When he worked his way up to my ankle, I let out a soft moan, then immediately tried to jerk my foot from his grasp. He held tight, using all his fingers to release the tension from my ankle and lower calf. It felt so good, I could’ve melted into the bath.
Which was unacceptable.
I glared at him. “I should kill you now and be done with it.”
He gave me a wicked smile. “Ah, but then you’d have to go to sleep unsatisfied.” His hands slid a little higher, brushing the back of my knee with each pleasurable long stroke up my calf.
“As though you could satisfy me, Saxon.”
He moved one of my legs to his other side so he was sitting between my calves, and then he began to rub my other foot. When he worked his way up to my ankle and then my calf, I held my breath, knowing that this time, he was close enough to reach my center if he chose to go higher.
The feral look in his eyes only fed the crackling fire of lust he’d ignited with his touch. “Allow me to try. If I fail, you have only to give the order, and I’ll walk to the highest parapet tonight and make sure every guard on duty sees me throw myself from it. You’ll be rid of me, and no one will be able to punish you for it.”
He stroked the back of my knee with his clever thumbs, and it was all I could do not to groan.
“Satisfy me or die?” I couldn’t hold back a smile. The idea awakened the brutal queen within me whom I constantly had to restrain. But not with him. He’d just blithely invited her into the bath with us.
Why deny myself this pleasure? It wouldn’t change how I felt about him.
“Fine. But only with your hands.”
His white teeth flashed in a wolfish grin, but his expression turned serious when he placed a palm on each of my knees and slowly brushed them both higher onto my thighs.
I was a master of controlling my body, but the anticipation was so torturous that I had to bite the inside of my cheek to not thrash my hips. I wanted to snatch his hands and put them exactly where I needed them. But that would give away how much I craved this.
He swept his hands higher, letting his fingertips just barely part my folds before moving back down my thigh in a downward stroke. He did this again and again, getting a little closer each time. I craned my neck up to watch him through the water, sure the next stroke would bring him to the very apex, but he swept down again before he got there. I let my head fall back in frustration, smacking it on the edge of the bath.
“That won’t do,” he murmured, releasing his hold on my thighs entirely to move to one side of my body. “I won’t have you saying you were unsatisfied because you didn’t have anywhere to rest your head. Here,” he said, gently nudging my body away from the edge so he could get behind me. “Let me make it more comfortable for you.”
Before I could object, he’d positioned me with my back against his front, letting my head lean on his chest and not the hard tub. His legs on either side of mine kept me steady, so I didn’t even have to hold myself up anymore. I could truly just relax.
Or I might’ve been able to relax if I weren’t nestled into a big Saxon body, all too aware of his hard cock tucked against my lower back, thinking about what he might’ve done with that cock if I hadn’t limited him to his hands.
Before I could think too much about it, his strong fingers massaged my hips, melting away the tension there too. It felt incredible, but it wasn’t what I yearned for.
“Afraid you won’t accomplish your task? Maybe I should simply give the order now so I can go back to bathing alone.”
His chuckle rumbled against my back. He cupped my mound firmly, and it was all I could do not to moan. “We both know what you want right now isn’t my death.”
He curled his fingers down so they parted my folds, then pushed inside me while he ground the heel of his hand over the epicenter of my pleasure. Waves of need rippled out from that spot. It felt good, but it was too soft a sensation, serving only to drive my desire higher without pushing me towards a climax.
“More,” I demanded, arching against him, pushing his fingers deeper inside me. He wrapped his legs over mine to anchor me to him, trapping me against his body. I might’ve objected if he hadn’t chosen that moment to adjust his hand so his fingers stayed inside me but two fingers of his other hand could rub my clitoris in circles, unleashing the moan I’d been restraining.
His groan vibrated against my back. “Mmm, that’s it, wife—teach me how you like it.”
My voice came out husky and low. “Call me ‘wife’ again, and this ends, Prince.”
He hooked his fingers inside me and thrust them against the place that made me lose all reason. “I hate being the prince more than you hate being my wife. Keep calling me ‘Prince,’ and I’ll keep reminding you that you’re married to one.”
I thrashed against him, but we both knew I wasn’t truly trying to break his hold. Damn him, I wanted the release he promised.
“You’ll be punished for your disrespect later,” I snapped, but there was no heat to it.
“Oh, I’m counting on it,” he said as he sunk a third finger into me and circled faster.
I made a ragged sound, then surrendered to the sensation, letting my head relax back against his chest. He stoked the embers of lust into a conflagration that seemed to lick at my insides, melting away everything but him. I didn’t have to think nor fight nor do anything but lie there and let him pleasure me.
“Good girl,” he growled. He was either brave or stupid. No one had ever spoken to me like that, and the worst part was that it made my stomach flip with want.
