Page 136 of The Robin on the Oak Throne

Her eyes darted down and back up again. Heat was already pooling in her core. She hadn’t thought she had anounce of adrenaline left in her body, but here she was, ready to drop to her knees again for this man. Monster. God.

Water cascaded down his muscled form as he entered the shower. All sleek skin and utterly inviting torment. She wanted to run her hands down him and feel his smoothness. Take his cock in her hand and slide it home into her where it belonged.

“Soap first,” he said, his voice husky as if he could see the desire in her eyes.

He reached for a bar, lathering a washcloth and then running it carefully across her skin. Every sense was heightened at the feel of his hands on her, cleaning away the night’s excursions. He was cautious of her bullet wound, treating it with tender care, before continuing on. When he was finished, he began to scrub at his own body as she washed off the soap under the spray.

She held out her hand. “Can I?”

He offered the washcloth to her without comment, and then she was running soap down Graves’s chest. Her heart beat a furious tempo as she moved along his legs and up across his arms. He turned for her, letting her marvel at the planes of his back and the tight clench of his ass. God, it was fucking magnificent.

His cock lengthened further at the sweep of her fingers and brush of her palm and the soft notes of pleasure she made at the simple act of getting to touch him. Finally, she had soaped every inch of him, and he stepped into the showerhead, washing away the evidence of her fingers. She eyed the water with barely suppressed jealousy.

“If you keep looking at me like that,” he said, low like a warning.

“Then what?”

“We have to wash your hair.” As if he was physically restraining himself so that he could take care of her.

She didn’t argue. Just turned her back to him and let him lather the dark strands. His hands massaging her scalp were sweet heaven and pure torture.

She moaned. She couldn’t even help it. It felt fucking incredible to have those hands working her over. Fingers that knew the world’s secrets, releasing all of her tensions.

His cock pressed into her ass at the sound. As if he, too, couldn’t help himself. She shivered at the need they both clearly felt crawling up and out of their chests. Like a bird trapped in a cage, beating its wings to be set free.

“Wren,” he ground out.

She hummed at the sound of her name on his tongue as he washed the shampoo out of her hair and went back for conditioner. It smelled like honeysuckle, sweet and pungent, and she couldn’t imagine him using it, but she loved it. Like he’d had it waiting here for her all along.

When the conditioner was finally washed out, she kept her eyes closed, letting the water rain down on her and whisk away the events of the evening.

Graves sucked her nipple into his mouth. She gasped but kept her eyes closed. Let him lead, if he wanted. She’d let him do anything right now. Anything at all.

His fingers replaced his mouth and then his tongue swirled around the other nipple until it peaked. They’d built up and up and up, the need a physical pain hovering between them, as if at any moment they might both explode and lose their minds without the other. She’d held out because of her anger, but it had cooled. And in its place she’d found…apartner.

One who had trusted her in the market and with the plan and with his heart.

She wanted this. She wanted him.

His hands ran down across her stomach and over her hips. Gone was the methodical cleaning, and here was worship. It was slow and intent and made her ache in all the right places.

His fingers slipped between her legs, finding the apex of her thighs and sliding over the wet folds of her body. He dragged his palm hard against her clit, grinding it there until she was shaking at the pleasure. Then, and only then, did he push two fingers inside of her, spreading her wide.

“Oh,” she gasped softly.

She opened her eyes to find him on one knee before her. His glittering dark eyes met hers as he stroked deep into her core. “I should towel you off and put you to bed.”

“Uh huh,” she whispered.

He speared up into her again. “But I can smell your desire.” His tongue laved at her nipple again. “And this cunt is so wet for me.” He dipped lower, brushing his tongue over her clit. “And your reactions are so needy. Are you needy?” he asked, swirling his tongue on her clit again. “Is this a needy little cunt?”

“Yes,” she told him with no embarrassment. No flush. He was right. She wanted him. She wanted him more than anything in the world. And she’d never sleep anyway without using her hand to get off thinking about him. “I need you inside of me right now.”

“Fuck,” he said as he slipped his fingers out of her.

He stood and grasped one of her legs, lifting it up overhis hip as he all but hauled her off of the ground in the slippery shower. The head of his cock was poised at her entrance. “Say it again.”

“I need you,” she gasped as she reached down and slowly lowered onto the head of his cock. “Fuck me, Graves.”

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