Page 196 of A Dance of Water

His trousers were?—

She hadn’t realized her mouth had fallen open until Tharen tapped under her jaw. "Close your mouth, lamb, unless you plan on putting it to use."

"Oh," she squeaked, snapping her mouth shut.

Her gaze kept dragging back to Bastian, no matter how much she willed herself to look elsewhere. The fabric strained over the rigid proof of his arousal, shamelessly displayed. And he made no attempt to conceal himself.

The vampire stalked forward, tipping her head up with a finger under her chin. "I do not mind if you wish to look, pet, but don’t be cruel and toy with me if you don’t plan on offering yourself."

He searched her eyes, and her legs tightened on Tharen’s waist.

She was growing increasingly overwhelmed. Wanted nothing more than a moment alone.

Whatever Bastian found on her face—in her mind—made him give a soft nod. "Very well. I can be patient."

But do not mistake my patience for disinterest, I will thoroughly ruin you when you let me in,he whispered in her mind.

His sensual lips tipped into a smirk that promised midnight touches and silken trysts. "Rest well, pet. Tomorrow, the real lessons begin. Wear something pretty for me, won’t you?"

"But the c-curtain," she stammered.

Tharen huffed, fingers digging into the flesh of her hips. "No curtain can keep us from you."

"Imagination is a… powerful thing," Bastian crooned.

With those lingering words, Tharen made for the door, uncaring that she was wrapped around his frame indecently. He kept her anchored with strong hands, carrying her with ease.

"Take her back to her room first," Bastian called. "The beast needs to be tamed."

Az. She was drowning in her sudden need for him.

Tharen released a growl of frustration. "Why should I?"

Bastian hummed. "I’ll let you figure out the answer to that."

A pause.

Luella peeked up, looking at Tharen, eyes tracing the severe lines of his face, the way his lashes cast fleeting shadows on the hollows beneath his eyes. He gritted his jaw and peered down at her, catching her staring. His face was utterly unreadable to her—not for the first time this evening. She wondered of his thoughts… Wondered if the way his eyes softened as he looked down at her was a product of her imagination or real.

He was silent for a few breaths, until finally, he spat, "Fine. But I’m taking her to my bed after."

Bastian interjected, but Tharen spoke over him:

"Don’t fucking start. If you were forced to watch what I just did, damned to silence, you’d want her in your bed, too."

"That’s fair, I suppose." Bastian cupped her cheek, forcing her to look at him. "If you need me—if, at any point, he becomes too much—you need only call." He released her, eyes shifting to Tharen. "And if you lay one finger on her, I’ll drain you until you’re no more than a hollow shell."

"You can try," said the mage. Fear made her weak, and she started slipping. Tharen’s fingers tightened around her waist, lingering possessively as if he couldn’t stand the thought of her falling. "Besides"—he moved for the door, brushing past Bastian as he pushed it open—"I don’t even need to touch her."

In a mocking farewell, Tharen lifted a hand, swirls of air dancing along his fingertips. The tendrils skimmed over her back like soft, teasing fingertips, sending a shiver down her spine.

The warmth of the water felt faint compared to the heat sizzling in Luella’s veins.

No longer blindfolded, the sight of the dimly lit bathing chambers made her heart feel like it may crawl out of her throat.

Water licked against her skin. She burned, heat spreading from the inside out, as if her veins were molten.

As she hugged her knees to her chest, her arms wrapped tightly around them to grant herself some sense of comfort, her half-lidded eyes traced the ripples on the dark surface of the water. Murky hands shimmered just out of reach, but she blinked, and the vision fizzled away just as warm water flowed down her back.