~ HARTH ~
Being bathed by Tarkyn was the most erotic thing Harth had ever experienced. As he played that soap over her skin, her chest heaved and her hands trembled as much from desire as cold.
His massive, burnished body gleamed in the low light of the fire, and his eyes glowed with a fierce heat as he watched himself run the soap over her body, shivering occasionally and gripping her when she rubbed herself against him.
But after a few minutes of that, with both of them trembling, both their drives pressed to breaking point—and fueled by their sense of the others—Tarkyn made her stand on her own two feet as he quickly, efficiently, soaped up her legs.
There was a moment though, when he squatted at her feet, that he looked up at her, his eyes flashing the gold of his lion. Before she could say anything, he ran his fingers up the inside of her thigh, to the apex and found her with his fingers—slick and soapy against her softest skin.
