Chapter Eleven

 

 

The next day was filled with activity. Women fluttered around me like birds, squawking about fabric and flowers and jewelry. My mother serenely directed it all as I stood in the eye of the flock. I just held my arms out and let them do as they pleased.

By the time they all finally left, it was time for me to start getting ready for dinner. But first, I had to bathe Hugin. I headed to the door set within the right wall. But before I even touched the handle, there was a knock on the door set into the back wall, on the right. It was only a few feet away, so it took me mere seconds to reach it. I opened it to find Arnet standing there.

“Hugin traded places with me,” Arnet gave me a hesitant smile.

“What?” I felt my stomach drop. Did Hugin decide he didn't want me anymore? After the romantic night we'd spent together?

“Stop that,” Arnet took my hand. “Hugin told us what happened with you in the garden, and what you promised him. He felt it wasn't fair for him to take any more from you when there were two of us who had yet to have the... uh... opportunity to be alone with you.”

I just stared at him.

“If you'd rather go to Hugin, I understand,” Arnet said stiffly and dropped his hand.

“No,” I reached for him. “I'm sorry. You just surprised me. Of course I'd be happy to see to your...” the breath hitched in my throat as I imagined Arnet getting into the tub. He was still clothed, which meant I would have to undress him.

“Bath,” he finished my sentence with a smile and a whisper. “Then come down with me, Adelysia.”

Arnet took my hand and helped me down the stairs, then into his room, shutting the door firmly behind us. There was a wood tub waiting before the fireplace, full of steaming water. Towels and soap were laid on a stool beside it, a discarded bucket at one end, and yet another wood stool had a crystal bottle placed upon it. Something which looked much too feminine to be in Arnet's room. I frowned at the bottle, but then forgot about it completely as Arnet led me forward towards the tub. Suddenly, he stopped and started stroking my hair. He must have noticed my hesitation.

“Why don't we try something different?” Arnet asked.

“What?” my breath was already ragged, my mind focused on what it would be like to undress him. I was afraid I would disgrace myself and touch him inappropriately. I couldn't behave like this; they would think I wasn't a maiden.

“Will you allow me to wash your hair?”

“My hair?” I hesitantly touched the braids of my elaborate coiffure.

“Yes,” Arnet grinned. “May I?”

“Uh... yes, I suppose,” I swallowed with a mixture of relief and disappointment. I had expected Arnet to be more aggressive, as his personality had hinted. I had expected him to-

“Come here,” the words were said with just the hint of command, and I felt myself smile. Now that was the man I'd come to know. Arnet led me to the bed and eased me down, to lie on the mattress. I felt my eyes widen with worry, but he only placed a chaste kiss to my lips as he angled me so that my head was hanging at the edge, facing up. “Relax, Adelysia.”

“You can call me Addy, you know,” I whispered.

“Addy,” Arnet smiled and went to fetch a stool, the crystal bottle, and a comb.

He placed the bottle on the floor, then set the stool before me and sat, so that my head was practically in his lap. Then he began to carefully undo my braids. Arnet sighed as he ran his thick fingers through the long lengths of my hair, smoothing out the ripples the braids had left. I was shocked at how gentle he could be.

When he had all of my braids undone, I began to sigh too. The weight of my hair was held in Arnet's lap, and his expert fingers began to rub over my scalp. He had large, strong, calloused hands, and they gave the best massage, firmly kneading away the tension I didn't even know was there. Then he started to comb my hair. I barely felt a single pull; he was so careful. I found myself closing my eyes to enjoy the sensations better.

When Arnet stood, he placed another sweet kiss on my lips, and my eyes flashed open to watch him. He went to the tub and filled the abandoned bucket with warm water. Arnet brought the bucket of water to the bed, placed it beneath my head, and draped my hair into the water. Then he went to gather soap and a cup. He brought them back and settled onto the stool once more.

And then Arnet washed my hair.

I can't tell you how blissful it was, draped over the bed fully dressed, while Arnet poured warm water through my hair. He massaged in the soap and then rinsed. Over and over, he worked the water through my locks until my hair was as clean as possible. He wrung the water from my hair, and put the bucket aside so that he could grab a towel. Arnet gently toweled my hair dry, finally placing the cloth on the floor, for my hair to rest on. Then he picked up the crystal bottle.

I eyed it. There was a pale gold liquid inside.

“What's that?”

“A gift for you,” Arnet took the crystal cork out and held it beneath my nose. “Rose oil.”

