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. She watched the water swallow him until only his upper chest and shoulders were exposed, and then he settled back on the submerged ledge opposite her.
“What do you want?” he asked.
“A bath.”
He smiled, a slight knowing curve to his mouth that had always fascinated her. There was something self-mocking about his smile, as if he knew how ridiculous the role he played was. A trap, that smile, because it made her want to like him. To think there was more to him than there really was.
“You already have your bath.”
“And you clearly underestimate its value.”
“Perhaps.”
She reached for the red bottle, water sluicing from her arm, and he came closer. His movement made the water rock, exposing her nipples and making them pebble.
His hand closed around hers, prying the bottle from her hand. “Please, let me.”
She raised her brows. “You’re protective of your bath oils.”
A faint flush stole across his cheeks, but it might have been the heat. “This one is patchouli. I think...” He reached past her to lift a bottle so deeply blue it was almost purple. He removed the stopper and held it a few inches below her nose. “Rock rose. It suits you.”
She nodded and he tipped the bottle, letting the clear liquid pool in his hand. “Allow me?”
She stood and he knelt, sliding his palms together and smoothing the oil down her arms first, shoulders to fingertips in a cool glide. The scent engulfed her, rich and pure. Why would he think something so tantalizing suited someone like her? It didn’t matter. Enjoy the moment. Don’t think.
She closed her eyes. Her chest, her breasts seemed to deserve extra attention. He pressed his mouth to her belly before covering that too. With a crystalline ring, the glass knocked against another when he replaced the bottle. “Turn.”
He brushed the damp strand of hair from her shoulders and moved his hands down her back, over her buttocks, the backs of her thighs. Another pass and the side of his hand split through her folds. She sucked in a mouthful of steam and he chuckled. She hadn’t imagined he’d bathe her there. But he did, then delved deeper with his fingers, pushing his hand between her thighs, stroking her from front to back while she stood there trembling. Again. The tip of his finger brushed her clit but withdrew far too quickly. He explored her, deftly, thoroughly, and the oil coating his skin and hers made every sensation both more exquisite and more frustrating. She needed more.
He drew her back into his arms, into the water, kissing her shoulder as he whispered in her ear. “Here?” He rocked his erection against her, nestling it in the crack of her buttocks. “Or my bed?”
“Not yet. I haven’t washed my hair.”
She laughed at the expression on his face because it was nearly that hard for her as well. But if she was to bathe like an aristo only once in her lifetime, she would do it properly. Tonight wasn’t about sampling the pleasures of his life in tidy sips and bites. It wasn’t about promise or restraint. She intended to gorge herself on every sensation in greedy gulps, enough to satisfy this desire, enough to sicken her.
To Kal’s credit, he didn’t argue, only reached for a pale blue bottle and poured a
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