Page 48

48

Clean heat sank into Rose’s muscles, loosening the knots of the last few days. She let her head tip back, eyes fluttering shut as the water lapped over her skin, its warmth teasing away tension, drawing her into its embrace.

When she opened her eyes, Finn stood on the far side of the bath, watching her.

Not just watching. Devouring.

He reached for the taps, shutting them off before the water overflowed. The motion was slow, deliberate—like everything about him. Power held in check. When he straightened, his gaze never wavered. It locked onto hers, pinning her in place without a single touch.

Her breath shallowed.

The immense breadth of his chest tapered to a lean, hard waist. The tattoo she’d glimpsed before wasn’t just on his arm—it flowed like water across his shoulder, down his side, mapping the ridges of his abdomen in dark, fluid ink.

God.

She’d never seen such a magnificent man.

He reached for his belt.

A swish of leather as he pulled it free. The sound switched through the fragrant air, slipping over her skin like a touch.

He let the belt fall to the floor.

Then his hands went to the button fly of his cargo pants.

One button.

A slow pop as the fabric released.

Two.

Her breath caught, the sound vibrating through her.

Three.

Desire loosed deep in her belly, twisting low, dark, and unfamiliar. Not a spark. A slow, deliberate burn.

He pushed his pants down, shucked them off, and straightened.

Sweet. Jesus.

Finn was naked.

No underwear. No barriers. Nothing between them now but air and heat.

Freed from his clothes, his erection stood hard against the dark hair on his lower abdomen, leaving her in no doubt.

He wanted her.

Her pulse slammed a frantic rhythm. She wanted him just as much. He slid into the water, closing the distance between them in seconds.

Heat swirled around her, but it was nothing compared to the fire in his gaze. Under the weight of it, she felt strong, capable.

Desired.

In the last few days she’d been to hell and back, but in this moment, she’d never felt more alive.

Warmth rocketed deep inside her. No one had ever looked at her like this. Made her feel like such a desirable woman. The raw connection blindsided her, shook something loose she wasn’t sure she could ever put back.

Water slicked off his powerful frame, darkening the ink that marked his skin, turning it into something wild.

Everything they’d survived in the Io together had changed something hidden inside her. What she’d once thought was only appreciation for this protective, lethal man had morphed into something far more dangerous.

More real.

She licked her lips. She’d had a taste of him and she wanted more.

Even if it was just for this one night.

Because that’s all it could be, right? A moment stolen from reality, a collision of fire and fate.

Her breasts were heavy, full, aching for his touch.

Finn inhaled sharply, his pupils darkening with raw, undiluted need and a slow, wicked thrill shot through her. She pushed her shoulders back, emboldened by the way his gaze tracked every movement like he was starving.

The hard wall of his body bumped hers. Heat. Packed muscle. Finn.

Anticipation crackled over her skin.

He lifted a damp strand of hair from her forehead, tucking it back with surprising gentleness, his voice a reverent growl. “So fucking beautiful.”

Blood scalded her cheeks, her pulse hammering in her throat.

Finn caught her chin, tilting her face until she had no choice but to meet his gaze. “Don’t let anyone tell you different.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “Smart.” His lips brushed over her closed eyelids. “Determined.” A sharp graze of teeth against her earlobe. “Bolshie.”

Her eyes flew open as his words startled her into a breathless laugh. “Bolshie?”

He smirked. God, that smirk.

“I like a woman who can take care of herself.”

His words speared through her, electric and undeniable, sending shockwaves to her core. His fingers drove into her hair, anchoring her as he tilted her head back, exposing her throat. Before she could draw breath, his mouth was there, hot and claiming. The scrape of his teeth sent little detonations of pleasure skittering across her skin, each tiny bite stoking the heat pooling between her thighs.

Her knees gave, but Finn was already there, his grip firm on her shoulders, keeping her above the waterline. Sensation ran through her like quicksilver, liquid and all-consuming.

He traced a deliberate path up the curve of her neck, unraveling her with every heated press, every slow drag of his mouth. When he reached the delicate shell of her ear, his teeth caught her lobe, his bite just enough to make her gasp. Her fingers locked on his arms, her nails pressing into sinewy muscle, seeking something to hold on to as the world narrowed to the feel of him.

“I want you.” His voice was thick. Rough-edged. “More than I’ve ever wanted any woman.” The rasp of his unshaven beard scraped the sensitive curve of her ear.

Breathe. She forced herself to inhale, to exhale. In. Out. In. Out.

“We almost died,” she whispered, trying to secure herself to reason. “Is this just—survival? Gratitude we’re alive?”

Finn’s hand skimmed down, tracing her contours, until his palm covered her breast. Rough, yet tender. “No.” The timbre of his voice shifted to a deep rumble. “Do you want me, Rose? Do you want this?”

Everything about him was a contrast to her. His gritty strength to her measured intellect, his physicality to her precision. And yet, instead of clashing, they fit.

She grasped his wrist, pressing his palm against the frantic rhythm of her heartbeat, letting him feel what he did to her.

Then, reaching for one of the sea sponges beside the bath, she dipped it into the warm water, watching it darken and swell in her fingers. She let it soak, swirling it gently, before pressing it into his hands.

She wanted to wash away the weight of everything—of finding and losing her sister in the span of days, of grief bound too tightly around her heart.

She wanted to erase it, rewrite it. With Finn. “Wash me.”

Silently, he squeezed body wash onto the sponge, soap foaming between his large hands. “Come here.”

He pulled her back against him, her spine meeting the solid heat of his chest, his iron-hard cock pressing against the curve of her lower back.

Slowly, deliberately, he ran the soapy sponge over her skin, sweeping across the delicate slope of her shoulders, down the curve of her arms. Then lower, circling her breasts, teasing her nipples into aroused taut peaks.

Rose sighed, her eyes fluttering shut. Without sight, everything sharpened. The silken slide of lather against her skin, the rasp of his breath at her ear, the shifting lap of warm water around them.

She had waited so long for this.

For him.

His hands moved lower, dragging soap-slick heat down her stomach. His touch ignited embers beneath her skin that caught and flared. She wanted him to linger. To move faster. To go lower. To shatter her completely.

His mouth found her neck again, teeth nipping, teasing her apart with every glorious bite, every scrape of stubble. Something brittle in her detonated under his touch.

He slid the sponge between her thighs, its texture a delicious contrast to the glide of creamy lather.

Oh God ? —

The touch of his fingers.

Skilled and devastating.

Pleasure jolted through her as he parted her folds, his thick fingers finding the swollen bud at her center. A breathy moan escaped her as he circled her clit with slow, ruthless precision. One powerful arm banded around her waist, trapping her against him.

Her hips jerked, greedy for more. But Finn controlled the rhythm, controlled her. His voice guttural in her ear. “Good girl.”

Don’t stop. Never stop.

Exquisite pleasure gathered, a storm churning inside her, its power rising?—

She arched, gasping, her breath fusing with his. Her fingers fisted in his damp hair as he dragged her mercilessly higher.

She was coming apart.Her breath was ragged, her body bowstring-tight?—

Finn.

A white-hot deluge of sensation tore through her. Lightning on water. The world blurred, her thoughts splintering as she trembled in his arms, surrendering.

Rose sagged, boneless, knowing she couldn’t lie to herself any more.

She was his.

And nothing in the world could ever change that now.