Filed to story: My Kidnapper Is the Wolf King
“It’s not a big deal,” I say, though I feel more daring than I have ever felt in my life.
“People bathe me all the time. It’s just a bath.”
His eyes glint as though he can see through my lie.
He drags his teeth over his bottom lip, and for a horrible moment, I think he is going to walk away.
He laughs again, and shakes his head.
He reaches for the bar of soap and the cloth that sit on the tray on the floor, then trails his hand in the water. He doesn’t touch me, but I feel his heat on my torso as though he is. He lathers the soap between his big hands-releasing the scent of soap suds into his bedchambers.
The humor disappears from his eyes. “I can smell him on your face.”
I remember how Blake licked me last night.
I sink beneath the water, and rub my cheeks. When I emerge, Callum’s muscles seem a little less tense.
“Better?” I ask.
“Aye.” He gives me a soft smile. “Much.”
He runs the soapy cloth over my shoulder, then down my arm. I can feel the heat of his palm, even though his skin is not touching mine.
I revel in the strangeness of this new feeling. No one has touched me this way before. I should feel vulnerable and exposed. Goddess knows, I am those things. But my body is soft beneath his touch, and it feels as if his hands were made for me.
He moves the cloth over my collarbone, causing my pulse to spike, and watches the trail of soapy suds he leaves in his wake. His hand seems so big when it’s on my body.
My gaze moves back to his face.
Despite the heat that’s pooling between my legs that has nothing to do with the warm water, his expression almost makes me laugh.
His jaw is set with determination, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone look so focused.
His hand dips beneath the waterline, slowly moving down my chest. I feel his thumb brush against the swell of my breast and I know he must be able to feel how hard my heart is beating.
Why do I, so badly, want to tease him?
“I thought you said you weren’t ever going to touch me,” I say.
“I’m not touching you.” His serious eyes follow his hand as it trails back between my breasts. “I’m touching the cloth. And the cloth is touching you.”
A laugh I didn’t know was building erupts from my lips.
“What?”
“Nothing. . . just. . . you.” I look pointedly at his hand, splayed across my chest. The cloth is barely visible beneath it. “I would definitely consider this as you touching me.”
He grins. “You’d know if I was really touching you, Princess.”
I do know, I want to tell him. I know he is touching me because my whole body is on fire and there’s something inside me that aches to be released and no one’s hands have ever brought me to life like that before.
His expression darkens as if he’s sensed the direction of my thoughts.
He shuts his eyes abruptly, hiding the wolf.
“Why do you do that?” I ask.
“Do what?”
I touch his cheek, dampening his skin with my wet hand. “You shut your eyes every time it happens. Are you embarrassed by the wolf?”
“Embarrassed? No. Never.” He opens his eyes, revealing those strange yet beautiful irises. “I’m proud to be a wolf. But I don’t want to scare you.”
“I’ve already told you that you don’t.”
“You’re very strange.”
“So are you.”
I trace his jaw with my thumb. Slowly, he moves his hand up to the back of my neck. His grip is firm, yet my body softens at his touch. His face is inches from mine, and his warm breath tickles my skin.
My pulse thunders in my ears.
“Rory.” His voice is strained, barely louder than a whisper. He presses his forehead against mine, bringing his lips closer. “You need to tell me to leave. I want to be a better man, but I don’t think I can be.”
“Callum-“
The door opens behind us and adrenaline and shame surge through me.
“What on earth have I walked in on here?” Blake’s amused drawl comes from the doorway and a look of fury crosses Callum’s face as he jerks back, his shoulders stiffening.
I sink further beneath the water, cheeks flaming as I glare over my shoulder at the male leaning against the doorframe.
“I had fun last night, little rabbit.” Blake’s lips curve into a smile. “We should do it again sometime.”
Callum gets up, water running down his arms, and crosses the room in a couple of strides. He grabs Blake by the collar of his shirt, and slams him into the wall.
“Before you do something you regret, Callum,” says Blake, his voice choked. “I have a message from the king.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
Iam exposed.
Even though my cheeks flame, the bathwater seems suddenly cold. The grey light coming through the window is revealing.
I’m not supposed to let any male see me undressed, and there are now two of them in the room.
What’s more, Blake is clearly amused by the situation.
For a dark moment, I hope Callum chokes him.
After a couple of seconds, he steps back.
Blake doesn’t quite manage to conceal the large gulp of air he takes before brushing down his now-crumpled shirt, the collar askew. His hair is ruffled, and his cheeks are slightly pink. He still manages to look smug, though.
“Which king?” growls Callum.
Blake leans against the doorframe and lets his expression settle into one of boredom. “Ours.” There’s something almost sarcastic in his tone.
“What message?”
“You know, you really ought to watch that temper of yours, Callum.”
“And you ought to watch your back.”
“Oh, you’re far too honorable a wolf for me to worry about that.”