Tapestries 04 - Threads of Destiny (8 page)

She trusted him and that was the most bizarre feat of all. For she’d trusted very few people in her lifetime, never knowing who might be spies for her father. Tienan and Logan were the only other people in her life that she had trusted before Marc.

He sat on his knees by the side of the tub, watching her. Waiting. The surety that he would walk away if she asked him to struck her like a bolt of lightning. He truly meant it when he said she was in charge. A thrilling sense of feminine power shot through her at the thought of being in control of all that masculine sexuality. Her nipples tightened and heat pooled between her thighs.

She nodded slowly and Marc’s posture relaxed, revealing exactly how tense he’d been. He stripped off his vest, leaving his chest bare. She’d seen it before but she hadn’t taken the time to really look at it.

The light from the candles flickered, bathing his skin, giving it a golden glow. The man was built. She was used to the lean, supple muscles of Tienan and Logan. Marc was very different. His shoulders were incredibly wide and thick, his biceps huge. The metal arm and wristbands only emphasized their size and strength. A light sprinkling of hair dusted the center of his chest and tapered down his belly. Muscles banded his stomach. His waist was thick but there wasn’t an ounce of fat on the man.

From her vantage point in the tub, she couldn’t see much below his waist, although she knew what was below it was as impressive as what was above. She’d seen his erection and the heated glint in his eyes. There was no doubt that he wanted her.

For a woman who’d always been treated as an oddball, a misfit, this was heady stuff. There was no faking that kind of response and it was an aphrodisiac to be wanted so much by a man like this.

She sucked in a breath when he leaned across her and plucked the bar of soap off the shelf. “I’ll wash your hair first.” He positioned himself behind her. She could hear the sound of his breathing but she couldn’t see him.

She felt nervous and excited all at once. Her earlier sleepiness had fled, replaced by a rush of adrenaline and anticipation. His fingers sifted through her hair, plucking out the few remaining pins. They plinked against the stone floor as he dropped them. His motions were firm and sure as he messaged her scalp for a moment before sliding his fingers through the tresses to loosen any tangles.

“Lie back,” he murmured.

Falling under his seductive spell, she slid downward in the tub until her hair was immersed in the water. When it was totally soaked, she sat up and he began to work.

He wrapped his arms around her, dipped the soap in the water and worked a thick lather between his palms. Laying the soap on her tummy, he then proceeded to work the lather through her hair from root to tip. He worked slowly and methodically.

Kathryn felt the stress of the day slip away.

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Closing her eyes, she was lost to his tender ministrations. “Back down,” he instructed. Without opening her eyes, she submerged totally beneath the water. She felt his hands in her hair, working the soap out. She sat back up, sputtering when she could no longer hold her breath.

Marc handed her a cloth and she swiped her face. “Thanks.”

“I’m going to give it a final rise.” He stood and picked up a bucket from the far side of the tub. “Tip your head back.”

Kathryn scooted forward and did as he asked. Carefully, he poured the clean water over her scalp and hair. When he was done, he gently twisted the mass, wringing the water from it. She couldn’t believe how much better she felt simply having her hair clean.

“Now I can bathe you.”

She shivered but not because she was cold. Her blood pumped heavily through her veins as heat suffused every inch of her. She felt alive for the first time in her life. It was as if every cell in her body was poised, ready for what was to come.

“Yes,” she sighed and sat back, taking care to drape the bulk of her hair over the rim of the tub so it didn’t trail into the water.

Reaching down, he dug around the tub until he found the bar of soap and lathered his hands once again. This time, he placed them on the curve of her neck and stroked up and down the slender column. She tilted her head back, peeking out from under her lids to study him.

His face was wreathed in concentration as he worked. With great deliberation, he soaped her shoulders and arms. Then, one hand at a time, he carefully washed the bloodstains from all her fingers.

She decided that she could easily watch him for hours. His face was so masculine, almost hard. He had a high forehead and cheekbones and full lips. His golden-brown eyes reminded her of an eagle that she’d seen in a picture book when she was a child.

The species was extinct on earth but once it had been one of the fiercest birds of prey on the planet. Marc was like that—fierce, ready to attack at a moments notice. But there was another side to him as well. A gentle side. The side he was showing her now.

