She wanted to argue, to say that she didn't want a bath, that she just wanted to sleep, but Victor kissed her before she could speak. His tongue parted her lips, tasting of mint and something sweeter, pulling a soft sound from her throat.
He broke the kiss, resting his chin on her shoulder so his mouth barely brushed her ear. "I don't mind sharing," he whispered, "but I mark what's mine."
His eyes flashed with possessive heat as he drew her against him. "They need to understand," he said, voice dropping to a rumble that vibrated through her bones like the purr of some ancient predator, each syllable sliding against her skin like velvet over raw nerves, "that I claimed you first in every way that matters every way that makes your pulse quicken and your breath catch when you think no one's watching."
His hand slid down, fingers parting her under the petal-pink water, insistent and knowing. She arched, gasping, heat blooming beneath all the exhaustion and soreness.
