The Becoming Trilogy Box Set (Books 1-3) (26 page)

Tightening the towel slung
low on his hips, Connal’s eyes appreciated the arch of Ash’s spine and the
feminine flare of her hips as she hunkered down over the ancient copper bath,
cranking the taps closed and fussing over the water. With a full stomach and a
bone-deep fatigue weighing him down, she had led him here, like a wounded puppy
on a leash, and he shuffled along, willing, eager to divert the lines of her
earlier enquiry. She flipped the heavy fall of her hair over one shoulder as she
worked, exposing the line of her throat to him once more, awakening unsated
hungers that had him wetting dry lips. ‘You didn’t answer my question, Ash.’

Her eyes skimmed up to meet
his with a smile edged in laughing confusion. ‘What was the question again?’
She drew up eye level to the wolf brand and the metal piercings in his flesh,
the top of her head barely reaching his pecs. Staring up at him from beneath
dark lashes, barefoot in that very feminine, curve-skimming dress, her
intelligent eyes were bright as sapphires. So strong, this woman was, and yet
so petite. He may have dwarfed her frame with his muscle bulk, but what she
lacked in size, she more than made up for in courage. Little girl lost? He
couldn’t have been farther from the truth. This girl had the heart of a lion
beating in her chest.

He swallowed hard, but the
words still came out with a growled quality. ‘In the forest ... the pull. You
felt it?’

‘I ... may have felt
something.’ Her cheeks flared pink and the colour stirred something primal in
him.

He reached up to stroke his
thumb along the delicate bone structure of her jaw. She didn’t recoil from him.
She stood her ground in the heat of his dark gaze. ‘What about now, Ash? Do you
still feel it?’

‘I’m pretty sure at this
point that you’re magnetic.’ She inclined her jaw, rubbing against the callused
pad of his thumb, inviting more as her tongue stole out to wet her lips. ‘Yes,
I feel it,’ she breathed.

His voice dropped an octave.
‘Because this is just us, Ash. Just you and me, naked and broken. No full moon
fever, no supernatural mojo-’ his hand moved under her jaw, tunneling into the
silken hair at the nape of her neck ‘-and I am so drawn to you, I want you so
fucking much, I am raw with hunger.’ The final words came out on a rasp, his lips
a breath from hers, an unspoken request for permission.

‘Connal ...’ Her fingers
strayed to the juncture where towel met skin and her lips danced a little
nearer to his, her body swaying. Yes, she was drawn to him, as he was to her.
Magnetic, and she had the North to his South. There were invisible strings
tugging between them. A soft sough escaped Ash’s lips as she dropped back on
her heels. ‘You’re injured,’ she said. Rocking slightly, she clamped the edge
of the tub for support, ‘I promised you a bath, and it’s getting cold.’

His hand dropped from her
hair on a ragged exhale, lids shutting down the desire that burned in his eyes.
‘The bath ... right. Thank you.’ He nodded, and taking a step back from her,
his hands reached to untie the towel at his hips, letting it fall to the ground
on a whisper.

He had bared his soul. His
nakedness, his obvious arousal, just didn’t seem relevant in the grand scheme
of things. Stepping into the bath, he lowered his aching body down into the
water, letting its comforting heat envelope bruised limbs. Hands gripping the
edges, he eased himself back against the support of the high walls and his head
fell back on a quiet exhale. ‘I can take it from here.’

Double fuck. He drifted from
Ash’s fingers with a quiet acceptance that hurt her heart. He’d pulled the
curtains on the fire he’d been feeling and left her with a chill.

The Ice Maiden strikes again.

God, she was an idiot!

