“How long before?” She was unable to hide her interest, as she pouted her lower lip, awaiting his answer.
“Nigh on a fortnight before I arrived here.” Then, his tone light and teasing, he said, “Methought you wanted me to have mistresses.”
“I do.” Even to her own ears, her words were unconvincing. The idea of him in such a position with another woman bothered her greatly. “Just not right now. What I mean to say is, will you be moving to Blackwell with them?”
“Nay.” Brant nuzzled her, placing a kiss on the top of her head. “Nay, I will be living here.”
“With them?”
“Nay, Della.” Brant swallowed hard.
“You would not lie?” Della nudged him under the chin with her head. He stroked her hair and she was very aware of his heartbeat against her hand. It was strong and sure, just like the rest of him.
“Nay, I will never lie to you, Della.”
She placed a soft, shy kiss next to his collarbone and he didn’t move to stop her. The feel of his arousal grew larger beneath her, tangling in the wet folds of her nightclothes. The water had cooled, or mayhap it was because he was so hot that the water felt colder in comparison.
Her breasts strained against the confines of her gown, her nipples hard. Again, she became frightened. Suddenly she drew away and he didn’t stop her. Della pulled at her wet gown to better hide the shape of her breasts. As she looked into his blue gaze, she knew they’d strayed into strange emotional territory for both of them.
“I should get out.” Nervous, Della tried to stand. Pushing against the rim of the tub, she straightened her legs to rise precariously over him. Brant angled his head to better see down her nightgown and grinned. A hot glow flamed her face at his interest.
Ducking his head under water to rinse off the remaining soap, Brant resurfaced with a gasp. He pushed his hair out of his face. Droplets trickled over his chest in captivating rivulets.
Della straightened fully, teetering as he moved in the water, uncertain if the heaviness in her limbs was from the wet gown or his nearness. She’d been so close to him, had felt his firm body pressed intimately against her, and yet he didn’t touch her as he had before. Where was his barbaric passion? Mayhap she talked too much, demanded too much with her questions. Mayhap he decided he didn’t want her anymore.
She began to lift her foot to climb out of the bath, but before she could move, his large hands clasped her bare feet to stop her from leaving. His fingers stroked her toes, only to work slowly over her ankles and up her calves. She panted, her breath quivering as pleasure rippled over her. His hands dipped down only to glide back up over her skin with the aid of the water. When he leaned forward to reach farther up her gown, her knees weakened, her whole being focused on his touch.
Brant’s eyes stared piercingly at her, holding her captive in their powerful trance. His will overtook hers and she knew she would do anything he asked of her. She didn’t care if he cast a spell over her. How could she, if it felt like this? The whole world faded away—the knights belowstairs, the servants, Strathfeld Castle, and the Vikings. She was just a woman and he was just a man, alone in their chambers.
Della welcomed the myriad of sensations that his touch brought to her body. Her breathing deepened, becoming ragged gasps of air. His hands passed the intimate curve of her knees and slid their way to the back of her thighs. Brant’s head was only a hairsbreadth away from her midsection. He focused on her stomach and his nose came very close to nuzzling between her thighs. She grew hot and moist at the close attention. He kneeled, a pleasant smile on his face as he rubbed her legs under the wet gown. Each movement was slow and easy.
She gazed past the top of his head and saw the tip of his hardened serpent peeking out of the water. It peered at her like a sea dragon. Della took a deep breath, fearfully thinking of Ebba’s counsel.
“Why do you wear so many layers to bed?” Brant groaned as the heavy folds of her gown inhibited his roaming. He dipped his hands back into the water, only to move them once more over her legs. Nestling his face intimately against the apex of her thighs, he inhaled through the wet material, shamelessly reveling in her scent. She trembled.
Della watched him in wide-eyed wonder. As he leaned his head nearer her center, her body weakened. She could feel the press of his chin pushing intimately against her sex. His mouth opened wide where her hip met her thigh and he gave her an opened-mouth kiss through the cooling fabric, heating it and her. She moaned lightly, unable to move, unsure what to do. His lips closed and he pulled the wet material into his mouth, biting it with his teeth, enflaming it with his breath. Her strength gave out and she was forced to put her hands on his shoulders for support.