"Will I truly be your only lover?" he whispered close to her ear, his palms flat on the shower walls on either side of her head. She was enclosed but in walls that would break the moment she displayed any resistance. It was his way of teaching her not to fear either his passion-rough voice or his desire-taut body.
"Yes." Her murmur was as soft as the feel of her skin.
Taking a chance, he slid a hand down the front of her body and cupped one heavy breast. She gasped, her body going taut. He squeezed gently, his mind whirling at the feel of her, the sensual weight of her in his palm. The things he was intending to do to her sweet flesh would probably curl her toes. "Princess, if we do this, no more separate bedrooms."
Silence.
"What? Don't like the terms?" He kept his hand on her breast, proprietary as hell. She'd given herself to him. Now she had to take all of him. No playing by arbitrary rules. Either they were husband and wife or they weren't. "If you don't, we stop right now. Right here." Reining in the possessiveness driving him, he gentled his demanding tone. "This is enough for today, if you're not ready."
The only urgency lay in the desire that had a stranglehold on his body. And that he could control if Hira was unwilling. She'd shown such courage in coming to him despite his anger that he'd grant her all the time she needed.
"I. . . My parents never. . . Is this acceptable?" It was a hesitant question.
The flaring possessiveness within him calmed at the innocent explanation. His wife had led a sheltered life, her only example of marriage being what she'd seen between her parents. It was becoming very clear to him that he'd have to fight those memories to claim her as his own.
Only then did he realize that he'd decided to fight for more than a marriage based on desire and practicality. He wanted the real thing. "I'm your husband and I say it is. Do you doubt me?" Smiling, he kissed the side of her neck.
A short pause. "No." But she didn't sound utterly convinced by his dominance in the relationship. He didn't want her to be. A wife who always agreed with him would be no fun at all. A real marriage included disagreements as much as it did loving, laughter and loyalty.
Grinning against her, he released her breast and soaped up his hands before putting the soap in the holder. A question shimmered into his mind. "Should I get protection, sweetheart?"
He felt her blush heat up her skin. "No. I visited a doctor before our marriage."
Delighted at not having to halt his exploration, he took a step back and ran his hands from her shoulders to the tops of her thighs. Her buttocks tightened under his touch and he stroked up to rub the soap in circles, blocking the spray with his body so that she remained soapy for his pleasure.
She made a tiny, woman sound. "Am I very dirty?"
He was fascinated by her smooth bottom, very aware of the heat and silky pleasure that awaited him below the curve he was caressing. Voracious and impatient, the rush of need was almost savage, but he controlled it with ruthless force. This time was about teaching his princess that she now belonged to the American she'd married. Without compromise.
"Filthy," he whispered against her neck. "The front of you is going to need extra attention."
She shook her head in desperation. "No, I'll do it."
"Uh-uh," he disagreed. "My privilege."
"Husband, what you make me feel may drive me crazy. You do not wish for a crazy wife."
Her panicked words made him want to tease her some more. Wrapping his arms around her body, he closed his hands over her breasts and then pressed his body flush against her back. In an effort to escape, she squeezed herself against the glass wall of the shower. He followed. His erection lay between them, hot and throbbing.
"Husband, please." The husky plea asked for mercy...not for an end to this highly charged game of pleasure but for completion.
"Don't you like this, cher?" She wiggled her body in response, settling him even more snugly against her.
"Stop that, unless you want me inside you right here, right now."
"Okay." She nodded vigorously. "I'm not afraid. You have been very careful of me. I'm ready. Truly, I am,"
He chuckled. "You're not getting away that easily."
"Why do you torture me?"
"Maybe I'm taking revenge for all the bad things you've done to me." He nipped at her neck again, aware that she reacted each time he indulged himself that way. . . She was a quiet lover, but he was a man who'd grown up with the whispers of the bayou. He knew how to listen for the softest of his wife's sighs, how to read the sweet tension in her feminine muscles, how to smell the scent of her desire. Hira was telling him what she liked, and he was paying damn close attention.
"I have not done such things!" She pushed back in rage but he was far stronger.
Fighting an urge to laugh in delight, he moved his hands until her nipples were between his fingers. At the same time, he nudged one leg between her thighs. She gasped. "Are you wet for me, Hira?" He pinched her nipples gently.
"I. . ." Her whole body trembled.
"Maybe I should check." He slid one hand from her breast down her damp stomach to the curls at the juncture of her thighs. Because his thigh was between hers, she couldn't close her legs even if she'd wanted to. He went slowly, watching for any sign that she wanted him to stop, even going so far as to start to slide his thigh out. She squeezed her legs together, not to halt his hand, but his withdrawal. His mouth dry with anticipation, he thrust his hair-roughened thigh between her smooth ones once more, his hand resting below her navel.
Whimpering, she let his fingers slide through her curls and into the delicate folds between her legs. So unbearably soft that she made him feel incredibly male, she shuddered as he stroked her sensitive flesh in search of heat. When he found it, he gently pushed a single finger inside her, just enough to tantalize, to tempt. She cried out, her slender frame racked by tremors. His own body went taut with desperation.
"Yes, you're wet." Voice beyond rough, he removed his hand and her body tried to follow. Chuckling hoarsely, he drew back and turned her in his arms, letting the water wash over her. "Wet all over."
Eyes almost blind with desire met his. "You must finish," she ordered.
"In a while." He had no idea how he was remaining in control. Perhaps it was the fact that despite her natural sultriness, she was an innocent and didn't know how to push him to the edge.
Then she made a sound of utter frustration and her hands clasped his erection. "Now!"
Pleasure splintered through his body as her hands held him with expertise that belied her claim of virginity.
Experience he could accept, lies he despised. Growling, he thrust a hand through her hair, scattering the pins to the floor and sending that black-and-gold waterfall cascading down her back. "Who else have you held in your hands?"
She scowled at him. "No one!" Then to his shock, she leaned forward and bit his lower lip, a sharp little snap that rocked him. "You have made me crazy as I warned."
It was the edgy remark that calmed the hunter. Perhaps he had pushed her to take this bold step. Hira, he was beginning to learn, was a very strong woman. A woman who went after what she wanted. A woman who acknowledged her mistakes and called on him to explain his own actions.
Reaching down between their bodies, he removed her hands, though she didn't go quietly. Moving them up above her head, he pinned them against the glass with one hand. She tried to escape, her eyes wild as she watched him soap up his free hand. Dropping the soap to the floor, he began to lather her breasts.
Her body shuddered. "Marc..."