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He kissed me, hard, his mouth claiming mine as I hit the coolness of the tiled wall.
But I didn’t care.
In that moment, I was all his.
All heat.
All fire.
Burning like an inferno.
His hands slid around to cup my ass, pulling me against him. My desire echoed deep in his mouth, making him thrust between my thighs. Heat radiated from my pussy. It throbbed with a mind of its own, forcing me to tilt my hips, meeting his soft push between my thighs.
Fuck, I wanted him…like I’d never wanted anything else in my life.
I wanted this…this raw, beautiful thing.
He pulled back, his eyes shining brightly. “You okay?”
I sucked in a deep breath, confusion rising for a second because he actuallycared. “Yes.” I glanced toward the running shower. “But shouldn’t we wash?”
Laughter glinted in his eyes, before he chuckled. “Sure, we can do that.”
Slowly, he lowered me to the floor. I brushed my wet hair back. I must look a mess. But he didn’t seem to notice, or care. He just grabbed a thick sponge, squeezed soap onto the surface, and reached for my hand.
With perfect care, he ran the soap up my forearm, then my shoulder, and across. I wanted him to touch me, to caress me.To look at me.And as though he'd read my mind, he lowered his gaze.
There was no room for the sponge, not anymore. It dropped from his hand to hit the shower floor with asplatas he cupped my breast, running his thumb across my nipple. “I dreamed of doing this, and more.”
“How much more?” I slid my hands over his chest and moved closer.
“A lot fucking more.”
There was no room for the past here, nothing could touch me. “Show me.”
He moved closer, leaving the water to run down his cheek. One tiny tilt of his head, and he opened his mouth. The rivulet of water rushed in, then he angled my head up, his thumb skimming my lower lip. I opened my mouth on instinct as he lowered his head.
Water cascaded from his mouth to mine. I swallowed, feeling the warmth sliding down the back of my throat as he groaned. His fingers slid down my neck, his thumb following the valley of my throat, coming to rest at my collarbone.
He moved faster than I could track, hitting the faucet and ending the spray before grabbing the soft, white robe and wrapping it around me. “Just for now,” he murmured. “I don’t plan on letting you get cold.”
He lifted me once more. I wrapped my legs around his hips, and pressed my chest against his. Droplets of water slipped from the tips of his sandy blond hair. I brushed them away, leaning down to kiss him. But the moment he lowered me to the bed, my body just froze.
Fear gripped me, sending tremors along my spine. Lazarus just rose above me, his gaze locked with mine. “What’s wrong, Kat?” I couldn’t answer, couldn’t speak. “Talk to me.”
My spine was pressed against the mattress. I knew I was safe, but still, unseen hands gripped my neck, driving the back of my head against the pillow as the brutality of their actions assaulted me. I slammed eyes closed, forcing the past back into that black hole where it belonged.
Until Lazarus stepped away.
Sensing the movement, I opened my eyes.
“You don’t like to be on your back,” he murmured, but it wasn’t a question. “You don’t like to be grabbed from behind, you don’t like to be…handled.”
He turned away from me, and for a second, I felt agony plunge deep. I'd ruined it. We'd had something special, something real, and I'd ruined it. The black tie in his hand draped toward the floor as he strode back toward the bed. He tied one end of it around his wrist with awkward movements, then wound it around the center post of the headboard. “You’ll need to tie my other wrist, Kat.”
“What are you doing?” I rose from the bed as he sat, moving into the middle.
“I can’t tie it on my own.” He stared into my eyes. My heart thundered watching him, trying to restrain himself. “You need to do it.”
