Page 207 of Winter Gods & Serpents

He halted his movement and stared at me so wondrously his irises shimmered like sun glitter over the clearest of waters.

“Enough with the staring.”

He gripped my face with a hand, pressing his forehead on mine. “Enough making my heart beat madly.”

I was naked, extremely bothered, wet and an inch away from stripping him naked to give me more than a bath. Except there was that little agreement. So I inhaled deep, as deep as I could, to tuck the frustration down and cleared my throat. “My, uhm, my bath.”

He rubbed his palms over my arms, moving away. “Now you are cold.”

“No, still you.”

He smiled and bit his lip pointing to the bath.

My arms hung on the sides of the bath to keep my wrapped hands dry, my head propped back at the rest, the warmth of water always relaxed me thoroughly. Kilian took a stool and sat next to me, his gaze still made me jittery. Slowly he ran his hands with soap around my hair, his fingers massaging my scalp so delicately my eyes rolled upwards from pleasure.

“Fuck, your hands are heavenly. Have you considered a change in profession?”

“To massage women’s heads? No, but I’ll take consideration after your suggestion.”

I whipped myself in his direction, soap bubbles floated around. “Women? What women? Woman, me, singular.”

“Ah,” he taunted all low tones, plopping bubbles on my cheek. “Jealous?”

“Let me be, it won’t be for long.”

I saw the shift in his pulse and the wither in expression. “What about after? Will you not be jealous then, I know I will.”

“Love her, Kil,” I barely murmured out, swallowing a cry. “Make sure whoever will be after me—make sure to love her, I don’t wish to be jealous of a passing desire. Make my jealousy worth having.”

“How can you ask that of me when you are so warm in my heart? Imagine me with someone else when even I can’t.”

I had no answer for him, only words that would have him debate with me.

He rinsed my hair and sat silently by me staring, more like gazing like one gazed at stars.

I leaned forward resting my arms on my knees, so close to him spring blossomed again a third time today. “Maybe, just maybe, one day you might actually stare me to death, you Adriatian bastard.”

He smiled, that maddening smile, if he was not going to stare me do death he would smile me to it. He traced the scar on my face with his thumb, its presence had not bothered me but somehow it felt heavy when he slowly dragged his fingers along the sides of it. “I cannot help it, only seeing you scarcely during the day is not nearly enough. I want to take in as much in detail as I can. It feels like every time I get to hold you—you might melt away like snow, out of my touch, away from me.”

“The reason I melt, my spring, it's that you are too warm,” I said, and he stilled. “But never away from you.”

He brought his face close to mine. “You undo me, woman,” he breathed over my lips. “When you speak your mind, you undo me.” He slid his hand to my neck, his thumb tracing the rest of my scar, my skin rose at the touch of his rough fingers, it felt as if I couldn’t breathe, and a gasp escaped my mouth. My rapid heartbeat shifted the bath water slightly as his hand moved slowly further down to my breasts. “My weakness,” he said, the top of his fingers grazed my nipple and then traced the rest of the breast curve before his head dipped down and sucked on it so hard it made me flinch at the accumulation of ecstasy. “Who would have though these made my knees weak more than any monster or fear.”

“I-I thought we said none of this. Not that I’m complaining.”

“There is no need for kissing or for my cock to be inside you to please my woman,” he murmured between kisses he trailed along my neck while his hand moved palming and kneading my breast.

He groaned in satisfaction and I lifted a bandaged hand to cover my moan. He pulled my hand down. “I want to hear you, that would be for my side of the pleasure.”

His fingers played with my aching breasts and their centre had hardened at the tease. Once his mouth took their place his hand moved further down over my stomach, down my hip and thigh before snaking back up to my lower stomach drawing lazy circles and lines. A map of teases.

“Kilian, gods,” I moaned or begged, perhaps even prayed.

In answer his hand lowered to my core and I flinched at the contact. My limbs spread to surrender to the rippling pleasure building all over my body, my breath its servant. Fingers circled excruciatingly slow over my sensitive skin and I moaned deep.

His other hand gripped my chin to force me meet his dominating gaze, before his head dipped lower sucking on my breast, making me hiss in pleasure. “I don’t think I’ll ever forget this, your sound,” he murmured over my puckered skin.

I bit my lower lip to control my breath, wrapping my arms over his neck I rested my head on his shoulder. He kissed the top of my head, the shell of my ear, nipping gently and then my shoulder. Vibrations of warmth chilled my skin.