Page 95 of Ren: Warlord Brides
She moaned as hot water cascaded from overhead. Ren quickly stripped and joined her. He lathered and washed her back, letting the suds drip and pool in all her intriguing curves. The fullness of her ass held a particular appeal, glossy and round.
With her hands braced against the wall, she spread her legs and pushed back against him.
“Is this what you want?” he murmured in her ear.
“Yes. So much.”
Rinsing the soap from his hands, he then squeezed and parted the generous globes. Delving deeper, he found her curls wet and her folds slick. She moaned, pushing back against his hand.
“Patience.”
He turned her around and diligently cleaned every inch of flesh. Perhaps he gave her breasts more attention than necessary, but he needed to be thorough. He ran a cloth over the scars along her clavicle, the old scar faded and pale against her skin. He glanced down to find her watching him. Water clung to her lashes.
“I could have lost you before I even found you,” he said. He pressed a kiss to the scar. The fragility of her physical body frightened him, but her resilience filled him with awe.
Then he followed the shape of his bite, the scar he left on her shoulder. The marks were an angry red, even after all these years. It was not given in good faith and protested the insult.
Like his Emmarae.
“I am a selfish male,” he said, his finger skating across the mate mark. “I could not let you stay but I could not let you go.”
How she loved him, he did not understand. He was only thankful that she did.
“No more of that.” She rocked up on her toes and kissed him. While distracted, she took the soapy cloth from him. “My turn.”
With careful diligence, she lathered and washed him. Her hand slipped along his tail, pulling and tugging like she wanted him to spend. Perhaps she did. His mate had a wicked streak that made him wild. His cock was hard, but not yet emerged. It ached for release.
The cloth worked lower, caressing his abdomen, then his hips. Eventually, she sank to her knees and tossed the cloth aside.
Her tongue licked the seam of his genital pouch, the sensation running through him like an electrical current.
His cock emerged fully.
Without hesitation, his mate grasped it by the root and licked up the underside. His tail curled, then lashed violently, hitting the tiled walls. She dragged her tongue, impossibly soft and velvety, along the spines that clustered under the head. Nothing had a right to feel this good.
Then she wrapped her lips around his cock, swallowing as deeply as she could.
Her mouth was hot. Scorching. The overwhelming heat nearly undid him. Textures clashed. Her teeth were hard. Her tongue was velvet. Everything was warm and enveloped him until he couldn’t think.
She worked her mouth and hand together, sending more electrical charges up his spine.
He shielded her from the downpour of water, but enough fell to form rivulets down her face. Wet hair plastered against her skull. She looked up at him, her lips stretched wide around his cock.
Perfect.
She took his breath away.
He placed a gentle hand on her head, rubbing his thumb over her brow.
“Emmarae,” he whispered. His perfect mate.
This was too much. He wouldn’t last.
Ren pulled away and dragged her to her feet. “My turn.”
He sank to his knees, pressing his face to the juncture of her thighs. Despite the soap and the cascade of the shower, her scent was strongest here. He needed a taste. No. He needed to feast.
Ren slung a thigh over his shoulder, opening her.
