The woman had waist-length silver hair, and silver lines of magic moved through her, which the artist had captured beautifully. Her face was hidden, and yet I didn’t need to see it to know whose image adorned Rhys’s bedroom wall. The woman was leaning against pillows, with her legs bared beneath the exquisite dress she wore. It would have been a risqué pose for that era, considering the style of clothing she wore. I felt a pang of regret that another woman from my family had won the honor to hang on Rhys’s wall.
Dismissing the image, and the tightening in my throat, I entered the lavish bathroom that screamed luxury. Reaching into the shower stall, I adjusted the water to a comfortable level and pulled the sheet from my body, folding it before setting it on the white marble countertop.
A bottle of cologne sat beside the single sink, and I grinned. Moving closer, I picked it up, inhaling the rich, sensual scent of Rhys before placing it back on the counter. I found an iPod dock and looked at the wall, noting that it sat on a shelf. Thumbing through the recently played list, I smirked, finding Simple Man by Lynyrd Skynyrd, and pushed play.
I stepped into the shower, closing the glass door behind me. Steam billowed from the heated spray. The guitar strumming soothed my soul with the help of the water. I leaned against the stall as water shot from multiple showerheads, massaging my sore body deliciously. My hand lifted, touching my lips, remembering the feel of him against my mouth.
My thoughts slid back to the taste of him, and the way he’d looked finding pleasure in my clumsy attempt to give it to him. He’d felt right against me, his hand on my throat should have terrified me, but it hadn’t. He was dominant, or his demon was. His touch stroked my body into a raging inferno that burned hot with a need to match it.
I was the world’s biggest idiot, but I hadn’t known about dream-walking. I hadn’t known it was even a remote possibility, and yet I’d woken on my knees, fully awake from what I’d assumed was a dream. It should have terrified me, but I wasn’t afraid. I’d felt embarrassed, sure. Who wouldn’t have? Most people would be mortified from feeling brazen in their dreams, only to discover that they hadn’t dreamed it at all.
There was a wealth of embarrassment, but I’d liked making him moan with the knowledge that I was creating the storm within him. It was empowering to make a dominant male weak with need. And he was weakened. He’d been powerless to do anything other than accept what I’d done to him with my mouth.
I slid my soapy hands over my body, remembering the look of liquid heat pooling in his eyes as he’d discovered me taking him hungrily between my lips. He was surprised with a hint of worry banked in his eyes, but that heat I’d seen caused my body to clench hungrily for his thick cock. He hadn’t feigned shock, and he’d tried to warn me, but I pushed his hands away because I had wanted to taste him. When reality crashed down on my head, it rendered me speechless that I’d done something so brazenly sexual, and was angry at myself for being naïve.
My fingers pushed against the swollen nub, gasping at finding the flesh so sensitive. I worried my lip with my teeth as my eyes fluttered open to find Rhys leaning against the counter with his arms folded over his chest. His narrowed gaze followed my hand, and I stalled my movement, as those fiery-blue eyes lifted to lock with mine, his smile turning wicked as my knees weakened.
Rhys tilted his head toward the music, hiking one brow up in silent question before he vanished from sight. The music changed, and I shifted nervously as he reappeared naked. I Put A Spell On You by Nina Simone started as he stepped into the shower without an invitation while jazz filled the room.
“That’s a good song,” I groaned, stepping back, sliding my eyes over his hard, muscular body with a hunger that I couldn’t hide.
“It is, and rather fitting considering what you’re thinking about in my shower,” he smirked, turning toward the showerhead, letting the spray of the water sluice down his immensely powerful body before he turned, smiling as he moved closer to me.
“What happens now, Rhys?” I asked, grabbing the soap as I started washing my arms.
“Between us or from here?” he countered, turning facing the shower to wash his chest.
“From here,” I amended.
“You’re going to show me where your mother lived, and why you think something happened to her.”
“No, I am not!” I scoffed, staring at the smile curving his generous mouth. “I’m not taking you to my mother’s house. She’d murder me.”
His eyes darkened with heat pooling in his gaze as they slowly slid over my naked flesh. “I will scan every inch of this place for that cabin with or without you, Remi. I will find the location now that I know it’s here. This is my town, and your mother was here the whole time without me knowing. I already have runners searching every alpha house for any news of her whereabouts,” he stated, grabbing the soap from my hand. “Turn around.”
“Believe it or not, I can wash myself, Rhys.”
“I wasn’t asking, woman. I like touching you. Unfortunately, you’re entirely too delicate to do what I really want to do to you. Not to mention, you still think fucking is something more meaningful than just two people needing release. This is me meeting your sensibilities halfway, trying to give you time to adjust to what is happening between us.”
“And what is it that you think is happening between us?” I asked huskily. I swallowed hard as his smile deepened, and he turned me around, running his hand that held the soap over my skin.
“What do you think is happening between us?”
“I think its mutual attraction and chemistry in play.”
“You think because our parts fit together that it’s some kind of flirtation happening here?” he chuckled darkly, which sent a shiver of unease rushing up my spine.
“I do,” I replied in a whispered breath. His fingers found my shoulders and massaged them, causing a moan to escape my lips. “Sometimes it isn’t the universe intervening, and it’s just mutual attraction. I don’t think there’s something cataclysmic happening here. You’re a man, and I’m a woman. Our parts do fit as you’ve pointed out. Sometimes it is just as simple as that, Rhys.”
I, of course, didn’t buy my explanation. I could feel the intensity of Rhys’s touch. The pull to throw propriety to the wind, giving in to the overpowering, carnal need demanding I mount him like a steed. I wanted to give in to the baser needs coursing through me. I wasn’t some bitch in heat and the universe, or some pre-ordained curse, didn’t get to decide who got to dance in my vagina. It was as simple as that. I was the boss of my body, and I wasn’t created like Nyx. I needed some sense of something more before I gave in to the needs of my body.
“Maybe you’re right, Remington,” he growled against my ear, pressing his large erection against my spine. “Maybe five-hundred years of being cursed to become besotted to any Silversmith woman with a working womb has left me jaded. Finish your shower and get dressed. I have other shit to do today besides trailing through the woods to look for your mother.”
Rhys placed the soap into my hand and vanished from the shower, leaving me shivering without his warmth. I quickly washed my hair and body before climbing out of the shower, finding my pack on the counter. I withdrew my white camisole, knit shirt, and a pair of tight-fitting jeans. Slipping into a pair of panties, I pulled on the jeans and top before stepping closer to the mirror.