She found the half-collapsed kitchen and was able to dig an iron kettle from the rubble. Its handle had rusted through on one side, but it seemed intact enough to hold water—but even better, she found a larger copper tub that had been used for bathing. It had been battered and dented by a fallen ceiling beam, but the beam had long since rotted so that Madeline could shift the tub free of the stone and bug-eaten splinters that remained.
Cleaning the fountain had left her and Lev sweaty and coated with grime. She ignored the flutter in her stomach that tried to coil into desire when she imagined getting clean...or helping Lev get clean. The tub would be too small for him, but that, too, sparked visions of the large man overfilling the copper bath. She pushed away visions of washing his muscular chest. It was pure practicality. Or if not pure, it was at least pragmatic to wash his injuries before she tended them.
Of course, she had no medicine or bandages, so cleaning his wounds might be the only treatment she could offer.
The tub wasn’t nearly as heavy as the iron kettle. She placed the kettle in the copper tub and hauled them both back toward the only other source of noise in the castle. She could hear the distant sound of wood being placed for a fire. The sound echoed with surprising loudness in the empty hallways and passages she traversed.
Lev had chosen one of the smaller rooms to build and start his fire. It was a smart choice. The front hall was too expansive, and even with its larger fireplace, the heat would have dispersed too quickly in the vaulted ceiling and the missing portions of the roof. He’d chosen a room sheltered by a stone wall that had collapsed on one side. The collapse had created a three-sided nook near the fireplace.
There was a spot by the fireplace for the copper tub she carried. She placed it there without comment, but she felt Lev’s eyes follow her movements. Was he, like her, imagining things he shouldn’t? The rebellious flutter was another reaction to the sensual imagery that arose in her mind.
“We’ll have to carry water from the courtyard,” Lev said.
Madeline lifted the iron kettle from the tub with a bold flourish, even though she was feeling shyer by the moment. Needing to wash Lev’s injuries was reason enough to haul water from the fountain. This wasn’t seduction. It was necessity.
But Lev’s fire-lit eyes seemed to see all the way to her quaking middle.
He rose from the fire he’d been stoking. It had combusted into a small furnace of heat and light that illuminated the nook with a reddish orange glow. Her sword was dead. The ruby didn’t shine. But the quality of the light reminded her of the connection that was possible between her and Lev, and how hard it was to deny.
She held the kettle toward him, but he ignored it as he approached. His attention was riveted on her face. Could he see the flush on her cheeks? Did he recall the perfect rhythm they’d found together in this place long ago?
“You’ve remembered more. It’s slowly coming back to you,” Lev said.
“My memories don’t matter,” Madeline said. His chest bumped into the iron kettle. The one-sided handle rattled in her hand. Only then did he reach up to take it from her, but only to move it out of the way so he could step closer still.
He held the kettle down to his left side, then raised his right hand to brush her frazzled hair out of her face. She tilted her chin to meet his eyes. There was no reason to pretend his touch didn’t affect her. It did. What she needed him to know was that the effect he had on her wouldn’t sway her intentions.
She would save Trevor. She would walk away.
“I know,” Lev said. “And I agree. I know what my years as the white wolf have made of me and why we’ll never be together as a family again. Above all else, I intend to protect you and Trevor from what I’ve become.”
Hearing her own fears spoken aloud made her uncomfortable. As if they were less logical when they came from Lev’s lips. Of course, she had reason to fear the white wolf. He had been a complete savage for centuries. He had been poised to attack on Krajina until she stood against him. She couldn’t risk Trevor’s safety to the whims of a wild animal.
And yet she couldn’t forget Lev’s arms around her and the way he’d carried her to safety, even putting his own health at risk. He’d pushed himself to get ahead of the pack. He’d ignored his injuries to get her to Straluci. He’d ignored them further as he helped her prepare the portal.
“I’m not afraid,” Madeline said.
“You’re brave. You don’t bow to fear. You refuse to let fear stop you,” Lev corrected. “But that doesn’t mean you aren’t afraid.”
