Stealing Kathryn (17 page)

“It will take much more than showing me what I’ve already seen to get you your answer.”

Kathryn felt every blood vessel she owned heating up and opening wide. She knew she was blushing bright red all over, but damn it, she just couldn’t help it! He was constantly speaking in crude and suggestive ways she’d never heard before. She’d grown up so sheltered from men other than her father. Were they all like this?

“L-like what?” she asked in a squeak.

“You’ll touch me. No,” he corrected himself, taking full advantage of the moment. “You’ll bathe me. Everywhere. No shyness. No fear. Like a woman would bathe her lover. Do that and you’ll earn your answer.”

“You would do that to me?” she cried. “You know I can’t do that! I-I’ve never done—”

“Then go away and leave me be!” he roared in her face, forcing her to step back and bump into the door frame. Finally he touched the right place inside her and pissed her off. She exploded back at him.

“No! Fine, you freakin’ pervert! If that’s what it will take to find out what future you’ve sentenced me to, then I’ll do it!”

She grabbed the gown and yanked it over her head, throwing it at him. She took huge satisfaction in the shock that registered on his features, but it was only momentary. The next expression was all male and all about him recognizing he had dominance over the situation.

Her fleeting courage evaporated just like that.

“How do I know you’ll keep your word?” she asked him in a suddenly small voice, unable to meet his penetrating gaze.

“Nothing I can say will reassure you. You’ll just have to trust me.” He held out his hand for her, palm up, open and waiting. The cynicism she saw in his eyes told her he didn’t believe she was going to go through with it, and frankly, she wasn’t all that sure either. She looked over her shoulder and out at the vast chamber beyond the bath, as if someone there might rescue her from this insane situation. But there was no one. It was just her. She had to make the choice all by herself and face the consequences, again, all by herself.

She lifted her hand and set her trembling fingers against his palm. Like a Venus flytrap waiting for its feast, he quickly closed his fingers around hers and drew her closer to him. She took a breath in through her mouth, the faint sound not so much reflecting fear as awkwardness. She didn’t know how to do what he wanted. Maybe she could fake her way through parts of it, but she feared she didn’t have the guts to do everything he would demand of her.

“Don’t fret,” he said gently, as if reading her mind. “You’re a natural at sensuality, Kat. You enjoy all things visual and tactile, and that’s all you need for this.”

His entire demeanor had changed on a dime. He went from raging and furiously mean to gentle and bolstering. But of course he would. Anything to coax her into doing these acts for him. He was determined to get his jollies at her hands, damn him. She tried to hold on to that thought of anger as he drew her closer to the shower, hoping it would help fuel the courage she needed to do this.

He let her step in ahead of him.

“Too hot?” he asked.

She shook her head. She liked super-hot water when she bathed. Right then it was a bracing sting of heat, just one more too real sensation that reminded her this wasn’t a dream anymore. It was all too real, and so was Adrian.

The moment he stepped into the confined space, she felt overshadowed and small. Not an easy trick considering she was as tall as some kind of demented Amazon and had a bum the size of Sydney. He, on the other hand, had an amazing ass, she thought as he turned his back to her for a moment. She pushed her wet hair out of her face so she could get a better view of those rock-hard glutes and the enormously solid and undeniably powerful thighs they flowed into.

Oh my God! I’m ogling his ass! She realized this just in time to rip her gaze away before he turned back and caught her at it. Why was it that with every passing minute he became less and less grotesque to her and more and more irresistible to look at? What the hell was going on around here? Maybe she was in another dream.

She hoped that wasn’t the case, she thought as he held out a bar of soap and a washcloth to her, because if it was, she was some kind of pervert in her subconscious brain. But in the light of day he wasn’t so intimidating in size as he had seemed the night before. Her eyes riveted to the flesh hanging below his waist, the relaxed state of his penis making it seem somehow harmless. Not totally harmless, though, she thought as it seemed to twitch right before her eyes. Like its master, it could become a volatile monster at the drop of a hat.

“Generally it helps if you rub the soap onto the washcloth.”