His hands shifted, slipping over the mounds of her breasts. A whimper of pleasure escaped her as he tenderly plucked at her nipples. The electric sensation seemed to shoot from her breasts to her pussy. Her inner muscles contracted and relaxed. She felt empty. Needy. Her hips undulated in the water, sending a wave of water to the edge of the tub.

“More?” Marc asked as he slid his hands over her tummy.

“Yes.” She parted her legs and arched her hips. She wanted, no needed, him to touch her. To sate the ache within her, which went all the way to the very core of her being. “Touch me.” She didn’t recognize her own voice. Gone was the sharp, crisp tone she usually used, replaced by a sultry whisper that invited and beguiled.

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Marc traced her belly button, dipping a finger inside before continuing his journey.

He cupped her hips in his hands, his thumbs brushing her hipbones. She giggled at the unexpected touch. His fingers tickled her skin and she squirmed beneath his hands.

“Ah,” he breathed. “You’re ticklish.”

“I’m not,” she gasped, trying not to laugh.

Marc’s low chuckle filled the air. “I’ll have to remember that.” Without warning, he slid between her legs, holding the slick folds of her sex open with one hand, while plunging two fingers deep inside her. The juxtaposition from laughter to carnal delight had her head spinning and her emotions shattered. She had no defenses against Marc. Nor did she want any. Not now. Maybe in the bright light of the morning, but for now, she just wanted to feel.

Kathryn cried out, arching her hips. She felt stretched. Full. It was delicious. As in her dream, it barely took a touch and she was close to climax. Never in her life had she felt so sexually charged and sensually alive.

“You’re so tight,” he gritted out. “So hot.” He slid his fingers to the edge of her opening.

She shoved her hips upward, not wanting to lose contact with him. She bit her lip to keep from screaming in frustration when he fingered the folds of her sex. Reaching down, she grabbed his hand and pushed it lower.

“Tell me what you want?”

“You,” she gasped as his thumb stroked her swollen clit. “Your fingers inside me, fucking me.” She’d never talked like this in her life but she was desperate. She wanted this. Needed this release.

“Whatever you want, Kathryn. If it is within my power to give it, it is yours.” One thick finger slid into her tight sheath. When he withdrew to the edge, he pushed a second one inside. The water, her arousal and the soap on his fingers allowed them to slide easily. His rhythm quickened as he drove her higher and higher.

Energy coiled low in her belly. She was so close. Her breathing was ragged as she grasped the edge of the tub and met the inward stroke of his fingers with a thrust of her hips. She tilted her head back, her mouth parting on a low cry.

“More,” she screamed.

Marc brushed his thumb against her clit as he pumped his fingers. Leaning down, he nuzzled her neck before gently biting. Her fingers tingled, her nipples tightened and her entire body jerked. Kathryn cried his name as she came. Water sloshed as she pumped her hips, desperate to milk every last sensation from her climax.

When she could take no more, she clamped her thighs together. Marc carefully withdrew his fingers and buried his face in her neck. His breathing was as heavy as hers as they both sat there. Kathryn shivered, a combination of the remnants of her climax and the cool air. The water had chilled and she was cold now that the heat of the moment had passed.

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Marc moved around to the side of the tub. Grabbing the soap, he quickly washed her legs and feet before dragging a washcloth over her torso. Tossing the cloth aside, he leaned in and scooped her from the tub.

Standing her on the floor, he quickly toweled her off and squeezed the excess water from her hair. He tossed the towel aside and pulled her into his arms once again, carrying her from the bathing chamber and back into the bedroom.

Kathryn tried to look around but the room was in shadows. The cheery fire crackling in the grate, the only light. She felt exhausted, yet energized. It was an odd feeling. Almost one of anticipation.

Marc didn’t carry her to the bed. Instead, he laid her atop a thick fur on the floor in front of the fireplace. The warmth from the fire stroked over her skin, warming her. As she watched, he shucked his boots and removed the arm and wristbands, laying them carefully on the mantle. His hands went to the laces at the front of his pants.

