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“The wedding is tomorrow,” he finally says. His voice echoes off the marble.
“Oh.” I stare harder at the tiled floor.
“You didn’t know?”
“How could I? I’m not exactly kept informed.” I feel sweat drip down the back of my neck.
“Yes, well, I didn’t really think you were going to start breaking things over me, but…” I look up, waiting. He shrugs. The water shifts and breaks over his collarbones. His hair is mostly dry, but sweat sticks the ends to his skin. “It felt good to wonder.” His eyes meet mine.
I keep eye contact as I walk towards him. His expression becomes more uncertain with each second that I do not stop. I step over the edge and straight in. Maven sits up as I settle into the other side of the tub. “Mare?”
“If you’re going to ignore me for your new bride from now on then I’m ruining your bath this once.” I close my eyes and sink in to my chin. The constant tension in my shoulders finally starts to loosen. Wherever his feet are, I don’t feel them.
Is he stunned, shocked, outraged? Silence hangs over the moment. I finally look to see him smile.
“You are moved.”
“I thought Evangeline would have turned you into a pincushion by now.” I slip off my socks and toss them to the tile. The lavender and peppermint in the air makes it almost easy to close my eyes around the fire king.
“She’s planning something, or you wouldn’t be in here.”
I take off the only sweater I am allowed to have and drop it, too. My body shakes constantly without it. Now, I boil. “You didn’t have to choose her after you framed him--”
“Well, I couldn’t exactly choose the person I wanted, could I?” The air turns cold. The dichotomy of cold sweat and hot water makes me shiver. Maven’s eyes are electric. They try to pin me in my place. Again, I feel myself move closer. Again, my mouth runs on its own.
“You threw me into an arena to die,” I feel his feet.
“You keep me chained up in your palace, guarded night and day,” I feel his knees.
“You leave me in an empty room, ignored, alone, for months at a time--”
“You think I enjoy seeing you like this?” he murmurs. We are not chest to chest. We are almost chest to chest. “You think I want to keep you a prisoner?” Something hitches in his breath. I feel it in my toes. “It’s the only way you’ll stay with me.”
“That is so stupid,” I lift my hand above the water. His eyes follow it. I wrap it around his neck. He stares at me. I watch his mouth. We collide so hard teeth click. I tilt more and kiss deeper. His hands dig into my waist and I scramble to sit with my legs outside of his. I grip one shoulder hard enough to bruise. The other hand is lost in those curls.
Gasps and moans fill the air. I finally learn what his chest feels like. The water temperature rises and rises.
“Maven!” I pull back, gasping. “It's too hot!”
His expression stays dazed for a moment. Then he moves to the opposite side of the tub. His arm ensnares me to his chest as he drags me along. After a beat, I hear the sound of a drain. After a beat, I wonder what I’m doing. After a beat, Maven finds the edge of my shirt. I take it off.
He freezes. Uncertain, I hold the shirt instead of throwing it.
“Is--” I lick my lips, “Is this okay?”
“Always,” he breathes. He shifts until his legs are bent and I rest on them. For once, we are eye to eye. The water is still hot and high. Such a large bathtub will take an eternity to empty. He traces my neck to my shoulder to his M.
"That was a bastard thing to do."
Maven laughs, “Am I not a bastard?” He leans forward and continues to trace with his mouth. His teeth. His tongue.
The scar is still sensitive after so many months. My back arches with each scrape. My nails dig in his hair. We grind against each other. I moan his name. He moves back to my mouth and I’m lost to his kiss. To being fully surrounded by Maven Calore.
I push away after a while, my hand over his heart. His pulse is nowhere near as fast as mine. The water is at my stomach now, but I’m still lightheaded. Maven tilts his head, a question in his eyes.
“I’m still weak, Maven.” I hold up my arm to show it trembling and his eyes lock on the bracelet.
He exhales and lifts his chin to stare at the ceiling. “Right.” He moves me off of him, braces his arms against the sides of the tub, and starts to stand. Then turns white and sits down. We both look anywhere but at each other as I hear him get out of the water. I hear the rustle of fabric and the bathroom door open and close.
Is he coming back? I examine his bath things for any that are edible. I may not make it out of this tub. Do I want him to come back? My nerve is nearly gone and I am nearly asleep when the door opens again. Maven has a tray in one hand.
“Get out here and you can have this.” The smell makes my mouth water. “The robes are in that cabinet.” He closes the door.
