Flesh And Blood: House of Comarre: Book Two (House of Comarre 2) Painter, Kristen (historical books to read txt) 📖

She stayed on the edge, staring at him with disbelieving eyes that were very clearly not focused on his face. ‘You don’t have a bathing suit on.’

‘Boxer briefs are close enough.’ He winked and a hot, wicked surge charged through him like a freight train. ‘I’ve already seen you in your underthings, so quit stalling. I won’t let you drown.’

‘Drowning isn’t what I’m worried about.’ Her gaze remained downstream.

He planted his feet. ‘Plus, you could use a bath.’

‘What?’ Her head came up and her hands went to her hips. ‘I thought you said I didn’t smell.’

He shrugged. ‘My mother taught me better than that.’ He ducked underwater as her tank top sailed at his head, then broke the surface laughing. His laughter died the moment her fingers went to the drawstring of her loose pants.

She untied the string and let them drop.

It was a very good thing the water was on the cool side. He’d seen her tangled in the sheets of his bed, her body broken and bruised, but this … this was … very different. She stood at the pool’s edge, glazed by the sun’s dying light. Her blonde hair, her pale skin, her signum all a thousand shades of gold. He ached at the sight of her. At being so close to such beauty, and in that moment, his insides clenched with a powerful hunger.

He wanted her. Not just because he’d been seven years without a woman, but because of the woman she was. Didn’t hurt that Mal wanted her, too, but that was just the alpha male in him. Chrysabelle was the only woman who might ever really understand his purpose as a Kubai Mata.

‘You’re staring,’ she said.

‘Yes, I am. Because you’re beautiful.’ He moved toward her and patted the tiled edge. What he was about to do bordered on inappropriate, and he didn’t give a damn. ‘Sit. Let me have a look at those stitches.’

She dipped her head, her hair swinging forward as she sat, almost hiding the color rising in her cheeks. She dangled her legs in the water. ‘This feels very much like you’re trying to seduce me.’

‘Maybe I am.’ He moved between her knees. ‘Can you blame me? I’m a man.’ He checked the wounds. The flesh had knit seamlessly back together and was as new and unblemished as the rest of her body. The stitches no longer served a purpose.

‘Who hasn’t had a woman in a long time,’ she added.

That was for damn sure, but he’d had plenty of practice keeping his libido in check. ‘These stitches really need to come out.’

She pulled one foot out of the water. ‘I’ll get some scissors.’

‘No need.’ Hands on her hips, he pulled her to the very edge and leaned in toward her stomach.

Her fingers tightened on his biceps and she arched away from him. ‘What are you doing?’

‘Removing the knots. Hold still.’ He brought his mouth to her warm skin, found the knot with his tongue, and bit it off. She inhaled, body tensing. He leaned back, pulled the knot out of his mouth and showed it to her. ‘See?’

Her eyes had the look of a woman drunk on something she’d never tasted before, but there was conflict there, too. ‘We shouldn’t do this. I shouldn’t do this.’

He held on to her. ‘Then tell me to stop.’

She swallowed. ‘I don’t want to, even though I think I should.’

‘Because of Mal?’

She didn’t reply or try to leave. Enough of an answer for him. He took longer this time, trailing his tongue over her salty-sweet skin. Her nails dug into his flesh and she moaned softly.

‘Oh,’ she breathed. ‘That feels … ’

‘Good?’

‘Wrong.’ She exhaled. ‘We shouldn’t be doing this.’

‘You said that already.’ He kept his hands on her hips. The heat from her skin melted into his palms and traveled through his veins, sparking a fresh blaze within him.

‘It goes against everything I was raised to believe.’

A tick of desperation tensed his jaw. ‘The covenant is broken and you no longer live under comarré law.’ Despite the fact that she clung to many of the old ways. He forced the frustration out of his voice. He understood she was still finding her path. He brushed his thumbs over her ribs before taking his hands off her completely. ‘No one owns you. Not anymore.’

‘You mean Mal, don’t you?’ she said softly.

‘I just mean you’re free to make your own decisions.’ The pool lights switched on, surrounding them in a pale blue glow. He wanted to kiss her. Not a halfhearted peck like the last time when he’d been short on courage and long on doubt. A real kiss. The kind that would stay with her well after he’d left her for the evening.

But more than that, he wanted her to kiss him. For the intimacy to be her idea. Even now, he could see the temptation playing in her eyes.

She put her hands on the edge of the pool and lowered herself into the water, then planted her hands on his chest. ‘You’re smoother than I thought you’d be.’

She’d thought about what he would feel like. Knowing that made standing still a test of his control. Not pulling her into his arms was nearly impossible. He shivered with pent-up energy but let her do as she wished. Her fingers mapped the hollow of his throat, the crevices of his collar-bone, the valley of his chest.

‘Turn,’ she directed him.

He did, feeling the weight of her gaze on him, on the words branded into his skin. He stood for her, letting her look her fill.

After a bit, her fingertips found the raised lines and began to trace them. ‘Omnes honorate,’ she whispered.

‘Honor all men,’ he answered back.

‘Do you?’

‘The ones who deserve it, yes.’

Her fingers traveled on, sending small electric shocks through his body. ‘Fraternitatem diligite.’

‘Love the brotherhood,’ he translated, knowing full well she could read the words.

‘Have the Kubai Mata been good to you?’

‘They’ve brought me to you.’

She