“I’m not afraid for myself,” Madeline conceded. “I would face the white wolf. Anytime. I’ve seen him in you. He shines from your eyes. And for myself, I’m not afraid. But Trevor has been through enough. When he wakes up, he needs a chance to laugh and play.”
Lev’s hand was gentle as he placed his warm, calloused palm against her cheek. Madeline didn’t pull away. She didn’t lean into his touch, but she didn’t pull away.
“I’ll give him that chance. I promise,” Lev said.
Before she could second-guess the move, Madeline turned and placed a light kiss on Lev’s hand. He drew in a great gulp of air in surprise, but then he held himself very still, as if he was afraid any reaction would drive her away.
“I believe you,” Madeline whispered, then backed away.
Lev concentrated on the chore of filling the copper tub. It was a mindless exercise of repetitious motions, much like running. He wasn’t free to shift and run away, so he filled the tub that Madeline had found. His wounds pained him. His long-sleeved T-shirt had fused to several of the bites as the blood dried. His every move caused the shirt to threaten to pull away from those injuries and make them bleed again. But worse still was the murmur of Ether in his veins. It sounded like the nightmare times he’d been lost to the Ether as part of the curse. In that black vacuum, the nothingness wasn’t silent. It was sibilant with the constant hiss of voices even his wolf ears couldn’t distinguish.
Not everyone had returned from the Ether during the continuous cycle of materializations. Many disappeared over the years. Between one Cycle and the next, they would simply be gone. Some never returned, even once Vasilisa’s curse had been lifted. His father, Vladimir, had been one of the first to disappear. He and some others had never reappeared, even after the curse had been broken. When he returned to Bronwal as a man, he’d found the people rebuilding, but there were far fewer than there had been before.
Now it was as if his very blood echoed with the cries of those who had been lost to the nothingness. The murmur was a reminder of the nightmare he’d endured.
Lev could remember one of his last rational thoughts before he’d given himself fully to the white wolf. He’d wondered if Madeline’s voice and Trevor’s cries were a part of the Ether’s murmur. He had tried so hard to find them, only to discover that Vasilisa had had them all along.
Finally, the tub was nearly filled.
He heated the last few pots over the fire in order to make the bathwater hot. Stream rose from the copper tub as a result. He had to admit it was a welcoming sight after so many frigid rinses in mountain streams.
Madeline returned, and her arms were full of items she had salvaged while he was busy filling the tub.
“Nothing is left from our time, but I found several things that must have been abandoned by curious visitors through the years,” she said. She held up a dried and cracked sliver of soap and a rag that looked like it had once been a white T-shirt.
And then she opened her other hand to reveal a straight razor.
“I polished the blade on a stone,” she explained.
“I filled the tub for you,” Lev protested. He raised his damp hand to his face and tugged on his beard. He had barely trimmed it since he reassumed his human form.
“We’ll take turns,” Madeline replied. “But you’ll go first.”
She’d already washed her face and her hands while he was busy. Now she turned to place the T-shirt in the last pot of water that bubbled on the fire. The boiling water would disinfect the old material so she could use it as a washcloth without depositing more germs than she cleansed away.
“This will end badly,” Lev warned.
Madeline faced him. He stood in the firelight with his arms akimbo, as if he didn’t know what to do with his hands now that his chore was finished.
“Yes. We’ve already agreed to that. Tonight is a reprieve from unhappy endings. You took care of me when you saved me from the wolves. Now it’s my turn to take care of you,” Madeline said. “Your injuries aren’t healing the way they should. Let me help you, Lev.”
He nodded. Just a simple up-and-down motion of his chin, but his agreement opened the door to possibilities that set the flutter in her stomach to somersaults.
Madeline dipped the sharpened straight razor’s blade into the boiling water for a few minutes. Then she used a stick that Lev had brought inside for the purpose of lifting the pot by its broken handle away from the flames. She set the pot on the hearth so the water and the T-shirt in it could cool.
While she was busy with those preparations, Lev had bent over to take off his boots. First one and then the other. Madeline heard every rustle and every sigh. She could almost feel his relief as his tired feet hit the cool stone floor.
