Fresh linens, a hot bath, scented soaps . . . Joining him in the alcove, grateful the blinds had been pulled low, Rexei investigated the low table of soft soap pots. Picking one with a spicy smell to it, she added a fancy, soft sea sponge, and held them in one arm. The other, she used to test the water splashing from the faucet into the oversized copper basin. A nod let Alonnen know he had picked a good temperature. She offered him the jar for a sniff and received a nod in return.
Pleased at her choice, Alonnen let her set the jar and sponge on the broad flared rim at the head of the tub, then climbed in and assisted her over the edge. Both sank down into the heat with little hisses and contented sighs, one at each end of the oval basin. Eyeing her, he contemplated her relaxed nudity, then tapped her hand and flicked his fingers. “C’mere,” he ordered, opening his arms. “Put your back to my chest, and let’s cuddle.”
Blushing, she smiled and moved. “You really are a very . . . touchy . . . person. As in, you like to touch people. Aren’t you?”
“Very much so,” he agreed, parting his legs to make room for her to settle between them. His chest was still a little bit sticky from the jelly attempt, but the basin was quite deep, allowing the water to rise up almost high enough to soak the elderberries away. “I feel better when I’m touching someone I like. Happier. It’s like . . . it’s like making a wordless connection, deep with trust, and abiding in affection and caring.
“And when they touch me, when they reach out to me and I don’t have to start it? Then I know they care about me.” Gently wrapping his arms around her ribs, he nuzzled his jawline against her steam-dampened hair. “I love sex, don’t get me wrong—and don’t deny either of us the pleasure of it,” he teased lightly, “but just a simple, honest, cuddlesome hug conveys as much love or more. Actually, more. I could get a dozen women to grease my piston with their hands, simply because of my rank and their own desire to rise in the ranks somehow. Hell, a dozen men. But a hug? That’s something special.”
Rexei grunted, dropping her head back onto his shoulder. “Ugh . . . why do you tell me this when I’m facing away from you? And in a bathtub? If I tried to turn around now to hug you, it’d be all awkward elbows and mangling knees and unwelcome bruises for both of us.”
He chuckled and squeezed her. “We’ll have plenty of time for hugs. Right now, I’m going to enjoy the heat of this bath a little bit more, then help you scrub the elderberry preserves off our hides. Then . . . I’m going to clean your cute little bottom.”
“My bottom is not little,” she muttered. “My hips are a little bit too wide for someone trying to pretend to be a boy. I have to wear long, baggy tops to hide it.”
“The part I’m interested in is cute and little,” he asserted, sliding a hand down to her hip. “These lush bits are lovely for grabbing on to, but it’s the little cog-star between your cute nethercheeks to which I’m referring.”
His words reminded her of what they were going to do. “I, uh . . . heard it can be painful. Um, using that one.”
“It can be, if you don’t go slowly, don’t take time to gently loosen it, and definitely if you don’t use any pomade or such,” Alonnen admitted. “The other way is faster, easier, and better-feeling, but it carries the long-term risk of babies.” Shifting his hand to her belly, he rested it there for a moment, then hugged her around the ribs. “As much as part of me wants a couple of little Rexeis running around—boy or girl, doesn’t matter—the greater part of me knows we still have some serious problems to clear up before we can go that far.”
She nodded, turning her head just enough so that her forehead caressed the side of his jaw. “You’re right, we shouldn’t. And . . . um . . . well, I trust you to take your time, go slow, and . . . um . . . pomade. We should have grabbed the jar of pomade.”
“Yes and no; it might be helpful to clean up a little, first,” he told her, and slipped his other hand between her nethercheeks for a subtle tickle.
Sucking in a startled breath, Rexei squirmed a little in surprise. She forced herself to stop and relax. “Wait . . . Is my shoulder blade sticky?”
“You’re the one who leaned against me without cleaning off the jelly, first,” he teased lightly.
“Fine. Just for that, you have to scrub my back,” she mock ordered. “And anywhere else I want.”
Without a word, he reached behind him, groped for the soft yet scratchy tuft of sea sponge, gently soaked it in the hot water—and applied the sopping thing against her head and face in several rapid, gentle pats, splattering water everywhere. Yelping and spluttering, Rexei twisted around and splashed at him in affront. Since he was laughing at the time, he coughed from a mouthful of liquid, but she didn’t show much mercy when she splashed him again, so he splashed her back.
The water fight was somewhat short; very noisy with shrieks, shouts, and laughter; very wet; and glorious fun. When it ended, it did so because Rexei slipped and splashed face-first against him, breasts to chest, her legs straddling one of his. Just like that, the playful mood between them snapped amorous.
This time, she didn’t wait for him to make the first move. Gripping the rim of the tub for leverage, Rexei pulled herself up the last two inches and claimed his mouth. The shift in position allowed his manhood to slide along her belly and nudge between her thighs. Aroused, she parted her legs and straddled his hips, never quite ending the kiss, though their lips parted for fractions of a second here and there.
Wrapping his arms around her, Alonnen held her close while they kissed. Eventually, he urged her higher. Nibbling on her neck, tasting the little water droplets that clung to her collarbone, he sunk just slow enough so that she straddled his waist, bringing her small breasts into the range of his lips.
As before—as with every time—the moment his mouth brushed her skin, she shivered. The moment he licked, she shuddered. And the moment he suckled, Rexei moaned, swamped by the pleasure his simple touch evoked. A shift of his hands curved them under her rump for support, allowing him to increase the lovemaking he applied to her chest.
Her breasts were so sensitive, she was flushed and panting with pleasure before she realized what his fingers were doing. When she did, Rexei gasped. Two of them—not just one, but two—had slipped into her . . . and they were . . . !
Before she could do more than tense, he pulled his mouth off her nipple with a smacking kiss and murmured, “There, all the jelly’s gone. Or would you rather I used soap?”
His fingers wiggled impudently just inside her cog-star, ruining any chance of a coherent reply. Eyes wide, Rexei looked down at him. “That . . . That feels . . .”
“Yes?” Alonnen asked her, smirking. “It feels . . . how?”
“Disturbingly good,” she confessed, blushing. It did. It was embarrassing, but it did. He had slipped two fingers into her netherhole, a spot on her body far more associated with refreshing rooms than bedrooms, and . . . and she was enjoying it. Rexei had heard from several sources over the years that it could be pleasurable, but she hadn’t been completely sure it would indeed be so. Now, she knew.