Page 27 of Lhora
His eyes raked over her naked body. She wondered what had taken him so long.
“You’re a woman I feel an attraction for.”
“An attraction?” She harrumphed. “Can I take a stab at what kind?”
She expected him to say something in anger. Instead, he closed the door. Through the polished glass she watched as he quickly shucked his clothing, kicking his boots across the room. From her vantage point, she was able to see him in the full light of the sun. All prime, whetted muscle. The body of a man who diligently practiced with his weapon. Who pushed himself, and didn’t sit about all day.
Her eyes dropped to the impressive girth revealed once he’d dropped his pants. Her sexual experiences had been few, but they had been her choice. If Duren knew how to wield his male sword as expertly as his metal one, she might find herself benefitting from this encounter.
He noticed her observing the muscle between his legs as he stepped into the stall and closed the door behind him. “Turn around.”
“What?”
That smile she was beginning to like reappeared. “I said turn around. I’ll wash your back for you.”
She stared at him for a few seconds, then did as she was told. His arm reached past her, and she watched him touch one of the rocks making up the side of the waterfall. The rock flipped downward, revealing a small depression. Dipping his fingers inside, he scooped out a pale green substance, which he smeared on her back.
Soap mere.
His fingers worked the cream into a lather as his hands began kneading her skin. His touch was firm but not brutal, as men in her past tended to be. She could actually enjoy his ministrations, and she closed her eyes, moaning softly.
“You like?” he murmured.
“It smells nice. I’ve heard of soap mere, but I’ve never bathed with it.”
“You haven’t? What do you use? Flakes?”
“Yeah. Flakes.”
“We have that, too, but I prefer the mere.”
Lhora chuckled. “I wish we could have mere. We didn’t know the stuff existed until our dignitaries came over here.”
“Then I guess I’ll have to send some back with you.”
His hands rubbed her shoulders, gliding down her arms. When he reached her hands, he laced his fingers through hers and stepped up closer behind her. She felt his mouth teasing her neck and the sensitive skin under her ear.
Lhora arched her back, pressing up against his wide chest. His hands released hers, and calloused palms scoured her ribs. Her belly. Cupping her breasts before lathering them. She couldn’t keep herself from shivering from his touch.
“Cold?” He nuzzled her ear.
“No.”
She felt his smile on her skin before he kissed it.
“Your ears…”
“What of them?”
“I like the way they swirl up to a point. Like wings, or the sails on a ship.”
She lifted an eyebrow at him. “My people have a story that says the goddesses did that deliberately to tell your people apart from mine.”
“Is that the only difference between us?”
His off-hand remark made her stop and think. Were there other differences?
He gathered more soap mere and applied it to her hair. “You wash it,” he told her.
