Total pages in book: 55
Estimated words: 52247 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 261(@200wpm)___ 209(@250wpm)___ 174(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52247 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 261(@200wpm)___ 209(@250wpm)___ 174(@300wpm)
“No,” I murmur. “But they weren’t gentle.”
A dark sound rumbles in Lucius’ throat. He unwraps a new bar of soap, but when I reach for it he holds it away. “Let me.”
So I lie back and let the King of Vampires give me a bath. He scrubs every part of me with a soft cloth, including each finger. He has me face away from him and spends long minutes wetting and shampooing my hair. Each rinse washes away more of the intense events of the night. Selene the fighter fades into Selene the very pampered.
In all those years since Xavier came to my foster mother’s home and explained to me why I was an orphan why I had no pack. He explained the murderer still walked free and clear and unpunished, and he offered me the chance for revenge. I left my foster mother and went into his care, a barracks a cold, stripped down soldier’s life where pain and want were necessary tools to strengthen me. I spent the years between sixteen and twenty-one, those hormonal, formative years, learning to fight for my life every day, sleeping alone at night. Alone and untouched. Not even a mother’s caress. Not even a pat on the back.
I didn’t know how much I needed it, how much my skin missed human contact—even from someone who wasn’t human--until now. Until Lucius Frangelico rolled up his sleeves and handled me. This powerful ruler kneeling for me, serving me.
He’s not serving me, he’s indulging himself. Asserting his rights. His hands move over my body, handling me like a ripe piece of fruit. Like an antique that’s been hidden under layers of grime, found by a discerning eye and bought to be put on display. You belong to me, his fingers say. You are now my possession.
My body doesn’t mind. It just wants more of his touch. Every inch of my body awakens under his large hands. My breasts swell, my nipples tighten. I should be planning my strategy and gathering my resources for a long, entrenched fight. Instead, I vibrate with nervous, expectant energy. What will he do next? Where will he touch me? How good will it feel? In just a few short minutes, he transforms me from a spy in his household, to a woman.
His hands trespass between my legs and I scissor them together. He just waits until I relax again, and slides his large fingers down the seam of my inner thigh. Sensation ripples through me. My lips part and I suck in air as he rubs the soap into the trimmed hair covering my pussy.
“Stand up.” he orders, and signals me into the submissive position I took before, with my legs parted and my chest high, with my hands behind my head. “Eyes down.”
I obey, but watch out of the corner of my eye as his shirt falls to the floor. He’s stripping. I can’t stop myself from looking up at the swarthy expanse of muscle. He’s strong and perfectly formed, broad shoulders and tight stomach dusted with dark hair. A trail disappears into his trousers.
“Naughty pet.” He tips my chin up. I hold his eyes until a soft swath of fabric settles over my eyes. He’s using his tie to blindfold me.
“If you can’t obey, you lose privileges,” he murmurs, and there’s an edge to his voice that makes my legs weak. He lifts me into position, setting me back on the ledge. “Now part your legs,” he orders. I tremble for a few seconds before obeying.
“Hold still.”
I go rigid as he soaps up the patch between my legs and shaves me. My abs tighten against panicked tremors at each pass of the blade, but my pussy throbs wildly.
“Perfect.” Lucius runs a thumb over my smooth labia. A shot of water sluices across my sensitive bits as he takes the hand held sprayer and rinses me thoroughly. My hips tilt, seeking more stimulation.
His dark chuckle fills the bathroom.
Still blindfolded, I am rinsed and dried and swaddled in a fluffy robe. I reach for the eye covering and get a light nipple tweak in chastisement. He makes me wait a few minutes before removing it. He changed into a dressing robe, tied loosely over his broad chest and black slacks. He’s barefoot, but no less intimidating.
“Hungry, pet?” he asks, and lifts me in his strong arms before I can answer. Apparently he’s going to carry me everywhere tonight. I like it way too much. I’d rather he throw me in a dungeon, chain me up and feed me bread and water. Based on Xavier’s training, I expected to be brought into the enemy’s lair, beaten and subjugated and punished. I never expected to be pampered. I don’t have any defenses against kindness.
My body alive and singing, he carries me to the kitchen and seats me at a table.