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Rather than just drying off with it and ditching it in the bathroom, I left it on and padded out into the bedroom.
I found Namir sitting on the bed, staring up at the ceiling, until I stepped out. His gaze immediately fell to me, and then his expression grew hot.
Remaining silent, I walked to the edge of the bed and sat down, tucking a leg up onto the mattress to keep my balance. His gaze dipped to the bare flesh I exposed, and his eyes grew darker and more intense.
“You said you could offer me pleasure,” I told him, fighting the urge to wrap my arms around myself.
I was strong; I was a survivor. I could talk about sex and pleasure without feeling the need to cover myself further, or hide.
“I did.”
“Does the offer stand?” I asked, slipping my hands beneath my thighs so they wouldn’t reveal my anxiety.
“Always.”
I let out a slow, quiet breath, then stood and slipped the robe off my shoulders. The fabric hit the floor, and the king sat up, sliding to the edge of the bed. His feet touched the ground, and I remained where I was, his head level with my breasts.
“I’ll need to touch you, first. To figure out what feels good for you,” he murmured, his hands remaining by his sides.
“I don’t know how you’d pleasure me without your hands,” I drawled back. “Do you even know what you’re doing?”
He barked out a laugh. “Theoretically.”
I snorted. “Maybe I should find someone else to teach me pleasure.”
His humor vanished, and he stood abruptly, his eyes burning into mine. “Not a fucking chance.” He stepped around me, and I held my chin high as I felt his eyes on my skin while he slowly circled me, his gaze taking in every detail of my body. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, Diora—you’re fucking breathtaking. My salvation—my fate—my mate.”
I flushed further with his words.
His fingers finally made contact with me, dragging lightly over my rib cage as he stepped around the front of me. His attention was focused on my body, now, and my eyes closed as his touch dipped to the scar on my abdomen. “Does it hurt here?”
“No,” I mumbled.
“Is it sensitive, though?”
“Not physically.”
Mentally, it was another story.
To feel fingers on my skin, on the place even I hadn’t been able to touch for twenty years…
Stars.
“What about here?” His second hand brushed one of my wrists.
“No,” I whispered again.
“Open your eyes, Love. I want you to look at me while I touch you.”
His words made me shudder, but I forced my eyes to open. They locked with his, and my abdomen clenched when I saw that small, sexy smirk on his face while he touched me.
“Stars, you’re proud of yourself,” I mumbled to him.
He chuckled. “Not proud of myself, Diora; proud of you. My gorgeous wolf, letting me take care of her.”
I scowled. “I’m not a wolf.”
“Agree to disagree.” His fingers continued moving over my scar as he walked another slow circle around my body, and I had to clench my jaw to keep my eyes open. “How does this feel?” His palms met my bare sides, and I inhaled sharply. “Diora?”
