Page 194 of The Mercy of Dawn

“I know exactly what you saw, thank you,” Cyril hissed.

The extent of what Mikael saw of her last night was something she was well aware of. Especially after he’d hauled her on top of him to show her exactly what he liked. Just the thought of it had her cheeks burning.

“The water is lovely, wrath,” he goaded.

Cyril groaned. “Just turn around! Please, Mika.”

Mikael rolled his eyes, but he turned to face the wall. He took a washcloth and soap from the shelf inlaid into the wall and busied himself with scrubbing down his chest and shoulders. Cyril may have stalled for a moment to appreciate the moving musculature of his back.

“You know,” he said, “I’ll have you sauntering about naked before you know it.”

Smug, insufferable arse.

Cyril laughed dryly. “Keep dreaming.”

His shirt landed in a pile on the floor before Cyril sank down the last few steps into the water. The blissful heat of it started seeping into her aching, tense body.

Cyril dipped beneath the surface, soaking through her hair, before she waded over to the prince. She skimmed a hand up his back, through the suds that rolled back over his shoulders.

“Thank you for your discretion,” she chuckled.

It was then Cyril learned that bathing with the prince involved very little actual bathing.

Mikael turned, taking the arms she slung across her chest for a hint of modesty, and eased them up around his neck. He walked her slowly back against the wall in the shallower part of the basin. Every firm inch of him—some parts much, much firmer than others—pressed up against her, and he looked down at her with that same sort of rapt interest she’d caught in his eyes so many times the night before.

“You’re insatiable,” she murmured.

The lips he hovered against hers pulled back into a grin.

“Entirely your doing, wrath. And—” Mikael took a ragged breath as Cyril eased her hand between them, wrapping her fingers around his cock. “—that is not helping.”

“No? I was just thinking about a rather enjoyable afternoon in the glen that I never got to repay you for…” Cyril stood up on her toes to capture the lips that he’d insisted on teasing her with. She worked her hand in slow, steady strokes. “Unless you don’t want me to…?”

“You don’t owe me anything, ever.” Mikael’s voice was rough as his hand settled over hers, squeezing and urging her movements faster. “But if you feel inclined to indulge me out of the kindness of that strange, sweet little heart of yours…I won’t say no.”

She grinned up at him. “Show me what you like.”

And show her Mikael did.

He guided her pace and touch until his breath came in ragged, broken pants and he abandoned his hold on Cyril’s hand to brace himself against the moonstone wall behind her.

“Do not stop,” he groaned, and Cyril had never felt so damn full of herself. Well, maybe she did the night before when she was on top of him and the same words came tumbling out of his mouth, even though the prince had done most of the work himself then. “Cyr, I—fucking hells.”

Mikael exhaled sharply through his nose and every cord of muscle in Cyril’s view tensed. The warmth of his release pulsed over her fingers as she stroked him through his quiet groans and shaky breaths.

When the tension finally seemed to slip from his muscles again, Mikael tipped her face up and claimed her mouth with a languid, sated kiss.

The pride that swelled up in her chest threatened to swallow her whole.

“I love seeing you smile like this,” he murmured when he finally took a half step back in the water, and, gods, she must have had a shit-eating grin on her face with how her cheeks ached.

Mikael eased her hand off of him with a shaky breath and glanced down between their bodies. A flicker of satisfaction danced in his eyes. Maybe a little amusement, too.

“I, uh—sorry about that.”

He went to pull her hand into the water, but she tugged it back and gave in to her itching curiosity.

Mikael's eyes flared, and he made a quiet noise as she ran her tongue along her fingers, through the traces of his spend. Heady, salty, a little bitter—Cyril didn’t hate it at all. Just when she was about to draw another finger into her mouth, Mikael grabbed her wrist.