“No!” She blurted, her eyes filled with anger that was directed at him. “No, don't touch me. I don't want you touching me at all. I won't let the hands of my intended murderer bring me pleasure,” A hurt look took over his face for only a moment but she refused to believe that he was hurt at all. He was so manipulative, he couldn't trust him. She couldn't take pity on his blunt words and insensitive attitude, she couldn't take pity on him. He wasn't even hurt. By Ignas, she hated him. “Also, I’m in no outfit to run around the Castle either. I’m too naked for that.” Two of her fingers slithered into her folds, and her body jolted forward, bringing her closer to Ikrus, who she now realized could see her absolutely naked under the clear water.
“Ikrus?” she moaned.
He hummed, his eyes darkening. “You should leave now.”
But he didn't!
He stayed, like he was frozen to that spot, like he couldn't move even if he tried. He just stayed there, kneeling by her bathing bowl, his grip tight around the edge of it while he looked at her. His expression was concealed, his eyes blank, his body tensed.
She couldn't figure out what was going on in his head, but she didn't need that; her thumb skimmed over her clit, and a mixture of a squeal and a moan slipped past her lips.
“I can't wait to go to the Pleasure House of your recommendation and find a partner, who will leave me weak and sore but wanting more ever after that,” the words rushed out of her mouth, tumbling over one another, as she sank her fingers into her, beginning a slow rhythmic thrust.
She stifled a moan, closing her eyes and throwing her head back. The gentle rippling of the water filled her ears, her breathing quickening.
The water was clear; he could probably see everything, watching as her fingers appeared and disappeared right back into her, her nipples going taut right before his eyes, goosebumps lacing her skin as she fought with pleasure that took her logical thinking hostage. She could feel his gaze heavy on her, and that did nothing but heighten her arousal.
By Ignas, why was he still watching?!
His presence made everything worse, harder to fight.
“The mark will punish you,” his words dragged with a growl, sounding more beastly than human. Her heart skipped a beat with the thoughts of him shifting, but her lust soon clouded her senses, for that did not matter. “No pleasure, just pain for both of us.”
She sank a damp hand into her hair, allowing the dripping water to run down her scalp. She needed to grip something strong, something warm.
Her hands itched to touch him but she gripped the bathing bowl tighter instead. She imagined what his fingers would feel like if they were in ones inside her instead, she imagined his tongue on her mark, his body against her— ah, by Ignas!
It was this stupid mark making her want him.
She didn't want him. She hated him, hated everything he stood for, hated his presence in her life. She wasn't about to give in to a mark that altered her thinking, a mark that was forced on her.
She would fight it. He was no longer in her plans, not in this way and she would rather die than allow it.
A chuckle pushed through her teeth as she forced her eyes open to look at him; it was hard not to roll her eyes shut while she spoke to him. It was hard to speak too but getting a reaction out of him turned blood to fire in her veins, it pleased her rage to know that under that cold and collected facade, he was just as affected.
She had the upper hand here and she would exploit it to no end.
His reaction brought her more pleasure than the fingers buried inside her, moving between wet and tight walls in search of ecstasy. It was a feeling that seemed to drive her insane.
“I have always loved a little pain. Heightens— the pleasure.” She gasped, biting back a moan. “Well, you can suffer.”
At her words, the look in his eyes promised murder.