The Crown Princess Faked Her Death and Married the Mercenary King novel · Chapter 6 of 24

Chapter 6: The Spring

There was a hot spring under Cheolgwan.

The last grain wagon rolled through the south gate at midnight.

Do-gyeom took her down to the spring by a stair cut into the rock behind the kitchens.

The cave at the bottom was warm and dim.

Steam curled up from a round pool of black water, and a single lantern hung from a nail in the wall.

"Three days," he said, "since you slept."

"I slept on the cot."

"You slept for an hour with your boots on."

She let him take the coat from her shoulders.

He folded it over a rock, and then he knelt and unlaced her boots himself.

He did it carefully.

Her throat ached.

"I can undress myself," said Ha-rin.

"I know. Let me."

She let him.

He peeled her shirt over her head and her trousers down her legs.

She stood naked in the lantern light, and he looked at her for so long that she flushed from her throat to her stomach.

"You're staring."

"I'm learning you."

He took off his own clothes quickly, hardly looking at them.

He was already half hard, and heavy, and he stood there under her eyes without shame.

She took his hand.

They stepped down into the water together.

It was so hot it stung her knees, then her thighs, then her hips.

Then it closed over her breasts and she sighed out loud.

"Gods."

"Better?"

"It's the best thing that's ever happened to me."

"I'll try not to be offended."

She laughed and splashed him.

He caught her wrist and pulled her through the water into his arms.

The laugh turned into a gasp when his skin met hers, hot and slick.

He kissed her slowly.

The kiss went on and on, his hands sliding over her wet back, her fingers digging into the muscle of his shoulders.

She felt him hard against her stomach.

She felt her own pulse, low and thick, between her legs.

"Sit," she said against his mouth.

"Where?"

She pointed to the stone ledge that ran around the pool, half under the water.

He sat.

The water lapped at his chest.

She straddled his thighs, facing him, with her knees on the warm stone and her arms around his neck.

His hands closed on her waist.

"Look at me," she said.

He looked.

In the lantern light his eyes were black, and wet lashes clumped over them, and the scar on his brow gleamed.

"I like this part of your face," she said, touching it.

"It's the ugly part."

"It's the part that got hit when you were protecting somebody."

His breath caught.

"How do you know that?"

"I don't. I'm guessing."

He didn't answer, but his fingers pressed harder into her skin.

She reached down between them and took his cock in her hand.

He was hot even under the hot water, thick and hard and smooth, and she stroked him slowly, root to tip.

His head fell back against the rock.

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