Stolen by the Rebel King
Chapter 575: A Bruising Kiss I

Chapter 575: A Bruising Kiss I

At Daphne’s words and her gentle touch, Atticus felt his entire body heating up. His mouth ran dry, and he could only give a brief, jerky nod. All his words threatened to trip over each other as they tried to stumble out of his mouth.

He had not imagined Daphne’s willingness to once again engage in intimacy. The strength of his desire for her had almost threatened to overwhelm him, and he had to use every bit of his composure to avoid pawing at her like a desperate lovelorn beast and causing her to change her mind.

No, Atticus was a better man than that. Thankfully, the bath had been kept clean even in his long absence, so he didn’t have to worry about pests living inside it. Seeing a rat or two would have sent Daphne back to Nedour and put a damper on Atticus’s plans of seduction.

Atticus paused before he used his powers to create tiny ripples just to make sure there were no uninvited guests. He also ensured that the bathwater was at Daphne’s favored temperature. When no extra lifeforms burst out, he offered Daphne his arm.

"After you, sunshine," Atticus said glibly, holding out a hand to lead Daphne inside first, in case she slipped and fell.

Daphne took it, her heart beating rapidly in her chest as she gingerly made her way down into the bath, sucking in a deep breath as her body was submerged in warmth.

She tilted her head up as a moan escaped her lips. Her muscles made a perfunctory protest at the heat before they relaxed, the warm water a balm for her aching muscles. She hadn’t realized how sore her body was when she was cooped up on a ship.

Now, it felt like she was finally at home, where she belonged. She could finally relax to her heart’s content.

It had been a long time since she had taken a bath in Atticus’s private bathhouse. From the moment where she had suspicions about Atticus’s character and his goals, she could not find it within herself to share a bath with him, baring her innermost self for him to see. They took their baths separately, and eventually, slept separately as well, creating a divide in their relationship.

Daphne was ready to cross that chasm. To her surprise, her husband was still standing dumbly outside of the bath.

"Are... are you not coming in?" Daphne asked, as she realized Atticus’s two feet remained outside. Then she looked further down, and a bright flush grew on her face.

He was hard already! They hadn’t even done anything yet!

Daphne could only thank her lucky stars that her own need wasn’t so obvious. Faced with the proof of Atticus’s desire, she could only respond in kind.

Atticus jolted. From his current vantage point, he could see the delectable soft curves of Daphne’s chest before they were submerged entirely in the water. The pale skin had heated up because of the warmth from the bathwater, and Atticus was feeling similarly feverish.

The moan Daphne had let out had not helped matters. He mentally scolded his manhood for saluting at the briefest reminder of their bedroom encounters. So much for not being like a desperate lovelorn beast.

Then he caught sight of Daphne’s wide eyes, and her pupils bright with lust.

A smirk grew on his face. Perhaps a desperate lovelorn beast like him may have found an equally desperate partner.

With one quick motion, he stepped elegantly into the bath, and found himself face-to-face with his lovely wife.

"Daphne, where do you want me to start washing?" Atticus asked mischievously. He knew where and how she liked to be touched, but he wanted to hear her say it for herself.

Daphne crossed her arms, indirectly pushing up the swell of her breasts. Atticus’s eyes immediately darted to them, like the feral starving beast he was.

"Your wish is my command," Atticus said wickedly.

"I didn’t say anything― Atticus!" Daphne protested, but laughter burbled out of her lips as Atticus wrapped his arms around her waist, his fingers deliberately tickling her.

"I like hearing you laugh," Atticus confessed in a rush. "I missed it."

Daphne froze before a tremulous smile bloomed on her face. "I missed laughing with you too."

Before the mood could grow more somber, Atticus continued in a more playful, wicked tone. "And I definitely missed teasing you... making you squirm and beg for me."

Now, his hands drifted higher, where they cupped the full curves of her breasts. He squeezed them gently and delighted in Daphne’s little mewl of surprise.

However, his wife didn’t give in so easily. She puffed up her cheeks and let out a delicate, unimpressed sniff.

"You have an awfully high opinion of yourself, dear husband. It’s been a long while since we were intimate― are you sure you would be able to satisfy me, let alone make me beg? I heard from Cordelia that men were prone to finishing prematurely."

Atticus’s eyebrow twitched at Cordelia’s name. Even when he was back in his own kingdom, Cordelia could still haunt him from oceans away. There were several places that he did not wish to hear Cordelia’s name said, and being in a bath with his nude wife as she made judgments about his ability to perform his bedroom duties ranked very high on the list.

It would only be surpassed by Daphne moaning Cordelia’s name when he was inside her. God. Just the very thought sent chills down his spine. Not even seeing Cordelia’s name on the wedding invite next to Jonah’s name had caused such terror.

"I assure you, sunshine, I am not an ordinary man," Atticus said. He leaned in closer, looming over Daphne as he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer so they were pressed chest to chest.

Daphne’s mouth fell open with a squeak.

"You’ll be eating your words soon enough," Atticus promised, a rakish glint in his eyes before he covered her lips with a bruising kiss.

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