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It was a gut reaction, I think, just a remnant from the army. I grew up in the ranks, it was my whole life. It makes sense.
But that doesn’t explain the physical pleasure I felt. The arousal.
As if reading my thoughts, Finnen says, “You have a hard-on for orders?”
“Whatever,” I mutter, shaken.
“How do you feel about whips and paddles?” He approaches the tub slowly, hands held out, shuffling his feet on the floor and I stare at him. I often forget he really is blind. He’s just so otherworldly confident and strong that it’s only in moments like this I remember it, and my chest gets a little tight at the reminder.
“Shut up,” I say.
“If I command you in the right voice, will you roll over and let me rub your tummy?”
“Maybe it’s something else you wanna rub,” I say and grin when his head jerks toward me. “Huh, priest?”
“Let’s bathe before the water gets cold. We should undress.”
I turn to look at Ariadne. “Well, finally,” I say, to cover up the unease still stirring in me.
Her face reddens. “I…”
“Are we all getting inside?” Kiaran has approached the tub and is sniffing at it suspiciously. “We don’t fit.”
Ariadne’s face is turning crimson. “All of us? No, each at a t—”
“Yeah,” I say, all of us. “Before the water turns cold. Right, Finn?”
“Have you lost your mind?” Finnen snaps. “We don’t fit.”
“You need to loosen up.” I tug on the laces of my shirt. “I’m serious, Finn, or this clan business won’t work.”
His face stills. Then his pale brows draw together. With a soft snarl, he starts undressing.
“Do you have a hard-on for challenges?” I shoot his words back at him and he flinches just a little.
I’m enjoying this, way too much. I like teasing Finnen, and I’m kind of liking the way the Wildman is ripping his few clothes off his body—that ridiculous leather skirt and short boots, laying bare a pale, muscular body that’s giving Finnen’s a run for its money.
But then Ariadne starts undressing, and all my focus returns to her, all air leaving my lungs.
The guys arouse me with their honed, hard bodies, that much is the truth, but her soft curves makes me dizzy with desire.
“Here, sweetheart, let me help you.” I reach for her and finish the job of ripping her shirt off—fucking finally—to bare her breasts.
And Gods have mercy, they are as juicy and pretty as I’d imagined them to be. As perfect as she is, pale mounds topped with rosy nipples that make my mouth water.
Her eyes drop, lashes dark against the flush in her cheeks, her mouth begging to be kissed, taken, worshipped.
I wonder how long we’ll last inside this small, cramped room before we jump each other’s bones, before we fall on her like ravenous wolves.
Kiaran makes a noise and I find him with his hand on his hard cock, stroking, gaze fixed on her breasts.
“Fuck.” Even Finnen has turned toward us, eyes closed, nostrils flared.
It’s her scent, as much as her body, that lights up the room. It fills the small space, intensifying with every breath I draw, and when I glance up at her face, I find her looking at Kiaran and Finnen, her eyes dark like the night.
Then she returns her gaze to me and it snags on my chest, where the laces of my shirt hang loose revealing some of my scars, then it dips to my crotch, and her perfume sharpens.
It’s a vicious tug on my balls, and my cock swells, making me grit my teeth.
