Page 39 of Diary from an Inked Throne

I set down our food and drink stash on a little bit of decking that surrounded the tub. “It runs on gas, so it heats up really quickly. You’ll be boiling within twenty minutes.”

She splashed water at me. “Can’t wait.”

Lynx perched on the edge of the tub and uncorked the wine bottle. He watched her trailing her fingers through the water as he took a swig.

He passed it to me, and I probably should have poured it into a glass, but I was so busy watching her, I couldn’t even remember where I’d put them.

I was vaguely aware all three of us couldn’t take our eyes off her and she wasn’t even aware of it. Her long, dark hair fell down her back in gentle curls she must of hot curled in that morning because I knew her hair was naturally straight. Her dark eyes were downcast, watching the water, long, black lashes fanning out over her cheeks. Her pink lips curved up just a little into a soft smile that did things to my insides.

Things I’d only gotten to dream about for the last few months.

Fuck, it had been so long.

“Nyah,” I murmured.

She lifted her head. “Mmm?”

“Take your clothes off.”

She paused for a second, eyeing me, and then Lynx. “My body…it’s not the same as it was.”

I put the bottle of wine down and closed the gap between us. I circled my finger around the hollowed-out space at the base of her throat, one of the few places she actually had skin exposed to the cool night air. “Your body is perfect however it is. It always has been, always will be, no matter how it looks.”

Dax and Lynx sat behind us without saying a word, letting me have the moment with her. I leaned in and kissed the spot I’d been playing with.

Her head tipped back, allowing me access, and I licked her skin, tasting her for the first time in so long.

I closed my eyes, savoring her scent, reminding myself what she smelled and felt like in my arms.

I peeled off the fuzzy sweater that had been keeping her skin warm. She only had a camisole top beneath it, and she shivered as the cool night air hit her skin. “It’s cold,” she whispered.

I kissed a path across her chest and the swell of her tits. “You’ll be warm once you’re in the water.”

She caught my face with her hands, brushed her lips over mine, and said, “Then get me naked so I can get in it.”

She didn’t have to tell me twice. I liked this version of her, one who took charge and told me what she wanted. I’d expected her to be completely broken, and yet there was a strength inside her, one that had lit up when she’d stood in front of her friends and said her baby’s name out loud.

I undid the button on her jeans and dragged them down her legs. She was already barefoot, her shoes discarded somewhere back in the house along with mine. Her panties weren’t anything special, just plain cotton, but everything looked good on her in my opinion. I ran my finger along the edge of the elastic encasing her leg. “I’ve missed seeing you in nothing but panties.”

She glanced around the backyard, but I already knew how private it was. We had neighbors with houses as big as mine, but we also had trees that were a hundred years old, planted back when this area was first established with old money. They provided a private space, which my father had filled with people and parties. Any excuse to strengthen his network and show off how wealthy he was.

But the only party I wanted to have was with the three people here.

Nyah’s gaze settled back on me. “Then you should see me in nothing but panties.”

Before I could, she took off her camisole top and dropped it at her feet.

I couldn’t stop myself from getting my hands on her tits. They had always been a perfect handful, but now they overspilled my hands. I squeezed her nipples between my thumb and forefinger.

She pulled away quickly, and I instantly realized why. My fingertips were wet. “You still have milk.”

She nodded. “I know it’s stupid. I’ve been pumping. He’ll probably not even want to feed from me when he comes home, but just in case, I wanted to be ready.” She shrugged. “But you play with them at your own risk. I can’t guarantee you won’t get squirted in the eye.”

If it had been any other woman, this conversation probably would have been the biggest turn-off.

And yet because it was her, it wasn’t. There was nothing about her body I didn’t like. I lowered my head to suck one breast.

I’d had worse things in my mouth than nipples that tasted faintly of breastmilk.