Embrace the Dark (The Blood Rose #1)(13)
Author: Caris Roane

He sighed when she drew back. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because I have seen how you care for your people and I appreciate what you do. I have known you long enough, Gerrod, to understand that there is no one to comfort you. So I thought, just this once, I would do what I could, with no plan in mind other than to give you what I can this dawn, maybe to comfort you, if I could. But please don’t worry. I have no purpose other than that, no hopes or intention for sharing a future with you. Rest assured, there is no obligation here except to enjoy the moment.”

He nodded, closed his eyes and sank beneath the water, a sort of baptism. When he came up, she had moved behind him, having taken the stool with her. She washed his hair and it was one of the finest sensations he had ever known, her fingers scrubbing his scalp and working the soap through the difficult length. He rinsed by dipping again, but before she could apply a most necessary crème rinse, he rose up out of the bath and gestured to the shower. “This is my preference, but the bath was perfection.”

She smiled. He began making his way to his shower and turned on all three shower heads. He stepped inside and shifted, only to find, much to his shock, that she had dispensed with her slip and her bra and was now stepping out of what looked like a beautiful black lace thong.

His body responded once more. Couldn’t be helped on so many levels. He’d been in battle. A woman was what he wanted.

She didn’t join him right away, however. Instead, she went to the sink and was busy there for about a minute. Curious, he watched her, as the vertical jets powered against the sore muscles of his back. She had a now damp thong in hand and hung it between two of the pegs on the wall where her gown and his coat hung.

His chest tightened. There was only one reason she would have done so, that she meant to spend the day in his bed. It was such a practical, womanly thing to do, the way a woman who ran a successful business would always be thinking one step ahead, what needed to be done next.

If he’d had any doubts about the scope of her intentions, they disappeared as she moved toward the shower, her chin high and her ni**les peaked.

What rose to the surface of his mind was simple. He had wanted her from the first moment he’d laid eyes on her and caught her delicate rosemary scent. He’d wanted her with a fervor that was even now beyond his comprehension.

He didn’t try to hide how aroused he was. But he was a big man so he supported all that purposeful weight as she stepped in beside him.

He gave her room so that she could dip beneath the spray. All her pretty curls had already given way to the difficulties of the night and now her makeup, too, drifted in the direction of the drain.

He moved away from her and took his time memorizing each curve, the shape of her br**sts, the exact pinkish hue of her areola, that her belly button seemed to collect the water before allowing it to flow down her abdomen and into the crease of her tender flesh. Her skin was milky, her legs shapely and long. Even her feet were pretty and he had a sudden desire to kiss them.

If he was to have only one night with her, then he would make the most of it.

She emerged from the spray and turned. She shampooed her hair and rinsed. He watched the bubbles float over her shoulders and down her arms. He became fascinated with how her br**sts moved and what they looked like when she lifted her arms to squeeze the water from her hair, to shake her locks with her fingers trying to get the soap out.

When she was satisfied, she reached for the crème rinse. She applied it to her hair and once it had reached the tips, she turned to him and smiled. “You’ll have to bend down a little. I’m not a short woman, but you’re damn tall.”

He smiled. My God, when was the last time he had smiled. His heart felt lighter. When had his heart ever felt lighter after a battle?

He had a sudden profound desire to find some place in the castle to keep her, to chain her up perhaps, so that whenever he needed to feel the weight of his responsibilities lift from his shoulders, he could go to her and she would make him smile.

He leaned over and she poured the crème rinse on his hair and worked it through every strand all the way to the ends as she had done her own hair.

He wanted to touch her, but she was all business. She rinsed her hair, then without a word, she left the shower. She dried off and wrapped her hair up, then simply padded from the bathroom, her bottom moving in the most exotic way as she disappeared from view.

Realizing he could no longer see her, that she had somehow escaped his touch, he felt panicky, afraid on some level that she would vanish. He almost stumbled from the shower and toweled off. He was still a bit damp in parts when he went into the bedroom.

He paused on the threshold. She was on the bed, the covers turned all the way back to the footboard, and still very naked. She was kneeling but sitting back on her heels. In front of her was a tray of fruit and cheese and two small glasses of white wine.

She had provided him an elegant feast. Did she understand what she was doing? What it meant to a man to have a woman feed him? Of course, she did own a bakery, so perhaps on a very intuitive level, she understood how critical it was to provide food to the community, even a realm community.

“Please, Gerrod, come and make yourself comfortable. If you don’t want to eat, you don’t have to, although there are other things besides these fruits and cheeses that might be equally palatable to you.”

He had lived a long time.

He had heard double entendres in every form imaginable.

Maybe it was because she was naked, or that she had brought him food to eat, but these words pleased him to no end, and once more brought him to attention.

Her gaze fell. He had to support himself as he walked. He thumbed the tip of his c**k and watched her eyes widen.

“I would feed you as well, Abigail, if it would please you.”

Her ni**les had become hard pebbles once more and a flush covered her cheeks. “I am very torn,” she said. “For these figs look wonderful. But on the other hand, I want nothing more than to be fed.” She unwound the towel from her damp curls and let it fall behind her.

“And so you shall be.” He crawled across the bed, careful not to disturb the tray. He drew up beside her on his knees.

She turned her shoulder into him and planted her hand on his thigh. She leaned just a little and parted her lips.

He tilted his pelvis and slipped his c**k into her mouth. He fed her slowly, one inch at a time. She didn’t suck but held her tongue beneath him and moved in a little erotic ripple. He groaned. He pulled out then pushed in again slowly. He met her gaze as she looked up at him.