“Do you need help with your clothes?” Madeline asked. She was trying to force nurse feelings to the fore, almost impossible when her “patient” had driven her wild with his lips and tongue the night before. Definitely impossible when she remembered what it was like to feel him thrusting deep inside her while her body pulsed around him with its release.
“I couldn’t answer that honestly if I tried,” Lev said. “And I don’t want to try. I want you to strip me. Forget these injuries. I can only think about being naked with you.”
When she turned to face him, she caught sight of her sketchbook. She’d dumped it out of her backpack because they’d needed to utilize the canvas to polish the brass in the bottom of the fountain.
Lev had brought it inside. On top of its cover were several charcoal stubs.
She looked from her salvaged possessions to the man in front of the steaming tub. His courtesy warmed her, and the warmth joined the flutter in her middle. He knew the sketchbook was precious to her, and even though it portrayed him as a savage beast, he’d saved it for her.
The sketches weren’t a lie. She’d seen his savagery for herself. Both as the white wolf and as the man. He’d fought the Ether-tainted wolves with his bare hands.
For her. For Trevor, the warmth inspired by his courtesy said.
Also not a lie. But it would be dangerous to place too much confidence in his ability to control the wild wolf that had managed to take over for hundreds of years. She couldn’t trust him, but for now, they were alone and he was hurting. She could help him. She could also admit her feelings weren’t merely altruistic. She was no nurse. The heat from his consideration met with the heat that already rose in her whenever he was around.
She stepped toward him and raised her hands to the torn hem of his shirt. His eyes widened, but he didn’t flinch away. He held still as she raised the shirt from his waistband, and he stared intently at her face. Was he trying to gauge her intentions? If so, she wondered if her expression showed concern mixed with mounting desire as she pulled the ruined shirt up to reveal his rippled abdomen and muscular chest.
He didn’t look away when it was time for him to lift his arms to help her remove the shirt. He stared down at her, and only the shirt passing over his head interrupted their locked gazes. The color in his cheeks above his beard was high. She could feel the heat of a flush rising in her cheeks as well.
The shirt pulled away from several of his wounds, but he didn’t cry out. Madeline flinched for him, and her attention fell from his eyes to his torn skin. The blood that seeped from the wolf bites was tinged with black. Her instinct was to try to wash it away, but the miracle of his epic run following the attack struck her all over again. Even burdened with her weight and his injuries, he had practically flown across the earth.
Madeline dropped his shirt to the side, and without thinking of the consequences, she allowed her fingers to trace the uninjured skin she had exposed. He sucked in air and held it as her touch feathered over his neck and shoulders and down the hard plane of his chest, where she paused over the steady, powerful thump of his heart before continuing down the impossibly toned muscles of his abdomen. Her memories were of a different, softer man. Still fierce. Still strong. But not honed by centuries as a mad wolf.
By the time she reached the laced waistband of his leather leggings, the heartbeat in her chest was pounding in the same rhythm as his heartbeat. The beat seemed to make her fingers vibrate and echo throughout her body, even though she was no longer pressing her hand above his heart.
She had rejected the sword’s connection. They were no longer bound together by Vasilisa’s enchantment. But their bodies seemed to fight the severing force of her will and his acceptance of her decision.
Her heartbeat synced with his. Her breathing adjusted to the rise and fall of his chest. And the bulge and heat of the erection that showed beneath the leather, as she gently worked the leather cords of his lacings free, echoed the heat throbbing between her own legs.
“Madeline,” Lev said hoarsely. She’d heard the howl that had caused the rough quality of his voice, but that didn’t stop his growling tones from tightening her stomach until the flutter she hadn’t been able to ignore was caught and held in a fist of increasing need.
Reclaiming her memories of how they’d been together wasn’t enough. She needed this Lev. Here and now. She needed more than what they’d shared in the wildflowers last night. She needed to physically join with him, even though no greater connection could be allowed. Come what may tomorrow.
He had been infinitely patient with her undressing. His stillness was heady in and of itself. Such a powerful, hard man waiting on her pace and allowing her to lead the way. But he sighed when she finally parted his lacings to allow his erection to spring free into her eager hands. The velvety skin of Lev’s penis burned her fingers as she teased her touch around his shaft. Then he groaned and grew tense once more when her fist finally, boldly closed around the hot, curved length of him.
