Page 122 of Night of the Witch
“I met with the presumed priest and priestesses of the Well,” I tell him matter-of-factly. My fingers shake a little as I undo the laces on my kirtle, and I lift it up, peel it off, leaving only my shift. It’s stained up the hem and has been absolutely beaten with use, so I know the material is thin now, nearly translucent, some of it still wet from my earlier falls into the river. “They wanted Liesel and me to help them make the Well’s barrier impassable. So Dieter would be given free rein to wreak horrors unchecked with wild magic in the world.”
Otto staggers, the water rippling around him. “You—you refused them, I take it?”
“Of course.” I drop the kirtle to the ground on a bed of moss by the river stones, and I can see the way Otto’s breathing increases. The muscles along his abs clench tighter, and I track a bead of water that drips from his hair down his skin.
“How did they respond?” he asks, his eyes going black as he fights to stay focused on the conversation.
I pause for a moment, toying with the thin material against mystomach, a too-raw sensation from Otto’s eyes on me, demanding I feel this, feel him.
“I don’t want to talk about them now,” I manage, voice quiet.
“What do you want to—”
I pull my shift up, off, and let it fall, standing naked on the bank of the pool.
The blush that stains Otto’s cheeks is the single sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.
His jaw clamps, bulging by his ears, and his grip on the bar of soap tightens so much, so suddenly that it shoots out of his hand and sinks into the water with a heavykerplunk.
I laugh. The effervescence of the giggles takes me, and I cup my face, unable to stop it.
Otto grins, still blushing furiously, but there’s intent in his eyes now, something awakened, something feral.
He reaches up for me. “Liebste. Get in this pool.”
I plant a hand on my hip and fix him with my most defiant look. But my attention has whittled down to his eyes on my body. His focus here, and there, drifting lower.
“How does it usually go,” I start, throat thickening, “when you try to tell me what to do, jäger? Besides, we need another bar of soap.”
“I’ll find it later, hexe,” he growls. The tendons in his neck stretch, restraint fraying, and I’m all but floating with the contrasting needs to obey him and tease him more. “Get. In.”
“Are you sure? I think I saw more soap back by the—”
He surges to the edge of the pool, plants one hand on the bank’s smooth stones, and heaves himself up to grab for me. My giggles sharpen into a squeal as his powerful grip wraps around my forearm, and he hauls me bodily into the dark silken water of the pool.
38
OTTO
From the moment she let her shift fall to the ground, I have heard nothing but the thundering of my own heartbeat in my ears, a driving pulse ofneedthat pounds through my entire body. And now that she is in my arms, her lips upon mine, I am in the eye of the storm. The entire universe is a blur around me, but she—she is the center of my focus, the calm peace at the core, the perfect pinpoint of light my entire body is drawn to.
My hands, slick with water from the pool, draw up her bare back, fingers gliding along her spine, and she arches into me, and that alone nearly has me undone. I let out a shuddering breath.
“Nervous, jäger?” Fritzi asks, and there’s an undercurrent of emotion in her voice that I recognize.
“I am certain of what I want,” I say. “I want you.”
“And I want you.” Her words are a whisper, a promise.
“I need you to know, this is not some illicit tryst I ask of you,” I say, searching her eyes. “When I say I want you, I mean all of you, for all oftime. I do not want your body alone, Friederike; I wantyou, and I give myself to you, all of me that you desire.”
Her eyes light up. “There is quite a bit I desire.”
My grip at her back tightens, drawing her closer, in a way I know makes her feel what I too desire. Her head tilts up, and I claim her mouth in a deep kiss. The warm water lapping at our waists beckons us deeper. I pull us both back into the darker water as I worship at the altar of her lips.
At its deepest, the water comes just to the top of Fritzi’s chest. I turn us, ripples flowing around our bodies, and pin her against the smooth rock wall. Under the water, my fingers tense on her hips, and she leans back, spine curving over the supple edge of the pool.
“Please,” she whimpers.
