A Dawn of Onyx (The Sacred Stones, #1)(51)

I had been this sore after my footrace with Kane, too. It had been a while since I had exerted my muscles that much, but my aching legs had been far more welcome than whatever this full-body bruise from training was. Thinking of my day with Kane brought all kinds of conflicting feelings to mind. His infuriating arrogance. Our argument. His stance on love and trust. But also, his willingness to bring me along into the woods, just because I needed to get out. Our playful wager. Our swim.

That ride back to the castle…

The thought of him behind me, glistening as the sun went down, maybe even hardening at the sensation of my body in his arms… I didn’t want to feel anything for him, but I couldn’t help it. The memory brought back an intense ache in my core and my nipples pebbled even in the warm water.

Alone, in the privacy of the washroom, surrounded by the candles’ dim light, I allowed myself to slip a hand down my stomach and between my legs. It was an entirely different feeling thinking of Kane rather than Halden—a want so pure and demanding, I couldn’t bear to leave it unanswered. I thought of Kane’s wicked grin, his deep and husky laugh, and the way he nearly pressed me up against the rocks in the pond.

I wondered what might have happened had I not been so focused on escape. What if I had taken the sheer camisole off altogether? Would he have been able to hold himself back? Or would he have ravaged me, consuming me completely until we were one?

I imagined his hands grasping at me, coaxing a moan from my lips, whispering in my ear what my most intimate sounds were doing to him. I rubbed circles between my legs, feeling the pressure build throughout my body, want pooling low in my belly.

I ached for him.

I wanted him to touch me so desperately it was all-consuming. I brought my other hand up to my breast and massaged it gently, thinking of his hands, their strength, and how his rough touch would feel. He was so dangerous, so lethal. It was shameful—mortifying—how much it had begun to turn me on.

As I pictured Kane, his name slipped out of my lips in a soft gasp. Even in the water, I felt wetness pooling at my center, and I pushed one finger in slowly. I moaned, eyes screwed shut in pleasure, as my release built. Withdrawing nearly to the tip, before plunging back in, I imagined it was Kane’s hand, using me, playing with me, wringing cries from my throat and tears of ecstasy from my eyes. Would he be rough? Jaw tight, hands punishing, demanding moan after moan, sob after sob… or would the wicked king be surprisingly gentle? Restraining himself, afraid to thrust too hard, shaking with the need to keep himself in control… My fantasies were unhinged. I was so close, I could almost feel his tongue on my neck, his grunts against me, the way—

I was shaken from my filthy imagination by the sound of heavy footsteps coming from my bedroom.

Fear cut through me.

I stood up, dousing the floor in water, prepared for whatever might come through the washroom doors. I looked around for some kind of weapon and grabbed the nearest candlestick.

“Arwen? Are you al—” Kane barged in, hand on his sheathed sword, but stopped short upon seeing my soaked, naked form. He made a guttural noise that sounded almost like a whimper and turned around quickly.

“Fuck,” his voice cracked, and he cleared his throat. “Sorry.”

I dropped down into the tub with an ungraceful splash to hide my body. “What are you doing in here? Don’t you knock?” I asked, but it came out like a shriek.

“I was coming to ask you a question and then I heard—I thought you were hurt,” he said to the wall, still facing away from me. “I—never mind.”

I squirmed. Still hot all over—from the steaming bath, from embarrassment, from… I shook the images of Kane’s lust-soaked eyes and parted, breathless lips from my mind.

“Well, I’m fine. And you can turn back around now.”

Kane slowly faced me. I had wrapped my arms around my chest, and the tub covered the rest of my body. The salts had made the water opaque, like a blanket of liquid white. Somehow, he looked almost as embarrassed as I felt.

A horrible thought entered my mind, and all others eddied out.

“What made you think I was hurt?” I tried not to sound hysterical.

“I thought I heard…” Now his cheeks were truly flushed. I couldn’t tell if it was from arousal or shame. Maybe both.

I recovered quickly. “Don’t be crude, Kane. I’m just sore, Dagan is teaching me to swordfight. Haven’t you ever had a sore muscle? Or were you born looking Stones-carved?”

Ugh. I was overdoing it.

He relaxed a bit and his wolfish grin returned. He leaned against the wall. “Someone’s spirited this morning.”

I shook my head and closed my eyes, laying back in the tub. I let the warm water rise up around my neck and calm me down before I looked at him again.

“Smells nice.” He wandered closer but kept a respectful distance. I wasn’t sure if I appreciated that or hated it more than anything.

“The salts are scented with white lilies. They’re my favorite flower.”

He smiled a new smile, a relaxed and pleasant look I rarely saw on him. It took my breath away.

“Really? We don’t get many of those here in Onyx.”

“I know,” I said. “My mother told me they only bloom in Amber. That’s why it’s my middle name, she said I was born surrounded by them.”