She had held him like this before. He had thrust into her hand and cried out her name.
His leggings slid midway down his thighs as his legs trembled in reaction to her strokes. Her body also reacted, but the trembles deep inside her intimate folds were hidden. She suddenly wanted him to know. She wanted Lev to feel her reaction to his erection.
“Step into the tub and let me wash you,” Madeline ordered. She reluctantly released him, and he moved back from her touch long enough to push his leggings off his powerful legs. He kicked them aside and stepped into the steaming water of the bath.
Nude, Lev Romanov was a striking sight. She paused in the process of taking the boiled T-shirt from the cooling kettle. The water trickled back into the pot as she forgot the cloth she’d been wringing out. She could only stare. He was fully erect. The tight fist in her stomach released as her insides turned to molten liquid. She wanted nothing more in that moment than to rip off her clothes and beg him to join with her.
But his injuries still needed cleaning.
Madeline shook herself and flicked out the warm, wet cloth. She carried it over to the tub, trying not to focus on the evidence that he was as heated by desire as she. Lev watched her approach. He didn’t reach for her. But he did fist his hands at his sides, as if not reaching required effort.
She dipped the sliver of dried soap into the water that lapped around his lower legs, but to do so meant she had to lean over. She appreciated the view as she rose. Every inch of his muscular legs. Every inch of...other things.
Madeline looked up at Lev as she worked the soap into the cloth in her hands. He had closed his eyes. The pace of his breathing had increased. So had hers, and now they matched. The color in his cheeks was high. She watched his face as she began gently lathering his neck and shoulders. His eyelids flew open and their gazes connected with an electric snap that made her gasp.
“You pleasure me and torture me all at the same time,” Lev growled.
“I want you. And I want to take care of you. Just for tonight, let me savor this time,” Madeline said. As she spoke, her soapy hands slid over his hard skin. She covered him with lather, inch by inch, appreciating his lean form, soothing his pain and increasing his need until his entire body trembled beneath her hands. She dropped the cloth into the water and took extra time with only her soapy fingers on his erect shaft. He moaned and groaned and sighed her name as she pleasured him in the guise of washing him until suddenly his hands came up and he held her shoulders. She met his eyes and paused. Her hands fell away from a steely cock that had been seconds away from orgasm.
“Rinse. Now,” Lev ordered. And Madeline didn’t argue. She went to the hearth and picked up the kettle. She filled it with water and then poured, washing away the lather. Lev watched her work with glittering eyes that were no longer as patient as they’d been before. The difference caused a thrill to take over where the flutter had been. Her nipples peaked, and goose bumps rose as she waited for him to act again, order her to do something.
Lev’s body glistened in the firelight as the lather ran down his hardened flesh. His scars and the marks the wolves’ teeth had caused on his skin didn’t detract from his sculptural beauty. His rock-hard penis jutted out from golden curls, proving that however carved he seemed, he was hot and real and, at least for tonight, hers to enjoy.
She bent to scoop another kettle full of water, but Lev bent down to stop her. She allowed the kettle to sink to the bottom of the tub as he gripped her shoulders and encouraged her to stand. His hands were strong, though gentle on her arms, but they were also insistent.
She’d been right. His patience was gone.
Suddenly, he crushed her to his wet chest and lowered his lips to hers. She only had time to gasp before his hot, questing tongue speared into her mouth to twine with her own hungry tongue. He delved deeply, tasting and exploring and taking her last breath. Her head grew light. Her knees buckled. But he held her so she didn’t fall. He eased up, but only seconds before she thought she would faint.
And she didn’t mind at all.
Because his ferocity was hers. His passion was hers. She gasped for air and mourned the loss of his mouth at the same time. He allowed her to reach up and throw her arms around his neck. He lowered his hands from her arms to her hips. Somehow her feet were off the floor, her legs were wrapped around his waist and his engorged cock was pressed against her hot core.
Her face was above his now. She tried to kiss him again, but he spoke against her lips instead.
