Free Bewitched in Budapest (Xcite Romance) by Justine Elyot

moment, the intimacy of it all overwhelmed me and I had to fight to keep from bursting into tears. After the hard work of putting up defences and keeping my suspicion reflex honed, it felt too strange to be relaxing, enjoying, trusting. Could love really be so simple?
    Soapy hands reached around to cleanse my skin, my belly, my breasts, the touch glidingly light. My nipples peaked again and I wriggled against him, a little coy at the way my burgeoning desires announced themselves.
    His were no less blatant though, my back and the crease of my bottom subject to an increasingly bruising attack from his erection. Could we do it in the bath? And if we did, would I ever be able to break my mental association between water and good sex? Maybe I should save it for dry land.
    He sponged my inner thighs and the outer part of my labia, keeping the stinging soap away from anywhere it might not be welcome. With a confident hand, he grabbed a thigh and pulled it up towards him, washing my captive leg then repeating the process with the other.
    I slipped around like a fish until I faced him, grinning and snatching the sponge from his hand. ‘Now I want to wash you. Do you shampoo your moustache?’
    ‘Of course.’
    ‘Do you trust me to do it?’
    ‘I’m not so sure.’
    I took the shampoo, fixed on my course, refusing to let him duck away from my foamy finger when I drew it along the bristly bank of hair.
    What happened next was a great boiling mess of giggles and swirling water and splashing and play fighting and yucky soapy kisses and sweet tongues entwined. We had to calm down when a candle fell from the shelf and fizzed out in the water.
    ‘Shit, that could have burnt us!’
    ‘You are a bad girl, Ruby.’ He clicked his tongue at me, fishing out the candle and patting my watery bottom en route.
    ‘Me! That was you, doing all the kicking and thrashing.’
    ‘You know what happen to bad girls?’
    ‘Tell me.’
    ‘They go to my bed.’
    ‘How awful for them.’
    ‘Yes, very awful. So are you a bad girl?’
    ‘Oh, I think so.’
    ‘Then I must get you to the bed immediately.’
    Thunder, more distant this time, mixed with the sound of disturbed water when he stood and reached for the towel.
    ‘No time to waste.’
    He took my hand and pulled me upright, wrapping me in the towel as I stepped out on to the floor with its treacherous slippery pools.
    He rubbed me vigorously, until my skin glowed and my hair was half-dry then he left the bathroom, towel wrapped around his waist so he resembled a modern-day gladiator, all rippling muscle and slick damp hair.
    Not for the first time I appreciated his rear view, drinking it in all the way to the bedroom, which was as dark as the bathroom and not just because of the cloud.
    Old-fashioned dark wood furniture, heavy and ornate, dominated the room, which had wall coverings in a doomy crimson hue to complete the effect. Shelves of strange figurines and ornaments took up one wall, and all was overlooked by a gigantic crucifix.
    ‘My mother’s taste,’ explained János, noticing my curiosity. ‘I don’t have time or money for change it.’
    He whipped off my towel and guided me to the bed with its dark overstuffed duvet and velvet throw. I don’t know what I’d expected – some kind of disarranged, nearly bare bedstead surrounded by perilous piles of CDs perhaps – but it hadn’t been this. The incongruity added to my feeling of sudden helplessness.
    ‘OK,’ I said, as he advanced upon me. ‘I’m finding this a little weird. Like … were you conceived in this bed?’
    He stared. ‘I don’t know. I suppose.’
    ‘Do you think we could … maybe the living room?’
    He sat down beside me. ‘I really have to decorate. This three years has been bad, you know? I think maybe I get a little depressed. Start things, don’t finish, lose my, ah, my …’
    ‘Will? Interest?’
    ‘Yes. Too much drink, too much party, too much sex with girls I don’t remember their name. My