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Leaning forward, I press a kiss below his ear. It’s a spot that makesmeshiver, and Calysian goes tense, his body leaning toward mine.

His breaths are shallow, his eyes strangely vulnerable. He’s barely holding onto control. Because ofme.

The thought is heady.

I know what I look like. I have, after all, been weaponizing my face and body since the moment I realized that women must use whatever tools the world begrudgingly grants us.

I’ve endured the leers of men old enough to be my father, their stares like a layer of filth dripping over my skin. And I learned early that the continual pursuit by men my own age had little to do with me, and everything to do with their need to prove themselves. To turn me into a conquest for their friends to admire.

Beautiful woman. Calysian has called me this since we met, and yet he’s never made me feel as if that’s all he can see.

He’s commanding and arrogant and so supremely sure of himself that he makes my teeth clench with fury.

But he’s also kind. When I poke him into caring about something, hecommits.

I bite down on my lower lip, and Calysian’s gaze instantly drops to my mouth. When his eyes meet mine once more, they hold a possessive gleam that makes me shiver.

I run the soap over his chest and arms before placing it on the small table next to the tub and using my hands to caress his body. His tense muscles remind me of a huge cat, readying itself to leap at its prey.

I let my fingers wander, allow my palms to stroke. I explore the ridges of his muscles, sweeping my hands over his smooth skin and learning every inch of him.

Finally, he reaches for the jugs of clean water next to the bath, using them to rinse the suds from both of us. When he pulls me to my feet, I’m shivering.

But not from the cold. From anticipation.

“Say the words,” he murmurs, and I don’t need to ask what they are.

I stare up at him, my breath hitching.

I’ve wanted many things over my lifetime. I wanted Regner dead. I wanted my freedom. I want Vicana and Kyldare to pay for what they’ve done.

But my craving for Calysian burns inside me with frightening intensity.

“I want you.”

His eyes blaze, and he leans close, brushing his lips down my throat, his hand curving around my lower back and holding me in place.

I shudder and feel him smile against my skin. “So responsive.”

My teeth clench—as they always do when he speaks with that arrogantly amused tone. Calysian captures my jaw, gently squeezing until my mouth opens. “None of that. You offered yourself to me. And I accept.” His voice is husky, and despite the dark promise in his words, I allow him to tilt my head back.

His tongue thrusts deep, swallowing my moan. Heat curls through me, my heart tripping in my chest. Our kiss goes on and on, tongues tangling, until Calysian raises his head, a dark promise in his eyes.

He lifts me out of the tub, the movement easy, careless, as if such an action didn’t take an incredible amount of strength. It seems unnatural—that such a large man can move with such careless grace. The natural grace of a god.

But he doesn’t seem like a god now. No, he seems like a man who wants to take a woman to bed.

When he presses the towel to every inch of my body, I feel…cherished.

“Now you,” I murmur, and he shakes his head, wiping roughly at his own body before dropping the towel to the floor.

His gaze caresses me, and he steps close, his mouth gentle as he brushes his lips against mine.

If I hadn’t spent so much time with this man, I might be intimidated by the span of his shoulders, the muscles that coil beneath my hand as I stroke his chest and back, learning his body the way he has already learned mine. My hands drift over muscle and sinew, and when I poke a finger into one of his ribs, he…shudders.

“You’re ticklish?”

“Surprised?” Calysian’s lips curve, and he strokes over my own ribs, watching me squirm.