Page 141 of Soulbound
"Well, I was, but he keeps distracting me."
"My apologies, my love. Are you using soap?" he sent, pressing his palm over his mouth, for the idea of her in the bath shook him. It was such a normal thing. A day-to-day thing.
"I have soap."
He pushed all the other overwhelming emotions out of the way. "Do you? Tell me about your soap... and what you plan to do with it...."
"Always giving me orders...." But it was not a complaint. He sensed her picking up the washcloth and lathering it. "But since you like to be in control, what would you like me to do with the soap?"
Her breasts obliterated his thoughts. "Touch yourself," he whispered through their link.
"Where?" If she was here, he'd have been able to see the blush on her cheeks.
"Touch yourself," he sent again. "Wash your breasts for me. Soap those pretty nipples."
There was something to be said for telepathy. For a soul-bond. He shifted uncomfortably on the carriage seat, his cock straining against his trousers as he closed his eyes, all the better to feel what she was feeling.
Cleo dragged the washcloth over her chest, leaving a wake of suds. He could almost see through her eyes, and the sight made his cock pulse. She caressed her swollen nipples. "They're clean. Where else would you like me to soap?"
"You know where."
"Do I?"
"Part your legs," he breathed, "and drag that cloth between them."
Cleo's knees slowly sank against the sides of the bath. Her breath caught as she did as instructed, and he felt the slither of the cloth echo over his belly and cock. An odd sensation. Her flesh imprinted on his.
He caught a flash of image: a pale hand sliding down a woman's smooth stomach, delving beneath a mess of bubbles.
"How far away are you?" Cleo panted.
He flipped the blind up, recognizing the streets around him. "A minute or two." A smile broke across his mouth. "Why?"
"Because I don't know how long I can wait."
"Then don't," he replied. "Come for me, Cleo. I want you to be wet and ready for when I get there."
* * *
She felt him moving through the house like a brewing storm. Hunger itched within his skin, and anticipation swam through her. Drake had deeded them the town house, suggesting Sebastian and Cleo enjoy their time together with a small wink, and she delighted in having her own home. Everything she might have inherited from her father was deeded away through the male line—a distant cousin she could barely recall—but here they had a place of their own.
Hurrying out of the water, Cleo reached for her robe, dragging it over her shoulders just as the door opened. Sebastian appeared, a hard man dressed all in black. His eyes glittered as they raked over her, and she was suddenly aware of how tightly the silk clung to her wet body as he shut the door with a loud, controlled click.
"I—"
He stepped forward, pressing a finger to her mouth. Need clenched between her thighs at the relentless look in his eyes. She'd thought she was done, but desire flared back to life like a wildfire at the stroke of his finger.
She was restless enough that she turned her face to and fro, her wet mouth rasping against the press of his fingers. Those bird-of-prey eyes locked on her, and Sebastian pressed her back, her bottom biting into the vanity, one hand resting on her hip.
Nothing needed to be said. Cleo shivered as Sebastian slowly dragged that finger down her sensitive mouth and chin, and lower, down her throat. His gaze dipped, tracking the press of silk as he circled her nipple. The ache of it speared through her. She bit her lip, trying not to moan. Trying not to yield to the touch, though her knees wobbled.
Sebastian swooped down, his teeth biting into her throat in a sensation that made her jump. She captured his wrist in surprise, but everything else in her arched back, surrendering to the moment. He wasn't going to be sweet or tender tonight. She knew it.
And a restless part of her craved it.
"Fuck me." She wound her hands through his hair as he ravished her throat. "Fill me."
He was no longer hesitant in her bed, and she was not as naïve as she'd been once.