I inhaled and smiled in delight. Rose oil was the most expensive perfume you could buy. It took so many flowers to make just the barest amount. I had no idea how Arnet could afford it. It was a gift a prince would bring me, not a huntsman.

“Thank you,” I said, “but how-”

“Shh,” he whispered in my ear. “Just enjoy it.”

Arnet poured a small amount of oil into his hands and rubbed his palms together. Then he took thin lengths of my hair and began to twine them around his fingers, curling them patiently. I cast a look back at him and saw his contented gaze. Arnet loved this, just touching my hair, and watching how it fell into spirals. He stroked and formed my hair to his liking until it was dry and curling gloriously.

I sat up, stroked my hands over the fragrant mass of it, and turned to face him, “Thank you.”

“It was my pleasure,” Arnet stroked a finger down the curve of my cheek, to my neck, where my pulse was beating wildly. How could I have been so excited from a man washing my hair? “May I have a kiss for my efforts?”

Arnet leaned forward, without waiting for my answer, but I nodded anyway. I eagerly fit my lips to his and delighted in the delicious moans vibrating from his mouth to mine. My hands went to his wide chest, and he took it as encouragement, sliding his arms around my waist to pull me onto his lap. My legs spread around his hips and my skirts rode up. I didn't care, I wrapped my arms around his massive chest and pulled him tight to me. He growled into our kiss, forcing my mouth wider and filling it with his demanding tongue. Arnet's lips were thinner than Hugin's, firmer, but I liked the harsh slash of them just as much as I'd enjoyed Hugin's softness.

Then one of Arnet's hands flattened on my back, and the other slid up my belly, over my breasts, to spread over my sternum. He pushed me back without breaking the kiss, holding me securely so I wouldn't fall. I felt the mattress hit me at mid-back and laid my head upon it. Arnet left my mouth to trail kisses down my neck. But then he sat up and looked me over possessively.

“God you're beautiful,” he growled. “Tell me you want me, Addy.”

“I do,” I agreed immediately, “I want you.”

“Good,” Arnet smiled like a predator. “Pull your skirts up higher then.”

“I... what?” I blinked at him in shock.

“Do it,” he growled and bared his teeth at me.

My heart sped up as I gathered my skirts and pulled them up my thighs. Arnet pushed my chemise up too, and moved my hands around the gathered material, closing my fingers into fists so I would hold the skirts up. My thighs were on display for him, three more inches and my womanhood would be bare too. But Arnet didn't touch me there. Instead, he pulled the edge of my bodice down with one hand, and scooped up my breasts with the other, bringing them both halfway out of the restricting material. I gasped as he gazed on my nipples, jutting up over the edge of my bodice. Then he lowered his mouth to one.

“Arnet,” I whispered as I held his head to me. I couldn't believe I was allowing him such liberties, but I didn't want him to stop either.

Arnet licked and bit at each breast, going back and forth between them. Then finally, he pushed them tight together and took both hard nipples into his mouth. He groaned and sucked harder, then bit his way around the exposed flesh till it was pink from his passion.

“Such gorgeous tits,” his voice was a deep rumble as he pulled away. “Sweet enough to make any man want to drop to his knees and worship them.”

Then his strong hands went to my thighs, looking so much darker against my pale skin. Arnet rubbed me gently, then pushed his hands upward, under the gathered material, and eased his fingertips along the base of my hips. He was so close. He slipped them closer, closer, just grazing the curls covering me. I saw his jaw clench, the thick muscles in his arms twitch as he wove his fingers through my curls. Then Arnet pressed a single fingertip into the tender flesh, right above the place I suddenly wanted him.

I shifted, trying to get him to delve further, but he just dug more fingers into me and held me still. Arnet's breathing was coming faster, and his green eyes had darkened to something more sinister. His slid his hands up to my waist abruptly and jerked me against him. I could feel his shaft, a hard, thick rod pressing through his breeches and into my womanhood. I gasped, pulling him even closer as I rubbed myself against him. The sensations were dizzying. I wanted more. Needed more. Arnet groaned and shuddered, then pulled away. With a Herculean effort, he lifted me from his lap and placed me on my feet.

“Run, Addy,” Arnet ground out.

“But-”

“Run!” he shouted.

I ran for the door, risking a glance over my shoulder as I reached it. Arnet was bent over the bed; his forehead pressed into the exact spot I had laid upon. One of his arms spread out along the bed, hand grasping at the blankets as if he were falling. Arnet's other hand was between his legs, inside his breeches, working at himself furiously. I inhaled sharply, turned, and fled up the stairs into the safety of my room. But the sight of him would haunt me through the night.