His voice startled her and she blushed hot as she met his knowing eyes. She’d been staring at his privates and he knew it! Kathryn lowered her face and began to furiously scrub the soap into the cloth. God, how was she ever going to pull this off?

When she had a lather well worked up, he reached out to stop her frantic scrubbing. She looked up into his eyes, expecting to see some kind of smug satisfaction there, but was surprised to see tenderness instead. He laid the soap aside and, taking her by the same wrist she held the washcloth in, he drew her closer and settled her soapy hand against his chest.

“I’m not going to bite you,” he teased her softly.

“With you I can never be sure,” she quipped back before she thought of what she was saying. To her relief he laughed. The sound seemed to surprise them both. Rich and rolling and inherently male, it was also a tad bit rusty, as if he didn’t use it often at all.

Feeling suddenly more at ease, she began to move her hand in slow, widening circles on his chest. She took her time studying what she was washing, finding him so much closer to normal when she broke him down into parts instead of seeing him as a whole. He was incredibly muscular, as if he lifted weights maniacally, each muscle sculpted hard and definitively. His nipples stood out starkly before she washed over them, two disks of russet in amongst the paleness of his skin. It was obvious to her that he didn’t go outside much. He had nothing resembling a tan on any part of him. Why would that be, she wondered. From what he had told her, they were alone in this particular plane. There would be no one to see him, no one he had to hide from. In the dream he had seemed to relish being out of doors, riding the mounts he had fabricated with zeal and, perhaps, fervor.

“Are there no horses here?” she asked him, obviously surprising him with the question.

“I don’t know. Even if there were, it would be hard to care for them. It’s easier to manipulate a dream and ride that way.”

“Easier, but not as real. I know you’re good at what you do—I’ve experienced it for myself—but no dream can beat out the real magnificence of riding a horse.”

“I’ll have to take your word for that.”

She looked at him in surprise. “You mean you’ve never ridden a horse for real? Never at all?”

“Never,” he assured her.

“Then how do you know what it’s like? How can you possibly make it up when you have never done it for yourself?”

“Because someone dreamed of the experience and I felt it as if it were real. Just as anyone can feel the experience when a great writer puts it down on paper, only I truly get to see and feel everything. Like a three-dimensional movie. It’s no different from any fantasy you may have.” He slowly reached out and fastened his hands onto her waist. He leaned in and sniffed against her wet hair. “Have I told you how amazing you smell?”

“Smell?” She laughed uncomfortably. “I don’t think so. I haven’t even showered in a couple of days, I don’t think.”

“Then let’s fix that.” Before she could stop him, he took the soap from where he’d left it and spun it rapidly between his hands until he’d worked up a fierce lather. Then he reached for her, wrapping soap, hands, and the tips of deadly claws around her neck and shoulders. The erotic danger of having them against her skin sent a shot of pure heat down the center of her body, causing her nipples to tighten almost painfully and wet warmth to gather between her legs. She caught her breath at both the sensations and her body’s reaction to it. Then he used his grip on her shoulders to turn her away from him, his hands running down the long length of her back as the hot water pelted her sensitive skin in front. He went slowly over her, again and again, leaving no contour unexplored, no nerve ending untouched. She gasped when he slid below her waist and shaped each cheek of her bum with care and focus, those ever-present nails of his running over her again and again until she was flushed with a heat to outshine the shower itself.

Then his hands came around her waist and onto her belly. He wasted no time at all before he was reaching to palm both of her breasts in his hands, washing over them again and again in excruciatingly slow swirls until her nipples were screaming from the sensation and her whole body was flushed hot and teetering on pinpoints.

“This wasn’t part of our deal,” she murmured inanely.

“Do you want me to stop?”

And just to prove he would, he stopped still on her breasts, not moving an inch.

