The soft click of a door and the murmur of voices broke through Claire’s dream. The same dream she’d had before, of something buried deep in the earth and footsteps sounding, just off to the side, where she couldn’t see.
Strange, that she’d slept so soundly. Normally, the smallest noise or even change in smell would awaken her. Yet while beside Theo, in his bed, she’d felt so content, so safe, she’d sunk down into a level where nothing disturbed her.
The dream footsteps had merged into the sound of real ones approaching on soft flooring. She lay on her side, covered with a sheet pulled up to her waist. Through her eyelids, she saw a shadow arrive, then loom closer. She tensed until the heavy scent of the shadow told her this was Theo.
Theo: male, glorious, and last night they’d made love. More accurately, he’d possessed her body and done what he’d wanted. Delicious. Remembering everything made her feel like wriggling.
The familiar throb returned to her groin.
Lips softly kissed her bruised ones. “Time to wake,” Theo said. “It’s past dawn.” The sheet slipped away as he smoothed his hand down her arm to the dip of her waist.
She rolled over onto her back and smiled up at him. The neck of his silver-gray dressing gown showed a tempting V of bare chest. When in her life had she ever woken up with a man hovering over her, his eyes simmering with lust? She reached with both hands and pulled his head close again, kissing him back, enjoying the yield of skin on skin.
“I could eat you,” she whispered.
“Aah, but that’s my job. We need to get this off you.” Moving the hand on her stomach lower, he tugged at something. A jolt of pleasure ran up from her *.
She glanced down and saw the satin corset, his hand tucked into the pearls dipping between her legs. “I’m still wearing—” She blushed.
“Yes.” He grinned. “You are. You dirty woman. But I like it. Come!” He took her legs and pulled her to the side, until she had to sit up or risk falling to the floor on her bottom. “Up, up, up! The bath is filled with hot water. There’s soap and fresh towels, and…I’m going to watch.” He paused and eyed her upper thigh. “Those stitches look ready to come out. That’s a better result than the galvanic treatment usually gives.”
The skin beneath the line of black sutures was pink and clean.
“I heal easily.” Yet it stirred her to unease. Here was another thing that made her different. Nothing could ever change her nature.
The bathroom was on a scale with his bedroom—large and luxurious. Two bronze sculptures of flamingos guarded a huge round bathtub with gold feet. Half the tub sat embedded into a raised tiled area coming out from the wall. She’d never seen anything like it.
At first, Theo sprawled on a red divan, watching with hooded eyes as she stripped off the corset, bracelets, and choker. Feeling suddenly shy, she stepped into the steaming water.
Though the heat made her gasp, she quickly lowered herself. The bubbles in the water clung to the sides of her breasts.
A thought struck her. “Who filled this?”
“Kirsten. She takes care of my room. You’ll meet her eventually. Why?”
She sank deeper, head back; water lapped at her ears, muffling sound. “She didn’t see…anything?”
“Like your half-naked body?” he drawled, then rose from the couch and walked over. She felt like some water creature eyeing a predator. “I threw the sheet over you.”
Efficiently, he shed his dressing gown. His erection stood out as proudly as the one on the sculpture on the stairs, the muscles of his stomach and chest rippling as he moved. That telltale arrow of hair led the eye to his groin. Trying not to stare and only partly succeeding, she moved to one side, sending water sloshing. Every movement of Theo’s signaled determination—she had a suspicion no wasn’t going to work at the moment.
With the water around his thighs, he looked like some god risen from the depths of a sea.
Seeing his gaze drift lower, she looked down to see her exposed breasts shining with moisture and bubbles. “Um. I thought I was getting clean?”
“You look very clean to me. Come here.” He beckoned, then sat on the edge of the tub. His cock was straight and thick, and almost long enough to touch his belly button—she’d had that inside her last night?
Any thought of not going to him vanished. She waded over on her knees, sliding across the porcelain. She couldn’t help looking at him, at his cock. Last night, buried under the avalanche of her awakening feelings, she’d barely had time to study his body.