Page 31 of The Naiad's Lover

I’d had some workmen come in autumn last year and build a small courtyard of flagstones set on gravel, as it seemed likely that the pump would get a fair bit of use. Not necessarily from me—I’d found Sayan out here more than once, working the handle and watching the water gush out.

He’d been transfixed.

He could lift the water straight out of the ground if he wanted, and yet for some unfathomable reason, the clanking handle seemed to fascinate him.

Since the area was a little suntrap and also a favourite place of his to sit, I had plans to add some potted cypress and olivetrees to make him an ornamental grove, if I could find any hardy enough to survive this climate.

But that was for later.

I had other plans on my mind right now, and I stripped quickly out of my clothes.

“I do not know why you bothered putting them on,” Sayan said.

“Yes, you do. I don’t want to be caught running around the countryside naked.”

Sayan crowded behind me. “Humans are so foolish,” he said, sliding his hands around my waist and pressing himself against me. He squeezed until I gasped and slapped at his arms with a short laugh.

“Are you including me in that general insult?” I asked.

“Yes.” He curled over me and pulsed his hips into my arse at a languorous pace. “Must you wash?”

“I must.”

“Foolish.” He groaned and humped against me, nudging my head to the side and opening his mouth over my neck to hungrily suck.

“I’ll be quicker if you let me get on with it,” I said, attempting to unwind the strong arm that had slipped lower to brace my hips for his gentle fucking motion.

“Hmm,” was all he said.

“Sayan.” I put an edge of firmness into my voice.

He tensed, then let me go and vanished.

I didn’t hear the door open or shut, but that didn’t mean anything. He was silent when he wanted to be. It was even odds that he’d whisked off into the trees or slipped inside. I’d find out soon enough.

I took the small piece of soap from the pot I now kept out here for any post-lesson washes, and lathered it quickly. I wasn’t inclined to linger; the pump drew water from deep undergroundand it was wickedly cold. I soaped myself swiftly, rinsed off, and made my way into the cabin.

I carried my armful of clothes to the bedchamber and set them in the hamper that I would empty and take into town to be laundered later this week. I was happy to cook and clean for myself, but laundry was beyond me.

Endless buckets of water to heat, endless scrubbing, and soaking, and rinsing. After all that, I had to wring it out before I hung it, where it would steam up the kitchen? No, thank you.

I’d tried only twice before I decided that it was best to leave it to the professionals.

The front door opened and shut quietly. I turned to see Sayan standing in the bedchamber doorway. His hungry gaze raked my body from head to toe.

Feeling unusually playful I returned his gaze with a bold one of my own, and cocked a hip.

He tilted his head.

“Go and sit on the bed,” I said.

He hesitated, then stalked past me and sat on the edge of the mattress.

“Get comfortable,” I said, because he’d perched there expectantly, resting his hands on his knees.

He flung himself backwards and writhed about until he was comfortably settled against the headboard.

There were more efficient ways to do it, but he loved feeling the fabric sliding over his skin, and tended to make a meal of things.

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