Adrian prayed she would say no. He had never felt anything so glorious as her wet, slippery flesh in his hands. Because there were so few women in his plane, he had never had the opportunity to touch a woman for real before. Oh, he had been a dark and sometimes violent lover to many in their nightmares and darkest fantasies, but never in the real world. Never had he experienced anything so richly arousing as having his hands on her body. He had thought having her bathe him would be the most exciting thing ever, but right now it was paling in his mind compared to how it felt to touch the warm globes of her breasts with the slickness of soap to heighten the sensation all the more.

He wanted more. So much more. But he wouldn’t continue without her permission. He was determined to prove to her that he could be trusted, determined to prove it to himself as well.

“No,” she said in a very small voice, “I don’t want you to stop. I…I like what you’re doing. It feels good.”

The air decompressed from his lungs in a sudden gush of shock. He had known she was aroused, his sensitive sense of smell telling him that loud and clear, but he hadn’t expected her to admit to it in any way. His own aroused state skyrocketed at the admission, his mild erection suddenly becoming anything but mild. As close up against her back as he was, he knew she’d feel the change if she pressed back against him in any way.

And as if she read the thought right out of his mind, she did exactly that. Her soap-washed buttocks backed right into his heavy cock, the weight of it sliding up along the crease between her cheeks, the head bumping into the small of her back. She made a sound of surprise at the sensation and she whipped around, her belly now becoming his resting place. She gaped down at him for a moment, and then she reached out quite boldly and ran her fingers down the length of his shaft. Instantly it leapt up into her touch, like a dog bumping an owner’s hand for affection, and he heard her giggle. He couldn’t be as amused right then. He was hyperfocused on what her touch felt like, and the rivers of shocking need it sent straight to the seat of his testicles. Just when he thought he’d never felt anything quite so stimulating in his life, she carefully closed her hand around him. Well, almost around him. He was far too thick for her to make it. Still, it didn’t matter. He closed his eyes briefly as it overwhelmed him to feel her, to understand she was doing this of her own free will and not because he had suckered her into some kind of unfair bargain. If she had meant it to be a part of that, she would have used the hand with the washcloth in it.

Instead she fixed herself with blatant curiosity around him and blushed deeply as she kept her eyes lowered and trained on what she was doing. He wanted to watch it too, but he couldn’t take his eyes off her beautiful face and the expression of wonder it held.

“Am I…? Does it hurt?” she asked him in barely a whisper.

“Not in the way you mean,” he said gruffly.

That earned him the swift lift of her gaze to his.

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“Remember, whenever you touch me with good intentions it causes me a measure of pain.” She gasped and went to pull away, but he anticipated her and closed his hand over hers to hold her right where she was. “It isn’t like it was when it first happened. It becomes more and more bearable each time. And even if it wasn’t, I wouldn’t want you to stop for anything in the world.”

“Oh,” she breathed, her thumb flicking absently beneath the head of his cock and sending pleasure rocketing through him and straight to his heels. “Don’t think I’m…It’s just that…I’ve never touched one before.”

“Never?” he echoed, the words helping him to focus.

“Never. Until last night I’d never seen a real one. And this isn’t hurting you?” she double-checked, pinning him with stern eyes as if she might catch him in a lie about it.

“Kathryn, it’s the most incredible feeling I’ve ever known. You forget, there aren’t many women where I come from. This…this is the first time a real woman has ever touched me like this.”

Oh, she liked that. He could tell by the expression of satisfaction that bled over her, not to mention the smile that curled the corners of her lips.

“So you’re just as innocent of women as I am of men,” she realized as her closed hand rode down his entire length.

“I have been with many women in the realms of their dreams.”

“And I’ve been with Gerard Butler in the realms of my dreams. That doesn’t make it real. This is real.”

Adrian groaned when she rushed her slick hand back up to the sensitive head of his cock and then cradled it against her palm as she rubbed around and around the knob of flesh. He reached out to steady himself against the shower wall, trying to take deep breaths as his heartbeat kicked into overdrive. She was right. This was nothing like any dream he’d ever been a part of. Firstly, it was so much…gentler. Secondly, the sensations were far keener than he’d ever imagined. The difference between his own hand and hers was like night and day. So much so that he quickly realized he was in real danger of reaching climax just from her simple and extraordinary touches.