Wrapped in a black silk robe that covers me neck to toe, I leave the bathroom. Maven found two chairs somewhere and is leaning back in one with his legs kicked up on the mattress. The other is beside him with the tray on the seat. I hesitate, and walk towards them. I reach for the food and Maven’s arm quickly blocks it. I glare, “Wh--”
“Hands, first.” He holds out his own, waiting.
“You only said I had to leave the bathroom.” My arms are crossed, though you can barely see them. The silk arms blend into the silk body of the roomy robe. His is almost identical, except for the white detailing.
“I am the King. I make the rules.” He shakes his hand slightly, a silent ‘Do it.’
I stare at him. Maven rolls his eyes. “It won’t hurt. I promise.”
I sigh and hold out my arms. He pulls a key from his pocket. Shock straightens my spine. He unlocks the first, then the second manacle. He watches me cry at the weightlessness of my arms and the lack of power within me. “For what it’s worth, I am sorry.”
“Not worth very much, Maven.” I wipe my eyes and again reach for the tray. If he blocks me, I’ll chew his arm off. He doesn’t. He watches me with his arms out as I settle unsteadily onto the seat.
“Why now?”
“I ask you the same, Mare Barrow.” I shut my mouth and eat. He settles back into his first position. I try unsuccessfully to find something else to watch. There’s a bright red hickey on his pale neck. My brand smarts slightly and I wonder what color it turned.
I push the words out as quickly as I think them. If I pause, I’ll never say it. “I’ve wanted you for a long time, Maven Calore. This may be my last chance. So I took it.” My face is on fire. Maven’s head whips around and his mouth is parted slightly. I stare at the floor.
He says nothing. Why is he saying nothing? I shift in my seat. How long can a person blush? Why isn’t he saying anything?
“It isn’t right to kiss you when you’re bound. Taking all four off at once may hurt more than it helps.” Now it is my jaw’s turn to drop. His blue eyes pierce mine. “I want you to be here with me fully. Not coerced. Not tricked. You may stop at any time.” He smirks, “Or start.”
My lower stomach throbs. I try to lick my lips, but my mouth is dry, “What if I don’t know how to start?”
He pushes the tray to the ground. The clatter is almost as overwhelming as his warm hands on my hips as he lifts me and sits me on the bed. My legs wrap around his waist. Maven brushes the robe off of my shoulder and replaces it with his mouth. I scoot backward and tug him forward until we hit the headboard. The robe is lost.
His hands trace the edges of my breasts and I croak, “Do it.”
He bites, tugs, licks. He learns fast what to do to me. I grind against him.
He goes limp first and drops on top of me. He lifts his head and his cheeks are pale. I kiss them. I kiss his eyelids, nose, mouth. I push him gently until he is under me. His robe gets tossed somewhere. I trail kisses everywhere, anywhere. Until his body is hard all over. Until he moves as though to flip us back.
I push Maven’s shoulders back down and put my weight into it, “No.” I feel him throb under me. His eyebrows raise. “I make the rules, remember?”
“All hail King Mare,” he gasps as I bite, tug, lick and learn what to do to him. His body is hot under my thighs. Sweat drips down my spine. I lean in close to watch his eyes open and his gaze refocus. We share a smile. He runs his hands down my back and holds my hips.
I whisper, “I’ve never done this before.”
“I haven’t either,” Maven whispers back.
“Do you want to?”
He traces that M again, “I do. Do you?”
I tangle our fingers together, “Yes.”
We fumble and shift and it’s embarrassing and weird and I don’t care. He thrusts and the angle is wrong and then it’s right and then it’s good . My legs get tired and we flip again and he’s so tall all I see is chest. My heart pounds and aches and I’m happy I gave in, for once. He shakes first, again, but it’s okay. I know myself and I crash straight after.
I come back to myself and I’m resting on his chest. My head is in his shoulder crook and Maven’s hand is in my hair, stroking, stroking. I rest my hand over his heart. Our pulses sing me to sleep.
I wake up to Maven curled behind and around me. One arm is under my head and one holds me close. We are under sheets that are cool to the touch. My stomach growls as it recognizes the smell of meat. I slowly ease up and see a new tray on the seat. I find a robe and pull it on and eat. I’m halfway through before I realize the change. My ankle manacles are gone. My hands shake. I watch Maven breathe slowly and evenly. A few steps to the left and I could be free.
I climb back under the sheets and sink into Maven’s arms.