Teaching Their Omega novel · Chapter 18 of 24

Chapter 18: The Sauna

The sauna sat at the edge of the pond in a skin of new snow.

A little cedar hut with a stovepipe and a window the size of a dinner plate.

Inside it was black dark and ninety degrees, with only the orange eye of the stove showing.

I stood on the lower bench in a towel with my hair pinned up, and I could not see my own hands.

"Sit," Declan said.

I sat.

The cedar was hot against the backs of my thighs.

I heard the ladle scrape, and then water hit the stones.

And the steam rolled over us in a soft white wall that smelled of pine and wet iron.

I heard him set the ladle down.

"Take off the towel."

I looked at where his voice was.

My eyes had adjusted a little, enough to find a lean pale shape on the upper bench, and the glint of his eyes.

He had never spoken to me in that voice.

It was low and plain and certain, and it went into the soft part of my belly.

I pulled the towel loose and dropped it.

"Good," he said. "Rhett."

"Here." Rhett's voice came from the corner by the door, where he sat in a towel with his big hands on his knees.

"You stay there. You don't touch her, you don't touch yourself, and you watch. If I want you, I'll say your name."

"Yes, Dec."

"Lowen."

"Yes?"

"Come up here."

I stood up in the dark.

I was dizzy from the heat, and my skin was slick with sweat all down my back and between my breasts.

And I climbed to the upper bench with my heart knocking.

He caught my wrist and drew me against him.

He was naked, and hot, and every long muscle of him was tight.

"You've given me every lesson," he said into my hair. "Tonight I'd like to give you one."

"Is this a lesson?"

"I wrote it myself."

I laughed, and the laugh broke into a gasp as he turned me with both hands and set my back against his chest.

He sat on the bench with his legs spread and pulled me down between them.

And I felt his cock against the small of my back, hard and burning.

His hands came up and cupped my breasts.

"I learned this from you," he said softly. "You never rush. You make a person wait. You make him say what he wants."

"And what do you want?"

"I want you to say it first."

I swallowed.

"Touch me," I said.

"Where?"

"Everywhere. Start with my breasts. Please."

"That's better. Say it again."

"Please touch my breasts, Declan."

He did.

He rolled my nipples between his fingers, slow and then harder.

And the sweat ran down my ribs and I leaned my head back on his shoulder, helpless.

His mouth found my ear.

"You're shaking."

"I'm hot."

"You're not hot. You're wanting." He bit the edge of my ear, and I moaned. "Open your legs."

I opened them.

His hand slid down my belly, over the softness of it, which he had learned to love, and dipped between my thighs.

He found me wet.

He found me so wet that it embarrassed me in the dark.

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