Only his attention brought no pain. There were gasps of surprise instead, little sounds coming from lips that spoke of trepidation, confusion, and a drugged hunger for more.
Water began to splash when his exploration grew more vigorous—what had been slow and meticulous became wild and unbearable. Head back against the lip of the tub, Pearl squeezed her eyes shut and found a rush unlike anything she’d known. Before she might stop herself, she cried out and lurched, spilling water and soaking the man’s shirt front.
He pressed a kiss to her slack lips as if she were some sleeping beauty waiting for the prince to wake her. “That is only a taste of what we have shared.”
In her wide, dazed eyes sat sluggish relief. This was no monster…
Hovering over her mouth, he smiled again. “Kiss me, my Pearl. Kiss me, and I shall be sweet.”
Kissing was not a familiar activity any more than the odd sensations of having a man touch her gently between her legs. All the others had shunted in ugly, hard flesh for their own pleasure. Usually they drew blood.
Certain now that she was drunk, ill, completely mad, she gave in and pressed her lips to his—because all of this had to be a dream, and rare sweet dreams should be savored.
There was an instant reward. His fingers went back to teasing that magical place even as his tongue tangled and teased hers. Moaning under him, unsure why her body moved as it did, Pearl gripped the edges of the tub as if that might anchor her in this wonderful sensation.
As she was about to crest, shatter, and be reborn, he stopped. Pulling his fingers from the fluttering hungry part of her body, his lips followed suit. A string of spittle stretching between them before it snapped. “Stand. I want to look at you all clean and shining in candlelight.”
She leveraged her weight against the tub, completely graceless as she fought feeble legs to stand. Without the comfort of the water, she felt like death warmed over.
“Ungh.” Unsteady, she swayed, and muttered, “I have been ill.”
Seated on his stool, he began to touch the tottering woman, humming approval when she leaned into his hands for support. “Fragile little kitten, you’re hungry.” He crooked his fingers, commanding her from the tub and to his lap. “Come.”
Ravenous, in fact. Swallowing, she looked to the thigh he indicated should serve as her seat, and muttered a dazed, “I’m wet. I’ll leave a mark.”
“Yes, you are. Now obey me. Come.” Flat out chuckling, he gave her hand a yank. She tripped from the tub, caught in his arms, and draped over his knee.
Breathless, she gawked over her shoulder when he set his hand to her rump and explored. As he leered and toyed between her cheeks, she felt more and more the prostitute and less the lover.
Exposed, weak, and growing cold, she sucked her lower lip between her teeth and tried to push away.
“No wriggling!”
She heard the sound of the smack before it registered how hard he’d struck her.
The flesh of her ass jiggled, stung horribly, and would bruise. But it was her pride that was far more damaged. Red faced, mortified and aching, she shook her head but had no words.
“Had you sat as you’d been told, I would have cuddled you dry with sweet kisses and soft words.” Drawing up a soft towel from where it rested beside the bath, he began to blot droplets away from her bowed back. He palmed her ass, squeezed that bruised flesh, and grinned when she looked away in shame. “I’m only teasing, Pearl. Who could resist such a view?”
Gently he turned her, sat the shamefaced woman on his knee and pressed a tender kiss to her temple. “We were playing a game before you fell asleep. I think we should play another.”
Aching, aroused, unwell, and starving, she sighed. “I’m not very good at games.”
Nuzzling her wet hair, he whispered, “But you win so often.”
“I’m cold.”
“You owe me one more kiss.” He was already at her mouth, sucking the trapped lip from her teeth before he added, “One more kiss, then we play a new game.”
The pressure, the friction, even the sharp edges of his teeth, all of it was his doing. She was trapped under the onslaught, gasping for air and shocked to feel the stirrings return between her thighs. But as it was, she could not kiss him, not with his tongue already in her mouth. If that was his game, she had no way to win. All she could do was try to make words that were swallowed, ignored, and grunted at.
But she was growing warm again. Every last attention he lavished on her felt… nice.
A rush grew in the place he’d explored under the water, a plumpness Pearl did not recognize that made her want to press harder to his thigh, and forget the lingering soreness of her ass.