Instinct had said
kiss
and she should have pounced him so hard the back of his head would have felt
her lips. Should have taken them both down to the tile floor, the bath be
damned. But he was hurt, and her insides niggled with concern that clouded her
desire. Turned her into an idiot. So she was stuck with him retreating again
and everything within her begging her to follow. Ash folded into herself, her
arms wrapping her waist, lashes low, watching through the inky fan as he slowly
removed the towel she silently envied. The fabric fell away and any breath she
may have drawn was stolen by the sight. He was ... male. Incredibly,
magnificently male. And yeah, she’d felt him, she’d had him over her, and under
her, and inside her, but she’d never seen him.

Connal was fiery gold, tawny
skin set over the ripped, sculpted perfection of muscles thick and corded with
power. The injuries she hadn’t seen, those criss-crossed his thighs and gouged
deep, but she didn’t fancy she could see bone any more. He looked almost
normal, if normal was six-feet-seven, growly, muscle-packed deliciousness.
Ash’s eyes dipped and flew over the bared planes of his body, locked, and
skipped away ... and locked some more on the part of him she’d felt and
desperately wanted to feel again. Beautiful came to mind, the kind of predator
beautiful, stunning, and immensely overwhelming. There would be no breathing
for her for a while.

‘I said, I can take it from
here.’

She was still lost in a
shell-shocked daze, her nerves liquid and flowing molten to her centre, when
she realised he was talking, or had said something. His rumbling tone set off a
whole new set of sparks that skipped her arousal to blinding awareness. But,
focus, dammit. He was ... dismissing her? The notion couldn’t have been more
powerful if he’d flicked his hand at her and commanded she leave. Ash
controlled the small catch in her throat that signalled tears, weariness an
exhale leaving her lungs, her own acceptance forced around the need that was
brimming to overflowing.

‘Oh, right, yes ... Of course
...’ So formal. She backed up, her gaze refusing to leave the sight that was
him, sprawled out in a tub full of very see-through water. Ash cut the
connection, severed the line of vision and took the steps he asked of her to
leave. Her hand was on the draped fabric when words unsaid shimmered on her
tongue. She swallowed them back, again and again, but they choked up, raw and
hungry. ‘I ... fuck, I want you, Big Bad. I want you so fucking much it scares
me ...’

His reaction was lightning
fast. His head whipped around in her direction, eyes at half-mast, dark as
storm clouds, pinning her in a look that was deep-penetrating and resonated
desire. His arm fell out from the lip of the bath, palm up, beckoning, and his
voice was gravelled and raw. ‘Come back here, Little Red.’

She glanced over her shoulder
at the sound of his body shifting in the water and got stuck like that. If he
had been an invitation inches away from her lips before, now, he was the god of
invitations. That large hand, that had caressed her body as they danced, was
open to her, eyes that shone like steel now burnished with desire, molten metal
in a caging gaze. No breathing, and no denial. Ash hesitated only a second
longer to gather strength into weak knees, before she pivoted slowly, giving
herself over to the arousal purring at her to yield to her hungers ... and
obeyed.

That strong hand hooked
around her forearm, reeling her in. His grip tightened as their gazes locked.
‘Don’t be afraid, Little Red,’ he growled up at her from beneath hooded,
lust-darkened eyes.

‘I’m not afraid, Big Bad.’
She might be shaking, burning up and nervous, but she was not afraid. Lured
into the steaming bubble around the bath, her skin shivered electric under his
touch. Ash took a breath and it trembled out on an exhale, her eyes never
leaving his, falling into his scorching, metallic gaze like he was the flame
and she was the moth, wings getting burned. At a touch. At the tension.

The rough pads of his
fingertips stroked up her arm, drawing her in, closer, closer, until she could
seat herself on the lip of the bath, at the perfect vantage point to stare. A
lot. There wasn’t much of Connal you couldn’t see through the water.

Ash swallowed, lifted her
eyes from her peeking and got lost. So lost that when his fingers tightened she
barely noticed it.

And then she was sputtering
for air, free-falling into a hot wave of water and a not so soft landing.
Gracelessly, she was sprawled, submerged and left gasping laughter that
bordered on hysterical. She reined it in. If hysterics kicked in she’d be a
goner.