“I’m going to empty this tub and fill it with fresh water for you. But I’m going to undress you first. I want you to sit naked by the fire so that I can see every inch of you while I prepare you a bath. I want to see your hard nipples and the lush globes of your breasts. I want to see the auburn bush between your legs. I want to make those red curls glisten with anticipation,” Lev murmured. The movement of his mouth on hers teased, and his words enticed. Heat rushed to the juncture of her thighs as she thought about him enjoying her nudity as she’d enjoyed his. She moved her hips as her ache increased, and he laughed in response.
Madeline was stunned into motionlessness. Then she reached to cup the sides of his face as if she could capture the smile on his mouth and the sound of his laughter in the palms of her hands.
“We’ll get there, Maddy. We’ll get there,” he teased, and he held her bottom in two powerful hands so she couldn’t resume her wiggling. He stepped from the tub and crossed the room to stand by the fire. She didn’t protest when he untwined her legs from his waist and placed her feet on the floor. She was facing him in the firelight. His thrusting cock measured the distance between them.
She waited, trembling, for him to strip her as she’d stripped him. She didn’t have to wait long. He raised one hand to her chest and undid the buttons of her shirt, one by one. She breathed lightly but quickly as he exposed her flushed skin.
“You’re even more beautiful than I remembered,” Lev said. His hands hastened to move her shirt aside when he undid the final button. The fabric swept off her shoulders and down her arms in a cottony whisper that tickled the same way desire was tickling the insides of her thighs with need. “You’re also sweeter than I remembered. I discovered your sweetness last night. And since then, I’ve been dying to taste you again.”
He leaned down to illustrate his hunger with his lips on the curve of her neck. Madeline’s head swooned backward as she gave him greater access, and he took her offer with a sucking kiss against the vulnerable pulse point at the apex of her neck.
Her push-up bra cupped and displayed her breasts at a delicious angle. He stood back to look at her, and she could see his appreciation in his eyes. She looked down and saw her dusky areolas and pink nubs of her nipples showing through the pale peach lace. As she watched, he cupped her left breast, then caressed her swollen nipple through the thin material of the bra with his calloused thumb.
“Lev,” Madeline breathed. It was half protest, half plea. He laughed again in response.
“Now you know how hard it is to be patient when you’re being pleasured by someone you desperately need to take” Lev said.
With a sudden jerk of his hand, he twisted her bra free. The lace sprang loose and fell to the floor, forgotten. The fire’s warmth fell on her breasts. The dancing flames illuminated her hard nipples and the flush of desire on her pale skin. She was left in nothing but leggings and boots, but not for long. Lev’s hands were already on her waist. He jerked the stretchy material of her modern buff leggings down...and he went with them. She placed her hands on his broad shoulders as he worked her body almost roughly to pull at the leggings, and to wrestle the boots off her feet at the same time.
She welcomed the hurry. She wanted to be bare. She needed to be naked. For him. Only peach lace remained when he tossed her pants and boots aside. And her auburn mound showed through, level with his kneeling face. She didn’t resist when his hands came around her hips to pull her toward him. But she did emit a surprised yelp when his hot mouth opened and he gently closed his teeth over her throbbing mound. The heat and pressure teased her even through the lace.
And then he stood.
“When I come back, I want those off. I want you on the hearth by the fire, and I want to see how ready you are for me,” Lev said.
He turned away so suddenly that Madeline swayed. Cool air rushed back at her in his wake, in spite of the fire. She watched as he easily picked up the copper tub, even though its weight had been increased due to the water it held. His muscles bulged, and she admired his broad back as he walked out of the room.
I want to see how ready you are for me.
She was ready. And she wasn’t too shy to let him see.
Madeline hooked her fingers in the waistband of her underwear and pulled them down. She stepped out of them and tossed them to the side. She wanted a bath; she wanted Lev to give her a bath. But most of all, she wanted the large erection she’d held in her hands deep inside her. He would fill her to the limit. She remembered perfectly the stretch, the fullness. That absolute perfect friction of their sliding together.
And even though it was probably wrong to desire him more, here and now, she was sure it would be even better. His hips would be harder and more frenzied between her thighs. His body would be a hot sculpture come to life only for her hands and her heat. He was a beast. Definitely. There was no doubt about it. But he would be her beast tonight. And she was warrior enough to take him.
