He glanced at my hand hovering over his groin, his dark brows furrowing. Then he nodded.
My fingers fumbled to loosen the belt and slide it from the loops of his pants, my voice soft. “Why are you so thin?”
“My stomach wouldn’t keep food down.” He stared at my body, his eyes roaming over my curves, but his gaze seemed to be lost to whatever nightmare Elaine had branded on his soul. “Another reflexive response Aiman couldn’t control.”
I left his pants hanging on his hips to circle my arms around his waist. The tight muscles of his back bunched beneath my palms as my fingers slid over his skin, holding him to me. He stood there like a steel beam in my arms yet he seemed so unsteady, leaning against me.
Finally, his hands lifted and eased up my spine, slowly, way too cautiously to satisfy my impatient need for the kind of touches he used to give me, but patience was exactly what he needed. I owed him that and so much more.
The scent of deodorant soap mixed with masculine musk reached my nose. I stood just at the edge of the water with Roark fully immersed behind me. He quickly scrubbed down his body then moved his lathered hands to my ass, taking extra time to massage and re-massage the bubbles into my skin.
When Roark’s breathing grew heavier, I knew he’d moved far past patient, his every stroke promising he’d fuck me into oblivion before the night was over.
With agonizing tenderness, Michio traced the edge of the marks on my neck as he told Jesse and Roark about Aiman’s intention to drain my power and kill me, skipping over how the prophecy had led to that decision.
He explained how the bite and consummation of my blood had ultimately broke the Drone’s hold on his mind. “I didn’t consciously try to bite you, Evie. I was operating on pure reflex, guided by my physiological response to fight.”
He assumed it was fight, but I suspected his body knew my blood was what it needed to overpower Aiman.
“I wanted you to bite me, and your body knew that. Thank fuck your instincts were stronger than Aiman’s control of your actions.”
We shared a look, a connection forged in hardship and love. Had he felt what I felt during that bite? The veracity in it? The way we’d conformed to our need to come together despite the odds against us? Had he felt my child reaching for him during the bite, drawing on his venom and absorbing his essence? I couldn’t ask without jumping into the prolific conversation of my pregnancy.
Jesse removed his shirt and toed off his boots. “You’re telling us the spiders don’t have control over their reflexes like you did? They’re programmed to mindlessly bite others? Then what?”
As Michio talked through the effects of the spider bite, Roark crouched behind me, his hands sliding the soap down my legs. My senses were heightened to his every touch, my skin shivering beneath the stroke of his fingers. He seemed single-mindedly committed to his task, his breaths attuned to mine, but I knew he was clinging to every word Michio said.
I looked for the shampoo to wash Michio’s hair, and the bottle appeared beside me, clutched in Jesse’s outstretched hand. He stood outside the splash of water, still wearing his pants. I reached past the bottle and cupped his jaw, relishing the scratch of his whiskers against my palm. I wanted to draw him to my mouth and suck the plump flesh of his bottom lip. I wanted to kiss along the line of his neck and lick the hollow of his throat. I wanted him twitching and groaning as I teased my mouth down his abs.
When I accepted the shampoo from him, he freed the button on his waistband. His pupils dilated as his gaze swept down my body and returned to my face.
Sweet pissing hell, he just removed his pants.
Michio watched us, not with jealousy but with something more…hesitant. Respect? Whatever it was softened his eyes and evened his breaths as he kicked off his boots. His pants and briefs followed.
It was torture-laced pleasure, standing there surrounded by three fiercely beautiful, naked men with all their sharp angles, warm skin, and visible strength. My fingers itched to touch. My mouth watered to lick as memories of their bodies moving around and in me sent a current of need through my core, gathering heat between my legs.
I reached toward Michio’s head and worked the shampoo into his hair. “You guys are killing me.”
Roark dragged soapy hands over my hips. “Goes both ways, love.”
Jesse’s eyes hooded and his hands clenched at his side. I glanced over my shoulder and found Roark’s cock thickening where it hung between his legs. But neither man moved to take it further, perhaps sensing that something was off about Michio.