AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“No one thinks of you in those terms,” he said soothingly, pausing to rinse off all those fascinating bubbles.
“Don’t patronize me, Mircea.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.” And, okay, there was just no doubt about it. That was a definite smirk. He apparently thought his little game was cute.
I’d show him cute.
I dropped the sheet and got in beside him, pushing him down onto the bench. I stood in front of him, taking my time checking out the bewildering array of available toiletries. “What are you doing?” he asked, eyes lazily slitting.
“You washed my hair. It’s only fair I return the favor.” I managed to just brush his cheek with one breast as I reached up to get the shampoo. I put one knee on the bench as I lathered him up, nudging his legs apart to make room. I might have nudged a few other things, too, but he merely watched, although something wicked lurked behind his eyes, feral and amused and hungry.
“The Consul acts like I’m one of her vampires,” I said, massaging in the suds. “She orders me around and expects me to help with plans she doesn’t even bother to explain. I broke a guy out of jail for her today and I don’t even know his name!”
“You broke a great many people out of jail.” His hands settled on my hips, his thumbs stroking me slowly.
“That’s not the point! I’m her ally, not her servant. She needs to understand that.” I picked the shower head off the wall and leaned against him as I rinsed. “So do a few other people.”
“I do not consider you a servant, dulceata.”
“But you don’t tell me anything.” I nudged him again, a little more firmly, and the smirk faded. I smiled.
“In the last month, you have had experiences that would have broken a weaker person. You have enough on your plate.”
“Don’t you think that’s for me to decide?”
“We obviously need to discuss this,” he said, but his breath hitched slightly.
“I thought you were out of time.”
“If you keep doing that, I soon will be.”
“Doing what?” I asked, rubbing against him in a soft, sweet tease.
A sharply indrawn breath was followed by a movement so quick I couldn’t track it with my eyes. But somehow I ended up against the wet shower wall, bubbles in the air and Mircea between my legs. His still soapy hands were slick and barely controlled as he slid them around my hips, pulling me against him. I had a moment to see amber eyes narrow, glittering and full of intent, before the weight of his body slid against me, in me, deep and hard and hot.
I made a little whimpering noise as my body expanded to accommodate him, and then my voice was busy giving orders as he pressed in each time—harder and more and don’t stop. Every movement sent spikes of pleasure arcing up my spine, turning my muscles soft and helpless. Instinct sent my hands sliding down the long, lean muscles of his back, nails lightly running across his buttocks, caressing him. And the room suddenly went hazy, shimmering like heat on asphalt.
I kept my eyes stubbornly open; I didn’t want to miss a single second of this. And for a few moments I even managed to keep that resolution. Until the sensation of the water pouring down his chest and over my skin combined with the feel of his movements inside me to drive me to the edge. Everything became a blur of heat and need, of words breathed over my skin like a caress, of hands and mouths etching the Braille of desire onto warm, wet skin. My eyes finally closed as I was savored, devoured, possessed.
Strong arms came around me as his rhythm began to falter, water-slick hands sliding over my face, my breasts, my hips before he sucked air between his teeth and tilted just so and that was it. The world went white before my eyes, my whole body condensing into a single point of pleasure. A toe-curling orgasm broke over me that left me shaking and laughing up at the ceiling as he finished in a staccato frenzy of motion.
And someone knocked on the door.
Mircea cursed in a string of low-voiced Romanian, his head against my neck, his wet hair trailing over my breast. After a moment, he snatched a big Turkish towel off a rack and wrapped it around me. I leaned against the wall, weak-kneed and breathless, as he wrenched open the door. “Yes?”
One of the blank-faced masters was there, radiating disapproval. “The Consul wanted to be sure you received her message,” he rumbled.
“Tell her I w
ill be with her momentarily,” Mircea snapped, and slammed the door in his face.
“Marco says you can’t do that to the older masters,” I informed him as he dried off with abrupt, angry motions.
“You shouldn’t take Marco’s advice too much to heart. He is one of those he spoke to you about—one who has reached the farthest limit of his power. He is having, I think, some trouble accepting that.”
“It still wouldn’t hurt to be polite.”
“It is obvious that you have yet to meet the family. I am terrorized by them, not the other way around, I assure you.”
