Her eyes were probing his, trying to dig deeper into his soul. “What would happen if you broke with tradition?”
He smiled darkly. He wouldn’t have guessed she was a romantic. He felt her foot against his thigh and claimed it. “My life is not the one that matters, Elia. It is everyone I’m responsible for. From those who live on my land to the ones who work in the castle. I care about their welfare.”
Her eyes softened measurably.
“What I said pleases you.” He started to massage her foot.
“Getting to know you pleases me,” she said on a smile.
“I can’t believe I’ve said as much as I have. It is not my usual way.”
“Does it make you uncomfortable?”
“I’m not sure.” It was an honest answer. All he had. “What of you? Tell me about you.”
A sudden shadow moved across her features, and her gaze dropped to the water. “You didn’t bring me here to talk, did you?”
Her abrupt change confused him. No, he hadn’t brought her here to sit in a bathtub, naked, and talk. Most assuredly because before this moment he’d wouldn’t have conceived of it. But he would be lying if he said he hadn’t found the whole thing strangely enjoyable. Even though some subjects were difficult to discuss.
“I have told you much about me,” he said, pushing her a little. “I want to know you, Elia. Where are you from? Do you have family? Is there—”
She didn’t let him finish. She eased her foot from his grip and scrambled to her feet. Bathwater spilled over the sides of the tub. “I think I’m done with the bath, my lord.”
Cas sat up, and for one brief moment, he wondered why she had become so agitated. Why she didn’t want to share anything about herself. But the thoughts quickly died. She stood before him, dripping bathwater, her * just inches from his face.
His nostrils flared. “Don’t move,” he said on a growl.
“But I’m done. I’m soaking wet.”
“Not nearly wet enough. Now, spread your legs for me, Elia.”
~
Her back to the soft down comforter and Casworon Trevanion looming over her, moving in and out of her body.
That was what she’d imagined would happen this night.
And it had been a good fantasy. One that had gotten her through many a lonely, tired night as she found a moment of privacy curled up next to the kitchen’s fireplace in the castle.
“Legs apart, Elia,” he commanded, more fiercely this time.
But this… She shuffled her feet out until they touched the sides of the tub. This she couldn’t have fathomed. This was the stuff of novels or things the Temple Blades would speak of in hushed tones at night as they shared their latest conquests and secret assignations.
She glanced down. In the warm, soothing light of the many candles situated about the room, Casworon looked terrifyingly handsome. Naked and aroused, he sat there, eyes pinned to her sex, the demon that rumbled inside him near to his thickly muscled skin.
Her insides clenched with longing. To have this male even once…it would be a dream come true. One only her heart had made.
“You are very beautiful, Elia,” he said, his breath fanning her heated skin. “Pink, wet…but not wet enough to please me.” He glanced up, his amethyst eyes a blaze of predatory hunger. “Do you want to please me?”
She nodded, breathless. Was she really to stand here? Let him look at her? Let him…
A grin split his features and he said in a hard voice, “I want you to touch yourself, my lady.”
Shock barreled through her. She couldn’t possibly have heard him right. She’d been deep in thought, struggling with questions. But then he said it again.
“You wish to please me, yes?” he asked. “Do it. Touch yourself.”
“But I thought—”
“That I would be touching you?” he asked, brow arched. “Oh, I will be. But first I want to see…I want to know what you like…how your body responds…”
Was it possible for a person to feel both embarrassment and shattering lust? Lia forced out a bleak, “But…I…I can’t—”
“You can and you will,” he growled, then dropped back to recline against the tub. His arms went behind his head, which made his already wide and heavily muscled chest expand. “If you want my hands on you tonight, yours must come first.”
Her cheeks flamed, and her breath was coming in shallow pants. Could she? The old Lia would, her mind whispered. The old Lia would take this challenge and run. Moan. Cry out. Jump.
So be the Blade you once were. She’s still in there, still inside you.
Brave.
Raw.