Page 39 of Claimed By the Krijese

I pause a beat. “Is that what you wish?”

“Maybe, but only if you’re not going to run away when you’re done.”

This mate of mine will be the death of me. “I will not run.”

“Good. That’s what I wish, then.”

Are all human females as bold with their mates as Iris appears to be? From what I know of them, I suspect, in most cases—except perhaps Maeve—they are. Within the privacy of their dwelling, perhaps Maeve is as well.

“What are you thinking about?” Iris asks.

I do not believe she would like to know that my thoughts have drifted to other females even if only to compare her to them. “That I like your boldness with me.”

Her cheek darkens in the dim interior of our tent. “It doesn’t turn you off? Some men don’t want a woman to ask for—or demand, really—what it is she wants.”

“I am notsomemale. I am your mate. Besides, I do not know your mind like you do so it is only right that you share your needs and wants just as I should share mine with you. How else will we know?”

Iris makes her sweet melodic sound. “There would be a lot more happy women in the universe if they had mates like you.”

I gently run the back of my finger over her dark-colored cheek. “The only female whose happiness I care about is yours.”

“You really are too good, you know that?”

“You make it easy to be so.” No one else besides Sorin could make me this way. “Let us wash.”

Iris nods, but makes no move to do so. Since she did say she wished for me to clean and dress her then it is up to me to move. I go to her bag that I placed beside her pallet and squat down.

“Do you have a preference for what you would like to wear?” I glance over at her.

“I have a pair of pajamas.” She laughs and joins me. “You probably have no idea what those are.”

I offer her the bag and she searches through it until she finds these…pajamas and hands them to me. They are made of a soft material and consist of a top and bottom covering similar to allthe other items she wears. I guide her to the water basin and place her coverings beside it. The cloth I used to clean Sorin is dirty, so I grab another one, wet it, and wring it out.

Then I gently wipe Iris’s face.

Chapter 19

Iris

No one has washed me since I was little, and even then, the sisters weren’t as gentle as Kala is being. In fact, my nipples harden and heaviness builds in my pelvis. My stomach has butterflies, but in a good way.

Kala washes my face, and once he’s satisfied, he switches to my left arm first. He cleans all sides of it and the end of my limb. I didn’t realize how sensual it would feel until he runs the wet cloth around it. A shudder runs up the length of my arm, and all the hairs stand up while gooseflesh appear. He finishes, rinses out the cloth, and cleans my right arm and my hand, even getting in between my fingers, which causes another full-body tremor.

I stare up at him while he cleans me, and it’s hard to tell in the dim light, but there appears to be a flicker of something shiny within the shadows that dance in his eyes. This is only the second or third time I’ve noticed it, but it’s definitely there. Nowhere near as bright as Sorin’s, but at least I know now I’m not imagining it.

Kala lifts his gaze from his ministrations to meet mine. The intensity in the depths of his black eyes makes my core throb. I press my thighs together to ease the ache he’s caused, but it doesn’t do any good. The only thing that will satisfy the yearning inside me is him.

He shifts a step to the side, and I realize it’s to block Sorin’s view of me in case he wakes up, although as exhausted as he was, I doubt that’ll happen. Still, I’m grateful for Kala protecting my modesty. Although I should have expected it to come, I’m not actually prepared for him to lift my shirt up and over my head so I’m only in my pants and ratty bra. No sexy lingerie for this bottomer.

He drops his gaze to my breasts with their hardened nipples peeking through the thin and tattered lace cups. His breaths quicken. When he traces one tip with the sharp edge of his clawed finger mine does as well. I’ve touched myself a million times over the years and not once have I felt an echo of the same touch on my breast in my core. But Kala’s makes me wet. Really, really wet. Embarrassingly so.

“Your scent.” He nearly groans. “I have never smelled anything like it before.”

“Is it bad?” I cringe. Man, do I stink?

He rattles his head. “It is the most desirous scent, and hardens my cock painfully.”

Oh.

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