Page 73 of The Fanged One

"Do I?" Linnea burst out laughing when he nodded solemnly. "You want to help me undress too?"

"Yes," he said, hands on the hem of her shirt. "Arms up."

Linnea was giggling because having someone undress her was absurd, but it lightened some of the heaviness that had crept inside her bones all the same.

They got into the water together, and for a little while, it stayed almost innocent. Almost. She took a cake of lavender and oat soap, worked it to a lather between her palms, and set her hands on his chest, and the fiction that she was washing him lasted exactly as long as it took to slide both soapy hands down his stomach and lower.

"You missed a spot," she said sweetly.

One of Fenris's brows went up. "Did I?"

"Mm. Down here. Filthy." She closed her hand around his cock under the water, already half hard, and stroked from root to crown, her thumb dragging over the head. "Honestly. The state of you."

Fenris's hands gripped the sides of the tub and let out a soft, "Fuck."

Ours, her wolf said. Make him beg.

He let her work him, his breath going ragged against her hair, his hips rolling up into her fist. One big hand closed over her wrist, not to stop her, just to ride the motion of what she was doing to him.

"My turn to wash you," he said roughly. "You're filthy too. I can smell what looking at me does to you."

"That's the swamp."

"That's not the swamp." He took the soap out of her hand. He dragged a slick palm up her belly to her breast, rolled her nipple between two fingers until her spine curved. He traced the same slow path back down, under the water, the soap rinsing from his fingers before they slid between her legs. His finger settled on her clit and circled. "There. Found the spot that needs the most attention."

"It's unfair you can find it that fast," Linnea whimpered.

"Now who is filthy?" he whispered and did it again.

Fenris played with her until her hips were chasing his hand, and the water sloshed at the rim of the bath. Linnea fisted his hair and buried a moan against his shoulder as she came with a wave of full-body tremors.

"Fenris..." she moaned, pressing her face into his neck and fighting to catch her breath.

"Hold on," he warned and lifted her clean out of the water. Linnea was boneless as he set her bare and dripping on the wooden counter.

"What…" she began, and without warning, he dropped down on his knees on the stone and pushed her thighs wide.

He looked up at her, his eyes dark. "Stay right there so I can clean you properly this time."

His mouth closed over her, and Linnea's head dropped back against the wall. He licked her slowly, his tongue working her clit while two fingers pushed inside her.

Linnea gripped his head with one hand, the other going behind her to brace against the wall. "Oh, gods, that's…right here," she babbled.

Fenris thrust and curled his fingers in a maddening rhythm until she came against his mouth with a gasping shout. He held her hips and worked her through every wave of it until he lifted his head, mouth wet, and looking unbearably pleased with himself.

"Bed," he growled, hauling her up off the counter, both hands under her thighs, her legs locking around his waist, and made it four steps before her back hit the wall and stayed there.

"What about bed?" she asked, laughing softly.

"Too far away." Fenris notched the head of his cock against her soaked entrance and lowered her down onto him in one long, slow stroke. Linnea's legs locked tight around him, moaning and helpless as he filled her completely.

"Perfect," he gasped, resting his forehead against hers. "Right where you belong and can't run away. You have almost given me a heart attack ten times since the trials started. I like you better like this, where you can't get into trouble."

"I never get into trouble." Linnea pulled his mouth to hers and kissed him. "But I have to agree. This is a much better situation to be in."

"Good, because I'm not letting you go until I've fucked all the worry and anxiety out of both of us." Fenris pinned her tight against the timber with his full weight and started to move. He wasn't being gentle, and she loved it. She needed to feel him deep and hard and all-consuming. His hips drove up into her, the wet sound of it between them, his control fraying with every thrust. She raked her nails down his back, and his growl rolled through his chest into hers.

"You came into the dark for me." His hand moved to grip the wall above her, his voice broken. "You didn't run away, knowing what I am. You roped yourself to me and walked into hell." His grip on her thigh tightened hard enough to bruise. "You keep choosing me."