To ruin an Omega novel Chapter 464

Chapter 464: Forever (M)

FIA

I followed him into the bathroom.

Steam already hung in the air from the Omega having helped me draw a bath that I did not take earlier. When I dipped my fingers into the massive porcelain tub, the water was still warm.

Cian moved past me to adjust the temperature. He turned the taps, and fresh water poured in with a rush that echoed off the tile walls. The sound filled the silence between us while we both pretended we weren’t acutely aware of each other’s presence.

I reached behind me for what remained of my dress zipper and pulled it the rest of the way down. The fabric slipped off my hips and fell to the floor in a heap of ruined silk and dried blood. My underwear followed.

When I looked up, Cian had stopped moving.

His hands were frozen on the edge of the tub. His eyes tracked over me with an intensity that made heat pool low in my belly all over again. The bond thrummed between us and carried his desire so clearly I could taste it.

"You’re staring," I said.

"Can you blame me?"

I smiled and stepped into the tub. The water was hot enough to make my skin prickle but not unbearable. I sank down into it with a sigh that came from somewhere deep in my chest. The heat seeped into my muscles and loosened knots I hadn’t realized were there.

Cian stripped off his remaining clothes without ceremony. I watched him do it and made no attempt to hide the fact that I was looking. He was beautiful in a way that had nothing to do with body aesthetics and everything to do with the fact that he was mine.

He climbed into the tub behind me. Water sloshed over the sides and splashed onto the tile floor. Neither of us cared.

His legs bracketed mine. His chest pressed against my back. His arms came around my waist and pulled me flush against him. I could feel every inch of him, including the evidence of his arousal pressing insistently against my lower back.

"Comfortable?" he murmured against my ear.

"Very."

His hands moved over my stomach in slow circles. Not sexual exactly. Just present. Grounding. Reminding me that we were here together and safe and whole.

I leaned my head back against his shoulder and closed my eyes, letting myself just exist in this moment without thinking about what came next or what we still had to deal with.

His lips found the curve of my neck. He pressed soft kisses there that made me shiver despite the heat of the water. One of his hands moved higher and cupped my breast. His thumb brushed over my nipple in lazy strokes that sent sparks of pleasure through me.

"I thought we were supposed to be cleaning up," I said.

"We are." His teeth grazed my earlobe. "Eventually."

I turned my head and caught his mouth with mine. The angle was awkward but neither of us seemed to care.

When I pulled back, I shifted in the water until I was facing him. My legs wrapped around his waist and brought us impossibly closer. His hands immediately went to my hips and held me there.

"Hi," I said.

"Hi."

I reached for the bar of soap sitting on the edge of the tub. It smelled like cedar and mint. I worked it between my hands until lather formed, then set the bar aside.

"Turn around," I said.

He raised an eyebrow but obeyed, shifting so his back was to me.

I ran my soapy hands over his shoulders and worked the lather into his skin with firm pressure that made him groan softly. My fingers traced the lines of muscle and still healing scar tissue, mapping every inch of him like I was trying to memorize it.

"That feels good," he murmured.

"Good."

I continued my exploration down his spine and over the planes of his back, along his sides, where I knew he was ticklish even though he’d never admit it. I took my time, made it thorough, made sure every bit of grime and dried blood was gone.

When I reached around to wash his chest, he caught my wrists.

"My turn."

He turned back around and took the soap from me. His eyes held mine while he worked up a fresh lather. Then his hands were on me.

He started with my shoulders. His touch was firm but careful, like he was handling something precious. His fingers worked the soap into my skin and chased away the tension still lingering there.

He moved lower. Over my collarbone and down to my breasts. His hands cupped them and his thumbs brushed over my nipples in a way that was definitely not just about cleaning. I bit my lip to keep from making a sound.

"You’re not playing fair," I said.

"Who said anything about fair?"

His hands continued their journey down my stomach and over my hips, along the outside of my thighs, before moving to the inside. Getting closer and closer to where I wanted him most but never quite touching.

"Cian."

"Hmm?"

"You’re teasing me."

"Am I?"

His fingers finally slipped between my legs. Not inside. Just there. Gliding through my folds with maddening lightness. The soap made everything slippery and heightened every sensation until I was trembling.

"Please," I breathed.

"Please what?"

I grabbed his wrist and guided his hand exactly where I wanted it. His fingers slipped inside me easily, two at once that stretched and filled me in the best possible way.

He groaned. "You’re so wet."

"Your fault."

He smiled and kissed me while his fingers worked inside me. His thumb found my clit and rubbed circles that had my hips moving against his hand, chasing the pleasure building low in my belly.

The water sloshed around us with each movement. Some of it spilled over the edge of the tub and onto the floor. I didn’t care. Couldn’t care about anything except the feeling of his fingers inside me and his mouth on mine and the heat coiling tighter and tighter.

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