Total pages in book: 218
Estimated words: 205594 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1028(@200wpm)___ 822(@250wpm)___ 685(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 205594 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1028(@200wpm)___ 822(@250wpm)___ 685(@300wpm)
Those wings of his give a telling shake and he crouches low next to the tub. He picks up the bar of soap that he’d set aside and studies it, then looks at me.
I wink at him, even as I lower my foot onto the lip of the tub, keeping it out of the water as I wait to see how he’ll react.
“Do you toy with all the males that come into contact with you, I wonder?” Nemeth muses as he dips the soap into the water. The cake looks ridiculously small in his huge hand.
“Only the ones I like,” I tease. “Are you this shy around all women?”
“Only the ones I like,” he confesses, a sly look in my direction.
That makes me smile. I wiggle my toes at him, beaming. “You can’t be shy around me. I’ve sucked your cock and rubbed your knot. That should make you more at ease in my presence.”
Nemeth groans as if pained, closing his eyes. “And when you say such things, it reminds me of those moments and makes it impossible to concentrate.”
As if that’s such a bad thing. “You were the one that offered to bathe me.”
“So I did.” He drags the cake of soap through the water again and then lifts it to my leg. Nemeth carefully runs it over my calf, and the scent of roses fills the air.
Roses. Erynne does love her roses. I sigh with contentment and close my eyes. It doesn’t even matter that the water is cold. I love that someone’s taking care of me. I love that it’s Nemeth.
He grunts to himself as the soap moves over my foot. “You have such small toes. No claws, either. Humans really are a helpless race. I have no idea why you wish to war with mine.”
“I don’t want to war with anyone,” I deflect as he lifts my leg by the ankle and continues to wash me.
“No,” he muses. “You wouldn’t. You’d kiss everyone until they got along.”
“Not everyone. Only the handsome ones.”
“Then it’s a pity you’re stuck with me.” His big, wet hand trails up to my knee and rests there, going no higher.
I open one eye and scrutinize him. Why is he speaking so negatively of himself? Because I’m flirting? I thought he liked my blatant attempts at seduction. “Is something bothering you, Nemeth?”
“Aye,” he says, and moves to my other calf, washing it. He doesn’t look me in the eye. “I am reminded how very different we are. How you must have had a lively life back at court, full of suitors who were hungry for your attention. And then I think of myself, and how you must be with one such as me simply out of…boredom.”
Boredom? Frowning, I lift my clean foot and shove it against him, catching him in the arm. “Don’t be an arse.”
Nemeth blinks those soulful, glowing eyes at me. “I’m not. I am a scholar. A Fellian. I am acutely aware of what I am.” He holds up one hand. “I have claws. Fangs. Wings.”
“A knot,” I agree. “And a cute little tail.”
He shoots me a quelling look. “Tails are private. Do not call mine ‘cute’ or ‘little.’”
Oops. “If it helps, your knot is enormous.”
Nemeth’s wings twitch. After a moment, he admits, “That…does help, yes.” He starts to wash my leg again. “My point is that I know you are not truly interested in me. I am no court swain. I am not Liosian. I do not know how to properly court a human female.”
Court me? I blink in surprise at that. “You want to court me?”
“Is that so strange?” He gestures at my legs. “I am touching you. I share a bed with you. When my people mate, they mate for life.” He pauses. “I am asking if you truly wish to be mated to a Fellian. If you have thought this through.”
I’m without words. “We can’t just flirt and enjoy one another?”
“Is that all this is to you? A diversion?” He gives me a soulful look.
I swallow hard. I truly have no idea how to answer that. I adore flirting with him. I adore him. At the same time, I’m greatly aware that this flirting between us isn’t allowed. If my people were to find out that I’d kissed him? That I’d sucked his cock? I’d be treated like some sort of aberrant. I’d be a filthy whore in their eyes, Vestalin princess or not. I’d be giving up everything once I got out of here. My home would no longer welcome me.
I wouldn’t be a martyr and a heroine. I’d be a freak.
And yet the thought of turning Nemeth down makes me hurt, deep inside. I want to kiss him more. I want to touch him more. Six more years of being with him and not being with him might be more painful than being locked in this tower.