “I thought giving you an outlet would make resisting easier,” he says in that same low, strained tone. “It turns out I was wrong. You have no idea how badly I want a taste of you—just one.”

As if the words are a magnet tuned to me, my body sways toward him unbidden. His control