Ohhhhh ... Muscle,
deliciously wet, gloriously warm male. For the second time since their meeting,
she was sat on Connal.

The sloshing wriggle of her
drenched curves rode his naked body as she struggled to right herself in the
confined limits of the high-walled bath. Arms bracing the lip of the tub, her
knees planted the only place they could, either side of his hips, seating her
down hard. A growl of pleasure breached his lips. Her hair hung in a sodden
curtain that grazed his shoulders, closing their laughter into a very intimate
space. The steamy air was infused with the drugging scent of that intimacy.
Arching his neck up to speak against her mouth, Connal all but purred. ‘Did I
get you wet, Ash?’

Infuriating male. The
bastard had pulled her in!
Her balled
fist struck his chest as laughter shook through her. ‘Yes, you got me fucking
wet, Connal.’ Her tongue flickered out to gloss at her lips, her teeth tugging
at her lower one, voice dropping to a whisper. ‘You tend to have that effect on
me.’

‘You look beautiful fucking
wet,’ he said. His eyes were hungry, tracking the sweep of her tongue, and her
lips parted in response. Closing the breath of distance that separated them, he
claimed her mouth. Tender at first, it felt like a prayer, a reverent brush of
velvet skin, tasting her lips. The pliant crush had him swallowing back a
snarl. Harder then, rougher, her mouth demanded more of him and he obliged.
Rasping drags of wet stubble abraded her cheeks as he ravaged her and she fell
into the wonderland of his starved kisses.

His body surged beneath her
and he was the breath in her lungs, the blood galloping through her veins, winding
her body to a hyper sensitized dance of grinding, female lust. His hands
grasped blindly at the puddle of wet fabric barring him from her skin. Dragging
fistfuls up her body, he peeled away the sodden sheath, baring flesh he’d never
seen. His hands rode the sensitive skin over her ribs, low moans escaping the
lock of their mouths as he grazed the underside of her breasts.

‘Connal ...’ Her nails raked
down his chest, clawing frustration that circled her hips in his lap and arched
her into his touch. Whimpering, she dragged the soaked fabric over her head,
shedding the plastered-on dress to a wet-squishing heap on the tiles.

Connal’s breathing turned
ragged. His head fell back against the copper wall of the bath and he ate up
her nakedness with the wanton lust burning in his eyes.

She smiled shyly, teeth
hooking into her lower lip, but the look in her eyes was brazen. Bracing up on
her knees, her hands reached back to unhook the clasp of the black satin bra
encasing her full breasts. His throat bobbed as she slipped the delicate straps
off her creamy shoulders, baring herself to him.

‘Ash ...’

The chill air and the heat of
his eyes on her rose goosebumps and tightened her nipples to dusky peaks.

‘Fuck Ash.’ His palms rode
the curve of her waist until the heavy swells of her breasts spilled over in
his hands. Wet, callused thumbs grazed the dark flesh encircling her nipples
and he moaned low in his throat as they rewarded his touch, hardening to tight
pebbles. His tongue slaked over dry lips and she moaned for him.

One barrier left. She was
bare to him from the waist up and her cheeks were flaming with desire and the
heat of self-consciousness. So aroused, she wasn’t sure if it was the water
slicking delicate flesh, or her own, drenching need. She arched into his hands,
muscles quivering, begging as her fingers dove into his hair, urging him back
to her mouth. ‘Touch me more, please, Connal,’ she had him, she needed him and
if he didn’t touch her ...

His answering growl ripped
through the air, making her shiver. His teeth latched onto her lower lip and he
clawed down to the base of her spine, dipping beneath the waistband of her
soaked panties to palm generous handfuls of her soft flesh. Powerful arms
flexed, riding her higher up his body in a wave that lapped sensual heat to
chilled skin, until the water-slick barrier of translucent satin was all that
separated them.