Her eyes traced the long, thick bulge and she felt cream slip from her pussy. She wanted him. And this time, she wanted his thick, hard length inside her, filling her.

He quickly loosened the laces and shoved his pants over his muscular legs and off.

She made a low humming sound in the back of her throat. She’d never seen anything like him in her life. She longed to touch him, to taste him.

She licked her lips and he groaned. Her gaze shot to his face and she saw lust and longing etched there. Holding out her hand, she beckoned to him. “Come here.” 44

Marc gritted his teeth and braced his muscles to keep from falling on Kathryn and rutting like a bull scenting a female in season. Her skin glowed in the flickering light, the damp tresses of her hair gleamed. When it was dry, he knew her hair would rival the fire itself. He’d never seen hair quite that color. It was vibrant and alive. Just like her.

Standing beside her, he gazed down. The dream didn’t do her justice. Marc wasn’t sure how much had been a dream and how much had been real but it no longer mattered. She was here now and he was going to do everything in his power to keep her.

She swallowed and he watched the slender column of her neck ripple. He shuddered as a rush of arousal shot through him. His cock was fully aroused. Hard and long, it jerked slightly as if trying to reach for her.

Marc went down on his knees beside her. “Turn around so your back is toward the flames.” He waited until she was settled, then he carefully spread the long cape of her hair toward the heat. “I don’t want you to get sick,” he murmured as he combed his fingers through her thick tresses.

“That feels wonderful,” she sighed. Closing her eyes, she tilted her head slightly, relaxing into his caress.

He smiled. How like a contented cat she looked, all but purring as he stroked her.

As her hair dried, he could see the brilliant reddish tones more clearly. Strands curled slightly around his fingers as he continued to work carefully. There were a few tangles but he patiently got rid of them one at a time.

When he was satisfied that she was dry and warm, he shifted, stretching out beside her. Kathryn smiled sleepily as she rolled onto her back. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure.” The words were little more than a deep rumble. In truth, he was finding it hard to talk. His entire body was on fire with need for her. Yet, he wasn’t ready to take her. Not yet. First he wanted to touch her. To explore the bounty laid bare before him.

Supporting himself on one arm, he cupped her chin in his hand, rubbing his thumb over her smooth cheek. Her skin was softer than the finest furs. He leaned closer, studying her. One by one he touched the few freckles that dotted her otherwise pale skin.

She wrinkled her nose slightly. “I’ve never liked my freckles.”

“Why?” How could she not like them? He found them fascinating.

“They make me look like a kid.”

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He chuckled. “That is not possible, Kathryn. Believe me. There is no doubt that you are all woman.”

She blinked as he stroked his thumb over the curve of her bottom lip. Her mouth parted slightly and he pushed the tip of his thumb inside. Kathryn moaned sexily and nipped the edge of his skin. Now it was his turn to groan.

Her tongue slid over the top of his thumb and down the sides. Marc couldn’t stand it any longer. Pulling his thumb away, he leaned down and tasted her lips. It was the barest of touches but it made his head spin. She smelled of soap and flowers and a hint of womanly musk. She tasted of promises and tomorrows.

Her lips parted as he stroked his tongue inside. Lazily, he explored the wet cavern, tangling his tongue with hers in a slow mating dance.

Her hands slid up his biceps, her short nails lightly scoring his skin. His body felt alive with anticipation. With longing.

The kiss went on and on. Marc slid his hand around to the back of her head, cupping her skull with his palm, holding her captive as he plundered her mouth. Her hands slid up his shoulders and neck before she buried them in his hair. Her fingertips massaged his scalp. The sensation was incredible and he let out a deep rumble of pleasure.

Kathryn’s legs moved restlessly against his. He broke the kiss and stared into her deep green eyes. A man could willingly lose himself in such eyes. He touched her lips one final time and then peppered her forehead, cheeks and nose with kisses, making sure his lips touched each freckle.

He worked his way down the curve of her neck to her shoulders, all the while ignoring the ache in his cock. It throbbed in time to his heartbeat and liquid seeped from the tip. His balls were heavy and full, the skin pulled so tight around them it was a wonder they didn’t burst. He’d never felt need like this in his life. It gnawed at his belly like a savage hunger and ate at his soul.