The man’s low chuckle brought her back in an instant, the languid darkness in his gaze all the more disturbing before he turned and quit the room. Though he didn’t go far, his heavy boots clomping around her chambers where he started pawing through her things.
Fire simmering in her cheeks, Aida recoiled from the frigid weight of Immari’s damning glare. Shuffling upright, she couldn’t help the bow of her spine or the way she shivered with the lapping waves of sensation teasing at her. She didn’t even voice a complaint as Immari brought the coarse pumice down on Aida’s shoulders, scrubbing over the yet healed welts. Whatever the man had used to heal her didn’t appear to work as fast as Otaso’s methods, leaving the pained red lines abraded by Immari’s rough scouring. Which made little sense, considering how easy it was for him to prepare the bath. He had the power to stop Aida’s pain, but hadn’t. Perhaps he wanted her to feel this particular agony, to maybe even carry the marks from the whole ordeal though he’d seemed so angry when she’d called for her guardian. Demanding she never utter Otaso’s name again, it would be impossible to not have his memory plague her every time she looked at herself.
Immari remained silent with lips puckered and brow tight, washing Aida with cruel efficiency. With no leniency to the injuries, she went over every inch to buff Aida’s skin smooth. Ignoring the little grunts and breathy huffs, the strained lines of Aida’s neck and shoulders as she dragged the sturdy wooden comb through tangles and snarled knots as if she were intent on ripping the whole lot free.
It was on Aida’s quiet whimper as one knot pulled free with a vicious ripping sound to dangle in a clumped and dingy mess from the comb that the man returned. Amber eyes alight, he came into the bathing chamber with little regard to Aida’s plight. He didn’t descend upon her as she worried he might. Instead he went to Immari, snatching the torture device from her and shoving her back to the door with a wide palm upon her chest. Growling something in that foreign language, the lilting swirl of it at odds with the grinding savageness pouring from his chest. Features going slack in something far too close to fear, Immari did not protest when that other woman guided her from the doorway and well away from the chamber.
Leaving Aida all alone with the monster who stood with legs spread, chest heaving with rumbling breaths before he turned to face her.
“She already did that,” Aida mumbled through frozen lips while scooting to the other side of the tub, as far away as she could get from the man as he hefted the rose laden soap. Watching his every move through the clumped fringe of her lashes, Aida cringed as he tossed the heavy bottle away. Waiting for the crash of pottery against the wall, she gave a slow blink when it never came. Leaning sideways to peek, she saw no evidence of it at all.
While so distracted, she didn’t see him coming closer. Missed his hand reaching for her until it closed over her crown and pushed her under the water. Holding her there despite her panicked thrashing. A new fear spiking in her veins, adrenaline surging through her heart, Aida screamed frothy protests into the murky water and clawed at the arm above her.
Dragged up from the shallow depths to choke on the sudden rush of air heaved into her lungs, his face was inches away when her eyes cleared. Heedless of the water and saliva spattering his cheeks as Aida continued to sputter, lips a slash of bitter amusement, he held her upper body above the water when she tried to sink back down.
“Again.”
The dark sweep of her brows knit together as she twitched her head side to side, comprehension eluding her as he slapped an unfamiliar brick of some waxy substance into her palm. Not until it became wet, her fingers slipping over the block with the known texture of soap did she understand what it was.
“You sent Immari away,” Aida whispered to hide the plaintive whine of her voice. Refusing to meet that disturbing gaze as he remained far too close, she willed her skin to stop growing so warm where he continued to touch her, to cease the thrilling heat slipping down the center of her body.
“You’ve gotten me all wet,” the beast said with a narrowing of his eyes. Sucking his teeth, he withdrew, a sidelong sneer given to the drenched state of his clothing before he worked the odd buttons at wrist and neck free. Nothing at all like the ribbon tied shirts Otaso wore, no billowing fabric or embroidery edged slits to show a glimpse of puffy cloth beneath. A close fit from neck to waist, it seemed to accentuate his bulk, giving more than a mere hint at the rippling muscle beneath.
Aida exhaled hard as he pulled the whole garment over his head, baring so much flesh she did not know where to look. Found herself drawn back to the firm planes of his chest, the deep valleys and hills of his stomach no matter how many times she tried to look away. Glancing at the cruel twist of his lips as he muttered under his breath, the bright gleam of his gaze shimmering with his anger.
Now hers filled with tears, uncertainty driving her back. She’d angered him, again. Not her fault she’d splashed so when he shoved her under the water. What person in their right mind wouldn’t struggle against being drowned in a tub? Arms snaking around her middle, she curled around the sudden ache centered in the pit of her stomach.
He’d punish her now, blaming her for it all. Just like Otaso.
His low mutterings became louder, a thunderous rumble as he yanked the soaked trousers free. Peeling the wet fabric away from his skin with brisk annoyance. Boots flung across the room, the leather splotched and maybe ruined.
Her first tears slipped free despite her struggle to hold them back. Otaso hated it when she cried, and he might be no different. Loathe to bring more pain down upon her head, she scrubbed the back of one hand over her cheek, smearing bitter despair over her skin.
