Chapter 9 : The Queen's Bath (and the Tyrant's Eye)

POV RUBY

Silas, the man in the impeccable suit, guided me through the labyrinth of marble and dark paintings. Each step echoed in the opulent silence of the mansion, and every member of staff who crossed our path lowered their gaze, a gesture of submission that reminded me again and again who Nevan was and, by extension, who I was now in this place. I was not the guest; I was the Boss's property.

He led me to a suite on the second floor that was larger than my entire apartment in Dublin. The walls were lined with silk, the bed was huge and four-postered, and the windows looked out onto a winter garden that was lost in the fog. It was a golden prison, a cage too beautiful to be real.

"The Lady," Silas began, his voice formal and icy, "has ordered a bath to be prepared and fresh clothes. The Chief will not return until the council meeting is over. Do not leave the suite without his permission.

"The Lady." The title echoed in my head like a mockery. Did they consider me his wife? His concubine? A cold rage ran through me, mixed with an excitement that burned in my gut.

When Silas left, slamming the heavy wooden door behind him, I approached the bathroom. It was a sanctuary of marble and steam. An antique lion-foot bathtub was already filled, the bubbling water releasing a scent of jasmine and sandalwood. There were lit candles, soft towels stacked neatly, and a cream-colored silk robe waiting on a chair. It was all so perfect, so calculatedly sensual, that it gave me chills.

I slowly undressed, dropping Nevan's gray T-shirt to the floor. The cool air in the room made me shiver. My body, marked by Nevan's hands, with the memory of his kiss and his erection still fresh in my mind, felt alien to me. I stepped into the bathtub, sighing as the hot water enveloped my skin. It was a feeling of luxury I hadn't experienced in years, a balm for my tense muscles and exhausted mind.

I closed my eyes, trying to erase the images of Nevan, of the man in the gallery, of the photos that proved my life had been his long before this kidnapping. But it was useless. His face, his blue eyes, the way his husky voice pronounced my name... it all invaded me.

My hand slid down my thigh, under the water, exploring my own skin with a curiosity that was not only mine, but also his. He had lit a fire in me that I didn't know how to extinguish. My fingertips brushed the soft skin of my groin, and the memory of his hand on me in the car, his finger torturing me in the previous chapter, came back with overwhelming force.

A moan escaped my lips. I curled up in the bathtub, the water rising up my neck as I caressed myself with a desperation that embarrassed me. It wasn't just pleasure; it was a search for control, an attempt to reclaim my own body from the clutches of his possession. Steam filled my lungs, and every caress of my fingers was a reminder of the closeness we had shared, of the promise of more.

My thighs opened under the water, and my fingers found the sensitive knot of my pleasure. I moaned again, louder this time, my head falling back as I surrendered to the sensation. Waves of pleasure washed over me, each more intense than the last, erasing the outside world, erasing fear, erasing Nevan... or so I thought.

Just as the climax was about to break me, I opened my eyes.

The sight froze my blood.

Nevan was standing in the doorway of the bathroom, leaning against the doorframe. He had changed out of his wet clothes and was now wearing a black silk shirt that hugged his broad shoulders, but his eyes were the same: steel blue, intense, and now filled with a wicked amusement that made me want to sink beneath the water. He hadn't missed a thing. He had been watching me.

My face flushed with such deep embarrassment that I couldn't breathe. I covered myself with my hands, trying to make myself small in the bathtub, but it was too late. He had seen everything.

"So this is what you do when you think you're alone, huh, Ruby?" His voice was a low whisper, but the sound filled the bathroom, echoing in every corner. "You don't disgust yourself now, do you? Or do you only disgust yourself when I'm the one touching you?"

Nevan entered the bathroom, closing the door behind him with a soft but definitive slam. He approached the bathtub, his steps slow and deliberate, each one a silent threat. He knelt beside me, the candlelight casting long, dark shadows across his hard face.

"It's... it's not what it looks like," I stammered, my voice trembling.

He smiled, a crooked smile that made me tremble. He reached out a hand and, with torturous slowness, brushed the wet skin of my thigh protruding from the water. His touch was fire.

"Oh, beautiful, it's exactly what it looks like," he said, his voice hoarse and laden with unholy intimacy. "You're desperate. You're wet. And you can't even lie to yourself that it wasn't my memory that was pushing you over the edge. I saw it in your eyes. My name in your moans.

He moved closer, his face inches from mine, the scent of his skin mingling with the jasmine in the bathroom.

"You have no control, Ruby. You have so little that you have to touch yourself thinking about the man who has you locked up. And let me tell you something..." His voice dropped to a whisper that made every hair on my body stand on end. "That's fucking exciting."

His hand moved up, his fingers brushing the edge of the tub, making my body tense. He looked directly into my eyes, his burning with an insatiable fire.

"I like that you touch yourself for me," he said, his voice dirtier than any words he had ever spoken before. "I like that you're desperate to feel me. But you know what I'd like even more, Ruby."

My breath caught. I could only stare at him, trapped by his gaze.

"I'd like you to ask me to finish what you started. To ask me to make you scream my name not just in your head, but out loud, until the servants on the other side of this mansion know exactly who owns you."

He jumped up, breaking the bubble of intimacy that surrounded us. He walked over to the towel rack, picked up the silk robe, and held it out to me.

"Get out of the water, Ruby. And get dressed. The council has finished its meeting. And I have business to attend to in my room."

He looked at me one last time, that wicked smile etched on his face, before turning and leaving the bathroom, leaving the door open.

I stood there, shivering in the water that now felt cold. The shame was a sharp pang, but beneath it, an even more powerful excitement ran through me. He had seen me. He had provoked me. And now, he was waiting for me. The fear was real, but the desire was undeniable. I knew that when I stepped out of that bathtub, I would cross a threshold from which there would be no turning back.