Page 38 of Prize for the King
“Can I bathe now?” I ask, my fingers flexing with the urge to undo his messy updo and touch his soft hair.
“Oh, yes.”
Khay’s long fingers brush the soft skin of my lower belly as he undoes the ribbons tightening my underwear around my hips. He slides them off my thighs, and I turn away, rushing to step in the bathtub and be covered—by water, at least.
But the bathtub is huge, and I hesitate, thinking how high I’ll have to raise my leg to get in. I don’t even worry about my aching thighs at this point, only about how that motion will expose me.
“That’s what I’m here for,” Khay rasps, standing behind me.
His warm palms settle on my waist, fingers kneading my flesh fora heartbeat, and he lifts me up with ease. I sit in the tub, hot water reaching up to my breasts. Khay takes a deep breath and turns away, and I close my eyes, desperately trying to calm down my breathing.
I don’t understand what just happened, but something tells me Khay isn’t the right man to experience it with. If anyone should make me feel this way, it’s my husband.
I swallow the tightness in my throat, wondering if I’m going insane. Not even a week has passed since they stole my kingdom, killed my father, and took me away. Why do I have a ridiculous, wild urge to grab Khay by the hair and pull him into the bathtub with me?
It’s a crazy thought, one coming from the same place that’s relieved my father is dead.
“No, I won’t pretend nothing happened,” Khay says quietly, his back to me.
The water splashes against the copper tub as I turn to watch him, folding my arms on the rounded lip.
“Will you explain it to me?” I ask, hoping maybe he has an answer to the insanity raging within me.
“I’ll try,” he says with a rueful laugh. “I… I haven’t touched a naked woman in ten years. That’s when Magnar became king and made me his first knight. For ten years, I waited for a queen, only to be disappointed time and again. You see… The queen… Is the only woman I’m allowed to touch. The only one Iwantto touch. And now, here you are, and I… I can barely hold it together. I’m sorry. I’ll try to do better, my lady.”
I watch his back, heaving with sharp breaths, his hands tightened into hard fists at his sides. I think Khay is in pain. I understand it, because there’s a strange, deep ache pulsing in my belly.
“Are you overwhelmed?” I ask.
He snorts without amusement. “You could say that. I’m… trying to be respectful, my lady, and I’m doing my best not to be crude right now. If I don’t control my words, I won’t control anything anymore, and it will end badly. I am only allowed to touch you intimately with your permission.”
I shake my head, frustrated. That tells menothing, though it’s good to know Khay won’t fondle me if I don’t ask him to do it. It’s also—disappointing.
I gasp a little, shocked by that thought. I never expected I would enjoy any sort of intimate touch, not after my father… But… But he’s gone. And he only ever touched me through my clothes.
This is different, so different. The sensations in my belly have nothing in common with the slimy disgust his caresses evoked.
I wonder what Khay feels, though. He still hasn’t said it clearly. Is he dismayed? Maybe having to touchmemakes him squirm with loathing inside.
No, I can’t be the cause of such suffering.
“Khay, do you hate this? Do you want to leave? I can bathe on my own, and I’ll get out as soon as I’m done and won’t drown, I pro…”
He moves so fast, I fall silent from shock. Khay drops to his knees in front of the tub, his face an inch away from mine. His eyes are enormous up close, glistening and dark.
“Caliane, I amlovingthis. You misunderstood me. Here is the only place I want to be, and so I beg you, don’t tell me to go.”
I shake my head, bemused by how ardent he sounds. The usually smirking Khay is desperate, his face flushed, lips parted as he watches me with wide, pleading eyes.
“No, I… Stay. Unless you hate it, that is.”
He barks out a strange, choked-up laugh. “Nothing can make me hate this. I… Can I wash you?Please.Your skin is so soft, and I can’t… I’ll be respectful. I promise.”
Tingles spread across my chest and back, hot and pleasant. I want to say yes so badly. But I have to ask first.
“Won’t Magnar be angry?” I whisper.
Khay sighs, his face softening. “He’ll be jealous but pleased. The queen should trust her knights. Then again, I can ask him to come. But let me warn you—he won’t be able to wait any longer if he sees you like this. Your wedding night will be tonight.”
