Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 74932 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 375(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74932 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 375(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
“My lady?” he said again and this time his deep voice was hoarse and he seemed to be struggling to keep his eyes only on my face.
“You may look at me if you wish, Mr. Sark,” I told him, wondering where I got the confidence to be so bold. “Is it true what you said to the Prince about Kindred warriors liking ‘Elites’—females that your Goddess has blessed with extra curves?”
“Gods, yes, my lady.” His eyes roamed my form and once again I saw the ridge of his shaft growing under his black leather trousers. But this time the sight did not bring me terror—instead I felt powerful that I had engendered such a response in him.
It was another sensation I am unused to, but I found I liked it very much.
“Do you not intend to give me my treatment tonight, Mr. Sark?” I asked, nodding at the table in the corner.
He dragged his eyes from my naked breasts and looked up at me.
“I, er, thought that maybe you might feel too traumatized to want my hands on you. Er, I mean, to want a massage,” he said, frowning. “The events of this afternoon—”
“Were terrible,” I interrupted smoothly. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t want my treatment.”
He got up at once, leaving the book in his chair.
“Let me get the table in the right position.”
In no time, he had the padded table near the fireplace—close enough to feel the warmth of the fire without becoming too hot—and then he offered me a hand. I accepted it and he helped me onto the table.
I lay on my stomach with my face in the padded face-rest and waited to feel his hands on me. I confess, I was still a tiny bit tense, though nothing like the way I had been during our first treatment session. Then every inch of me was tight as a wire with terror, for I did not know what to expect. Now, thanks to The Rush and my more intimate knowledge of Sark and his intentions, I felt much easier in both body and spirit.
I heard him rubbing oil on his hands and then he began, as he had before, on my back and shoulders. This time I was able to enjoy the sensation of his big, warm hands on me. He was very gentle at first, but then he began to knead the tension in my shoulders, loosening me up and making me sigh with pleasure.
“Oh, thank you, Mr. Sark,” I murmured as I felt myself relaxing under his hands. “That feels lovely.”
“You’re certainly more, er, relaxed than you were yesterday,” he rumbled.
“I know you more now,” I said, deciding not to tell him about The Rush. “I know you do not wish to harm me or give me pain.”
“Why would I want to hurt you—or any female for that matter?” he growled.
“I don’t know,” I said honestly. “I only know that you are the only male who has ever touched me without the intent to give pain.”
“Does that bastard, Le’rank hurt you, Isla?” he demanded, his hands stilling on my back. “Is that what these old bruises are from?”
“I don’t wish to speak of him now,” I told him, passing over his use of my first name. Abruptly, I turned over so that I was lying on my back. “I want to talk about you, Mr. Sark,” I murmured, looking up at him. “Why are you really here?”
“To…to protect you.” His blue-gray eyes were roaming over my body again but I didn’t mind. In fact, the way he looked at me made me feel beautiful. “To serve you,” he said. “I only wish to serve you, my lady.”
“Then serve me,” I told him. I stretched languorously, my arms over my head and my breasts thrusting up. My nipples felt like stiff little peaks aching to be touched.
“How can I serve you?” Sark asked me, his deep voice hoarse again. “Tell me what you want me to do, my lady.”
“You asked how to make me glow,” I told him. “It is a slow process but you may start by touching me all over my body. Gently,” I emphasized, catching his eyes with my own. “You must not pinch or twist or…or poke…” My voice caught in my throat then and I nearly choked. I did not wish to think of Baslik or the way he has treated me in the past—I wanted to be completely in the moment with Sark.
He seemed to understand, for he cupped my cheek in his big, warm hand and looked into my eyes.
“Never, sweetheart,” he murmured. “I would never hurt you like that.”
“Thank you,” I whispered. “Then…you may continue my treatment.”
He nodded and got some more oil on his hands.
“If you want me to stop or there’s a place you don’t want me to touch, just tell me.” He rumbled.