Aida fell back with a mewling cry when he snatched that same hand, silencing the words if not the sounds begging for mercy. Turning most of her body away, she gave him the far sturdier line of her back rather than the painful edge of her cheek to strike. Mouth opening on a silent scream as liquid fire seared over her fingers, across her hand to the inside of the wrist where the sharp edge of his teeth scraped at the fluttering pulse.
He nipped the delicate flesh hard before the tub erupted in buffeting waves, the crash of water following him into the bath.
Whine shrill and somehow breathless as her lungs seized and her heart ceased its hammering, Aida sluiced through the water by his grip, dragged against a solid wall of thick muscle and impenetrable force with a wet slap of skin. Swells flooded over the edge, splashing all over the floor with the patter of a downpour. Her one thought, wild and crazed, was how the bath continued to be full despite how much sloshed and sprayed.
Sightless gaze pinned to the wall that seemed leagues away, Aida remained rooted to the spot. Limbs too heavy and rigid, they threatened to break off as he shoved the trunk like breadth of a thigh between hers. Forcing her to recline against him, pushing and pulling until she mimicked a languid repose over his body. Inner thighs vibrating with tension where he kept her spread over both of his legs, Aida could scarce breathe as he locked an arm over her hips to keep her there while he dug around the bottom of the tub for the waxy block she’d lost track of ages ago.
“Again,” the man husked against the shell of her ear, smacking the slippery block into Aida’s rigid hand. Closing his fingers over hers in a painful grip, he brought their joined hands to her chest. Rubbing the brick in slow arcs until frothy bubbles appeared. Smearing them in ever widening circles, he grunted something in that other language and dragged the soap over one breast. Hot breath scattering over her shoulder as he watched his work, he repeated the same to the other.
Firm from the very moment he’d pressed her against it, she felt that part of him grow somehow harder. A slow throbbing against her lower back, the bewildering need to squirm making her uncertain if she wanted to get away or closer. Despite the fear tumbling through her belly, the tight bands of it constricting her chest, she felt flush. A tension that had nothing to do with her uncertainty gliding in sinuous threads through her veins. The skulking predator that inhabited her with careful precision until Aida found a sigh trembling over her lips, head falling back to the beast’s shoulder as he skimmed the soap over the aching point of her breast.
She shuddered when he repeated the action on the opposite side, the edge of his nails scraping over the taut nub that drew tighter with the rough touch. A helpless sound trembled over her tongue as sensations she could scarce describe flooded through her. The heat alone so intense she felt boiled alive from the inside out, pulsing thick and strange. Shivering as if the dead of winter scraped her spine despite the luscious fire licking through the cradle of her hips. A strange heaviness pervading it all, from her arms to her breasts, even that place between her thighs feeling so full and thick that she strained against the unrelenting force of his legs to squeeze it tight.
Rumbled words smeared against her neck sent a ragged thrill down her spine. Her back bowed, hard and sharp. Painful as she shoved her backside against the throbbing hardness of him, grinding against it. The next breath let loose on a thin scream as he tore them from the water. Whirled around, he slammed her against the edge of the bath, hard shelf driving against the soft flesh of her thighs. Painful pressure somehow glorious as his weight came against her.
Aida’s hands scrambled over the sturdy frame when his hands slid down her waist. Over the roundness of her backside, spreading them wide before he slid into the space he made. Closing the soft skin around his thickness, creating a channel of slick flesh. One she could not squirm free of as he set his legs tight against the outside of hers. Lower half wedged against the unforgiving wood, he pinned her in place for the slap of his hips as he bucked against her. Threatening to topple forward from the next vicious movement, his arms snaked around her. One hand gripping the opposite shoulder to keep her spine in a painful arch, the other at her throat to strangle her by degrees.
Aida scrunched her eyes closed, wishing that the smooth glide of flesh against her didn’t cause that pool of heat in her belly to thrash. That his shuddering breaths on her nape didn’t make her body sing. Smothered in male musk and the overwhelming heat of him, she whined in denial of the things he incited. Worse still as the pressure against her mound fled over pain into something all too stark and real. Pleasure mounting in heady waves, crashing through her with every hard shove. Tension riddled her body, a plucked string drawn too tight and threatening to snap.
As his thrusting became fitful, too fast and rough for her to balance against, he jerked her back against his chest. Fingers tightening over the column of her throat to silence her ragged panting, a splayed palm low on her belly pulled her into every rapid surge of his hips. He became thicker, the base of it feeling massive as it ground against her. Expanding until Aida thought it would bruise.
Hot and thick, something spattered over her back. His rumbles and growls scalding her neck as he bit and licked at the skin, continuing to buck against her. Movements slower, rougher yet more precise as more and more wetness coated her. Sounds choked off, Aida felt that tension rise, unbearable as it shuddered through her. Straining towards something.
Back cold and dripping as his heat left her, Aida clung to the tub frame and dared to look over her shoulder at the man who straightened despite his heaving chest and the deep flush staining his face and neck. Swiping a hand over his hair, he gave Aida a tightening of his lips before crouching to grab the soap from beneath the water once more. Tossing it onto the bath’s edge, he climbed out with an effortless grace.
