She pulled one foot out of the water. ‘I’ll get some scissors.’
‘No need.’ Hands on her hips, he pulled her to the very edge and leaned in toward her stomach.
Her fingers tightened on his biceps and she arched away from him. ‘What are you doing?’
‘Removing the knots. Hold still.’ He brought his mouth to her warm skin, found the knot with his tongue, and bit it off. She inhaled, body tensing. He leaned back, pulled the knot out of his mouth and showed it to her. ‘See?’
Her eyes had the look of a woman drunk on something she’d never tasted before, but there was conflict there, too. ‘We shouldn’t do this. I shouldn’t do this.’
He held on to her. ‘Then tell me to stop.’
She swallowed. ‘I don’t want to, even though I think I should.’
‘Because of Mal?’
She didn’t reply or try to leave. Enough of an answer for him. He took longer this time, trailing his tongue over her salty-sweet skin. Her nails dug into his flesh and she moaned softly.
‘Oh,’ she breathed. ‘That feels … ’
‘Good?’
‘Wrong.’ She exhaled. ‘We shouldn’t be doing this.’
‘You said that already.’ He kept his hands on her hips. The heat from her skin melted into his palms and traveled through his veins, sparking a fresh blaze within him.
‘It goes against everything I was raised to believe.’
A tick of desperation tensed his jaw. ‘The covenant is broken and you no longer live under comarré law.’ Despite the fact that she clung to many of the old ways. He forced the frustration out of his voice. He understood she was still finding her path. He brushed his thumbs over her ribs before taking his hands off her completely. ‘No one owns you. Not anymore.’
‘You mean Mal, don’t you?’ she said softly.
‘I just mean you’re free to make your own decisions.’ The pool lights switched on, surrounding them in a pale blue glow. He wanted to kiss her. Not a halfhearted peck like the last time when he’d been short on courage and long on doubt. A real kiss. The kind that would stay with her well after he’d left her for the evening.
But more than that, he wanted her to kiss him. For the intimacy to be her idea. Even now, he could see the temptation playing in her eyes.
She put her hands on the edge of the pool and lowered herself into the water, then planted her hands on his chest. ‘You’re smoother than I thought you’d be.’
She’d thought about what he would feel like. Knowing that made standing still a test of his control. Not pulling her into his arms was nearly impossible. He shivered with pent-up energy but let her do as she wished. Her fingers mapped the hollow of his throat, the crevices of his collar-bone, the valley of his chest.
‘Turn,’ she directed him.
He did, feeling the weight of her gaze on him, on the words branded into his skin. He stood for her, letting her look her fill.
After a bit, her fingertips found the raised lines and began to trace them. ‘Omnes honorate,’ she whispered.
‘Honor all men,’ he answered back.
‘Do you?’
‘The ones who deserve it, yes.’
Her fingers traveled on, sending small electric shocks through his body. ‘Fraternitatem diligite.’
‘Love the brotherhood,’ he translated, knowing full well she could read the words.
‘Have the Kubai Mata been good to you?’
‘They’ve brought me to you.’
She sketched the next phrase. ‘Deum timete.’ A smile played in her voice.
‘Fear God.’
‘What else do you fear?’
More things than he could count. ‘Nothing.’
‘Regem honorificate.’ Her fingers stopped there, making the rest of his body ache for the same attention.
‘Honor the king,’ he responded.
‘Who is your king, Creek?’
He turned to face her. ‘Who’s yours?’
Her eyes held a rebellious sparkle. ‘I have no king. Now answer the question or I’ll alert the KM that you don’t uphold your vows.’
No longer willing to wait, he pulled her into his arms. ‘You glitter like a king’s ransom. That should satisfy them.’
He kissed her, the way he’d been longing to. He was not disappointed.
She kissed him back.
Chapter Twenty-six
‘I see you’re busy.’ And not with you, the voices taunted Mal. If thoughts could kill, Creek would be headless and missing his genitalia. The pair sloshed apart and Mal noticed the flush of pleasure across Chrysabelle’s very exposed upper body. She was not the innocent in this situation as he’d first perceived, but certainly Creek had kissed her, not the other way around. Guilty, guilty, guilty …
Creek looked like a cat fat with cream. Chrysabelle looked like she’d just accidentally drop-kicked a kitten. Mal fought a tempest of emotion, none of it good. The voices laughed at him, told him this was what he deserved. What he should have expected from any woman in his life. Betrayed. Again.
She fiddled with the strap of her sports bra. ‘I didn’t expect you.’
‘You asked me to come.’ Had she meant him to see this? Yes. Fine. He’d seen it. Remember it. He didn’t need to be hit with a sledgehammer to get the hint. She liked Creek. Anyone but you. He was human, Mal understood that. He couldn’t compete with a human. And apparently, his answer to why he liked her hadn’t been enough.