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“What the hell are you doing?!” she shrieked, fighting to cover herself back up, even as I yanked her shirt over her head, her hair falling in a nasty, tangled mess around her shoulders.
“If ye won’t do as I ask, I’ll do it fer ye,” I replied as I moved my hand to her shoulder, moving her toward the toilet seat to push her into a sitting position. She was useless in fighting me, and I used my free hand to rip off her sweats.
Her legs kicked and I deftly dodged them. Pulling her back up into a standing position, I shoved her toward the standing shower. “Get the hell off of me you—youbastard!”
The door slid open, a roil of steam billowing out with it, and I pushed her in under the spray.
“Gahh!” she gurgled. Her face hit directly by the water streaming from the showerhead before she scrambled to the side, gasping for air.
Watching her struggle, I removed my jacket, tossing it back onto the podium sink before rolling up my dress shirt sleeves. She moved slightly out of the spray, avoiding me when I reached in, the hot water pelting the front of my shirt as I grabbed the soap bar.
She scowled, watching me lather up my hands. “You better not be planning on doing what I think you’re about to.”
“Ye should ’ave listened. Now yer doin’ it my way.” The soap landed on the shower stall’s tiled floor as I let it drop, my eyes briefly meeting Ottavia’s. My brow rose. “Would ye rather I compelled ye?”
Her lips pursed, her inner turmoil obvious before she reluctantly moved closer to me, her wordless answer a resoundingno.
“Tha’s a good girl.” Heat flooded her skin at the praise, but she did her best not to show it. My soapy hands landed on her, starting on her arms and moving up to her shoulders as she fought to keep the sneer on her face. Fingers sunk into her skin as I lathered her up, the soft smell of her arousal mixed with the floral scent of the soap bar.
I adjusted my stance in the doorway, the hot water hitting my shoulder and bouncing off to sprinkle onto Ottavia’s face and neck. Her breaths had quickened, but I kept my pace slow, using the moment to explore her even as I scrubbed her clean. When my hands moved to her breasts, I didn’t linger despite wanting to. Instead, I covered her rosy nipples with suds and then ran them down the soft rolls on her stomach. Her eyes met mine for a moment, her pupils blown, and I hummed with satisfaction at her body's response to my touch without the use of pheromones.
Her lips parted when I swiped between her legs, my fingers cleaning her sensitive pussy. I kept it brief, professional even, despite the beast pushing heavily to step into the forefront. If our moment while she ate was a testament to anything, it was that she needed me to remain calm and in control. My shoes squeaked on the wet floor as I knelt, water spraying out onto the tile with the door open. My hands ran up one of her legs, then the other, my eyes never leaving her face and hers never leaving my eyes.
She must not be worried about compulsion anymore.
Rising, I gestured toward the water and she stepped under the spray, her eyes shifting to watch the suds trail down the drain.
When there was no trace of soap left on her body, I spoke and pointed at the shampoo bottle, “Hand it ov’r, love, we need ta get yer mess o’ hair sorted.”
She wordlessly did as I requested, turning her back to me so that I could squeeze the shampoo onto her wet hair. It lathered at her roots, my fingers scrubbing into her scalp as I massaged it through her strands. She hissed lightly when my fingers caught, but I ignored her, continuing to untangle every knot.
“Ye know, it wouldn’t be tha’ bad if ye’d showered sooner,” I said, combing out a particularly nasty knot that earned me a hiss in response.
“I’m aware. Thank you,” she replied, another hiss leaving her lips as I continued to detangle her long waves.
“Yer welcome.” She huffed at my response but otherwise remained quiet as I finished up. Hands gripping her shoulders, I turned her so that the water ran down her head. Her eyes closed as I helped rinse her hair, her dark strands now silky smooth and shining under the spray.
I turned the water off and her eyes opened, face slowly turning to look at me. “Yer finished. Na get dressed.”
Her gaze dropped to look at the tent in my trousers and quickly flicked back up, her cheeks warming. “That’s it? You’re not going to assault me or force me to feed you?”
The fake anger in her tone had a chuckle rumbling from my chest. “Na unless ye want me ta, love.”
Her eyes burned, but her lips pursed. “No.”
It almost sounded like a lie.
Almost.
“Right. Bathe an’ eat or I’ll come back ’ere and ye won’t like how I treat ye next time.” She didn’t respond, just tightened her jaw with a look that told me she’d be heeding my warning. I turned, the air cold as it hit my wet clothing, and I left the room before I lost the battle to my beast.
Ottavia
Chapter sIXTEEN
Time passed as it always did: unerringly, without a care for those affected by it.
Locked in the room, with very little to keep my mind occupied other than the occasional book Eoin was now supplying me with, since I could apparently be trusted to not heft the tomes at the guards’ heads, I was bored.
