Total pages in book: 204
Estimated words: 193124 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 966(@200wpm)___ 772(@250wpm)___ 644(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 193124 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 966(@200wpm)___ 772(@250wpm)___ 644(@300wpm)
“Fair enough.” He nods down at the water. “Another dip then, shall we.”
I indulge his command, dropping below the surface once more. When I reappear, he fills a separate bowl with clear water from the tap and rinses the soap out at the crown of my head over and over again—and after he puts the porcelain aside, he gathers my hair up and twists it into a knot on the top of my head.
“I think we can get to Prosperitus in a day.” He sits back a bit. “Provided we leave early.”
“Indeed?”
“Yes. All of our things were delivered by a very nice servant, and after I checked to make sure the contents of my pack were in hand, I consulted the map for want of anything else to look at. There’s a northerly route that’s far enough inland it avoids that mountain range we fought through altogether. It does cut close to the Fulcrum, but it’ll get us to well past your village in the daylight—not that I am suggesting we stop there, mind you.”
“Best we do not, yes.” I look at the suds that swirl about me on the surface of the warm water, obscuring and revealing my body by turns. “And if we can arrive at Prosperitus by nightfall that is … for the better.”
But fates, why do I think the King will see me? A woman traveler, with nothing to offer him?
Maybe Julion can help me, though.
“Then we leave at sunrise,” Merc says. “I was told to ring the bell if I needed anything and I’ll have our horses brought around. Wherever … around is.”
“At sunrise, yes.”
His smile tilts one half of his mouth up. And yet his eyes begin to glow with a very different intent than that of conversation.
“Shall we do the rest of you then?” he asks huskily.
I can only nod as I suddenly don’t trust my voice.
He comes back with the soft cloth and he soaps it up, before stroking the sudsy square down my back, my shoulders, my arms. And then he attends to my throat … and goes lower. At the first brush over my breast, I moan his name.
This is only the beginning. Soon, he is progressing even farther down.
As I split my thighs for him, I ease back until the tub catches me in a cradle. Merc is indeed very thorough, and soon the cloth is replaced by his hand, his fingers. The next thing I know, he rears up over the tub and we kiss until we’re both breathless—
The pleasure peaks for me and I jerk, splashing water out onto the floor and getting him wet. But there’s no stopping the release. I cling to him, to his mouth, his strong shoulders, his hand as my thighs clap together. And just before the energy starts to fade, I pop my eyes open and look to the ceiling.
The light show doesn’t repeat, and I know, though I cannot say how I know, that once expressed, it doesn’t come again.
A threshold being crossed. A journey made, and completed. And after it … a change in me that is permanent.
Merc eases back. “To the bed.”
“Yes…”
With strong, gentle hands, he helps me from the tub, guiding me up and over the rim. As I step out, I am naked before him and suddenly shy. For all the intimacy we’ve shared, it’s another thing to be standing like this—
“Sorrel…”
My name leaving his lips is a caress over all my flesh at once, and I’m shocked when he kneels before me. Running his hands up over my legs, he brushes his lips on my belly, on my hip, on my thigh. Gently, he urges my knees apart—and presses his mouth to the top of my sex.
I gasp and bend down. But not to stop him.
Merc goes lower, to my foot, and he puts my leg up so that my heel rests against the edge of the tub.
Then he leads with his mouth. And speaks the language of love to the very core of me. I’m shocked by the intimacy, and yet it seems so natural, especially as the pleasure peaks for me, the feel of his soft, wet mouth on my soft, wet flesh a match made in ecstasy.
The next thing I know, my knees buckle, and he catches me, stretching me out on the soft rug that covers the marble floor, joining me as he arches over my naked body. After I undo the buttons of his satin tunic, I pause at the bandage that has been applied to part of his chest.
“Are you well enough,” I ask roughly.
“It’ll take more than that to kill me. Much, much more.”
Trying to stay in the moment, I push my unease away and slide my hands up his back—
I stop as I get to a pattern of scars that mar his skin, and squeeze my eyes closed with piercing empathy. “Oh, Merc.”