Madeline settled on the heated stones of the hearth. They were almost hot against her bottom, and the heat radiated elsewhere. She wiggled against it and felt the pleasurable flush rise to tease her.
Lev would dump the tepid, used water from the tub. Then he would come back, any minute now, and find her just where he’d told her to wait by the fire. Madeline raised her hands to her aching breasts, so she could cup and caress them, and remind herself of his teasing hands. Her nipples were responsive and tender. Sensation zinged from the brush of her fingers straight to the pulse between her legs.
She clamped her thighs against the feeling, but then she remembered his orders. She thought she could hear his step in the hall. Madeline leaned against the hot stone at her back. The fire had died down, but it was still crackling enough to cause beads of sweat to spring up on her forehead and upper lip.
She was naked, but she wasn’t cold at all. In fact, she’d never been hotter. Lev stepped into the room carrying the empty tub just as Madeline spread her legs. Across the room, his eyes were dark from the firelight, but she saw and felt him take in her display from her head to her feet...with a long pause in between. His pause was like a physical caress. Madeline could almost feel his fingers teasing the flesh between her thighs.
“You’re going to kill me, but I’m determined to fill this tub,” Lev said. He placed it on the floor with a clang and rose. The tub had shielded his erection from her sight. Now she appreciated how hard and ready he appeared. So much so that she pressed her hands against her hot stomach to quiet the ache there.
“Look at you. It’s going to take more than that to ease your need. When I come back, I want to see your fingers wet, Maddy,” Lev said. He picked up the kettle and turned to head back to the fountain to fill it. She’d gone motionless at his latest order, but as he headed back outside, she gladly obeyed. It wouldn’t take him long to fill the kettle. Madeline moved the hand she’d pressed against her stomach down to her damp curls. She threaded her fingers into the nest to find the moisture he wanted to see. She gasped, her excitement heightened because he’d told her to touch herself and share her physical response with him.
Lev came back in the room as she raised her damp fingers back to her stomach. He crossed the room and placed the kettle on the fire beside her. And then he stepped to her. He reached for her hand and raised her wet fingers to his lips. He suckled first one and then the other. The hot suction and the sultry act caused her to gasp, but she didn’t close her eyes. His erect penis was so close to her face. She went even wetter as she saw how much he wanted to replace her fingers with his cock.
She leaned forward, and he didn’t stop her. She took the head of his penis in her lips. But he stopped her by grabbing a fistful of her hair before she could take him deeply into her mouth.
“You’re hard to resist. Did you know that? I can hardly pull away. I have to feel your hot lips. Just for a second,” Lev groaned. Madeline sucked as much as he would allow her to suck—only a teasing inch between her lips. She was so hungry for more. She moaned in frustration and then, because he wouldn’t allow her to have more of his cock, she bathed the head with her tongue. Again and again, until his legs shook and the hand in her hair grew almost painfully tight.
“Oh, yes, Maddy. I’m going to take you tonight. I’m going to make you scream,” he promised.
Madeline wiggled on the hot hearth, and he let go of her hand and her hair, but he also stepped back. She licked the salty taste of him from her lips. They were full and swollen from the suction she’d used on the head of his cock. He reached to take the water from the hearth with the tree limb. He carried the kettle over to the tub and tilted it so the steaming water would pour out.
Madeline felt as if her body was steaming as obviously as the bathwater. Lev looked back at her. He paused in the doorway with the empty kettle in his hand.
“I’ll be back,” he said.
This time her instructions were left to her own imagination. She tingled with the anticipation of his return. The taste of him on her lips made her crazy for more. It was easy enough to rise to her knees on the hearth and give herself what she needed. But it wasn’t enough. Only he would be enough.
She was rocking her hips against her own fingers when he stepped back in. Lev slowly crossed the room to the hearth. Through narrowed lids, Madeline watched him approach. She didn’t stop. She continued to rock. She’d felt this way almost since she first found him in the tower room. He heated her blood. He drew out every ounce of ache and need her body could feel. He should see what he did to her. Just as she could see what she did to him.
He placed the kettle on the flames, but he only had eyes for her. He stood for several moments, watching and appreciating before he leaned down to take her salty lips with his. He kissed her gently this time, licking all the perspiration from her upper lip, suckling her lower lip as her hips still moved against her own hand.
“Oh, Maddy, love. You are mine, aren’t you?” She startled at his words and her hand fell away, but he continued. “No. I know. We are bound to be apart. But you’re mine. And I’m yours. There’s no denying it, no matter our circumstances,” Lev said against her lips.
Madeline gasped when he replaced her hand with the nudge of his hot penis. Yet he didn’t penetrate her. He only teased. He slowly eased his large cock high between her damp thighs, so he nudged her most tender flesh. She cried out his name and grabbed his shoulders.
“Say it, Maddy. Admit it for me. Just for tonight. Admit that you’re mine,” Lev said. “Forever.”
Her “yes” was forced through teeth that chattered because her need for him was so great. When he stepped away to pour another boiling kettle of water in the tub, she thought she would cry.
“Only a few more trips,” Lev promised.
The kettle was large, and the tub wasn’t made for soaking. Madeline cuddled herself in the heat of the fire while Lev continued his chore with no more teasing. None was necessary. She already burned hotter than the fire itself. And his hands fumbled with his tasks, as if he was impatient to be through.
Finally, after several unheated kettles, the tub was filled enough for their purpose.
Madeline uncurled her legs, but this time Lev picked her up and carried her to the tub instead of the kettle. He set her down in the steaming liquid and rose before her. Madeline looked up at him as he soaped his hands. He didn’t use a cloth to wash her, but rather, used his large palms. He lathered her from head to foot, even scrubbing her long hair with gentle, kneading fingers. It was a different kind of sensuality than the one they’d shared moments before—it was passion paired with consideration.
But when he kissed her between rinsings, she knew he was going to fulfill his earlier vow. His tongue mimicked a rhythm she recognized. He thrust deep into her mouth. He claimed her, and she welcomed it.
Yes. She sketched, but she also wielded a sword. It would take a furious desire to make a warrior scream. Only Lev Romanov, out of the entire world, could match the fury of the need in her own belly. Before the last of the soapy bubbles were rinsed away, Madeline wound her arms around Lev’s neck and refused to let him bend to dip the kettle one last time.
“I was wondering when you’d grow tired of my teasing,” Lev said.
“That I managed to survive with your soapy fingers between my thighs speaks volumes about my control,” Madeline replied.
“I don’t doubt your control. It’s mine I’ve been testing,” Lev said.
“No more control. I can’t bear it anymore. I want to run with you this time. Let’s ride this together while we can,” Madeline said.
“There are no beds. No blankets,” Lev warned.
“I only need you,” she insisted.
He lifted her away from the water with her grip around his neck. She held on long enough for him to wrap his arms beneath her bottom. This time, when she hooked her legs around his waist, they were both naked. Her core settled against his hot stomach, and his erection bumped her bottom.
Lev took her weight with him to the floor. He shielded her from the rough flagstones with his warm, hard body. And then he moved his hands from her bottom to the aching need between her thighs. He opened her and centered his erection, but he didn’t thrust his hips upward. He merely raised his gaze to hers. She saw the howl—she also felt the howl rise in her own breast. She felt the desperation of the search he’d undertaken to attain this incredible moment of reconnection.
And still he didn’t take her.
It was Madeline who claimed the beast. She lowered herself on the erection he offered, and she accepted the incredible pleasure and pain of the tight fit and luxurious friction between them. She cried out his name. It sounded very much like the white wolf’s howl. And with that, he went wild beneath her.
Her whole body was rocked by the power of his movements, but she clenched her thighs and held his shoulders and responded with the eager, fierce thrusts of her hips. She took him. He took her. And they both found their shuddering release that seemed to be echoed by the earth beneath them.
He didn’t shift. The wolf was in his eyes, and the white wolf’s song burst from his lips as he came, but he didn’t shift. Thunder rolled and the earth rumbled, but it was Lev beneath her when she collapsed, replete, in his arms.