A bit uneasy at having shared such personal feelings with the very man who was the subject of them, Alissende tried to avoid meeting his gaze, though she felt his on her, warm and steady. Instead, she concentrated on dressing his remaining injuries, applying poultices to the bruises on his legs, stitching the cut on his ribs and wrapping it tightly with a bandage around his middle, after first placing another poultice-soaked pad atop the wound for protection.
He grunted once, when she pulled a bit too hard on the dressing as she tightened it, but other than that, she noticed precious little reaction from him in the minutes after she stopped speaking…
Until she helped ease him to his back, once all the bandaging was done, and she happened to glance down, toward his waist. Then she perceived a reaction all right, only it wasn’t one in words. Nay, this was an entirely physical, very male response to her recent ministrations.
Alissende felt her cheeks heat with that seemingly ever-present blush as she struggled to look anywhere but at the stiff and enormous swelling that pushed up from beneath his braies. Damien had not allowed much in the way of her touch upon him these past few days, concentrating the time of their sensual interludes on his reexploration of her body. But she enjoyed this aspect of him. Ah, yes, she enjoyed it well. She would never forget her shock and amazement that first time, when as an innocent virgin she had seen this tangible and very impressive proof of his desire for her.
The yearning to touch him there right now nearly overwhelmed her, but she resisted, thinking that perhaps such an action might not be the most tactful or understanding one to take, considering that he was likely still in a good bit of pain from the effects of his wounds.
Desperate to resolve the problem in some way, she reached for the linen sheet and threw it over him up to his waist, preparing to stand and move away, to put away her pots of salve and tinctures. His strangled laugh made her go still, and she snapped her gaze to him again, feeling more than a little belligerent and ready to put him in his place, if such was needed.
His eyes twinkled in response to her glare, and she almost let loose a sharp comment, until she glanced down once more at her handiwork with the sheet. And then she saw that it wasn’therhe was laughing at, at all.
The effect of the sheet over the rigid, protruding length of his erection appeared ludicrous, to say the least. The cloth meant to conceal him had done naught except to create the illusion of something that looked like a miniature tent, with fabric draped over a massive center pole.
“There’s no covering him, methinks,” Damien commented wryly. “As always, he seems to have a mind of his own where you are concerned.”
“Oh, I…I suppose I could—that is, I—”
Alissende’s cheeks felt like they might ignite to flames as she stuttered and tried to keep herself from dissolving into a fit of choked giggles.
“There is only one help for it,” Damien sighed, still with that humorous lilt in his voice. But keeping his gaze locked to her face, he raised his brow and tilted his head slightly in concession as he added, “Well, perhaps two or three. But I assure you that the first is infinitely more enjoyable than the others.”
Alissende had caught her breath by this point, and she boldly offered, “I believe I know of the first to which you refer, but pray tell, what are the others?”
“An icy bath, for one.” Damien’s face was expressionless, all but for that glint of fire in his eyes. “That might prove difficult, however, as chilled water is in short supply in midsummer, not to mention the fact that it is rather messy to use upon an invalid. It soaks the mattress along with the man, you see.”
She arched her brow back at him, finding that she was rather enjoying this. “You are an invalid now, are you?”
“Aye, lady. I find my injuries have rendered me motionless.” The heat in his eyes flared again, and the edge of his mouth curved up wickedly. “I am completely at your mercy.”
“Hmmmm…” she mused, placing her finger to her lips in an exaggerated pose of deep thought, though in truth the idea of being in control in this way was strangely thrilling. “What to do with such powers?…”
She gave him a look meant to approximate a sudden idea striking. “I know! I shall begin with this—”
She moved the sheet so that she might grasp the string that kept the front of his braies closed, loosening it and undoing the laces, while all the time being very careful not to make contact with any part of Damien’s body, even through the fabric. She glanced up at him, almost losing her nerve to continue when she saw the searing look in his eyes. The muscles of his stomach tightened with a delicious ripple as she completed the task, but still he did not speak or make any sound other than the shallow, even breaths he took.
“Let me see,” she murmured, “I believe that I should follow up that action with this—”
Her voice was husky with the desire building inside her as well, as she reached to the gaping edges of his braies and tugged them open further. Then she deftly pulled them down over his hips, allowing his erection to spring free, so that its hard, plum-capped length bobbed with the motion. Though she still did not touch him, she could not keep her eyes from widening at the glorious sight of him, denied her for so long, and her breath came out on an appreciative sigh.
In response, Damien’s lips curved again, this time in a self-satisfied way, and she felt a flare of irritation for having revealed so much of her thoughts. Ah, well. She knew how to shift control back into her own hands. Quite literally, in fact.
“Now, then…” she said, letting her voice drift off with her own teasing lilt, “I wonder what would happen if I didthis—”
At that she brushed her open palm gently but firmly up his straining, swollen length, feeling a burst of satisfaction when he closed his eyes and sucked in his breath at the pleasure of her touch upon him.
But it wasn’t enough yet.
Resting her hand gently over the length of him, she did not move. Nay, not so much as a finger, until his eyes snapped open. Then she met his gaze and asked sweetly, “Am I doing well so far, Damien, in helping you?”
“Aye, lady.” His expression looked almost pained. “Very well—though I do not think it would be amiss if you would deign to continue your…assistance.”
If his voice had sounded strangled before, it now sounded positively choked.
Offering him a brilliant smile, she answered, “Oh. Do you mean, perhaps, that I should do this?” In saying so, she grasped his erection fully in her hand and stroked upward, repeating the motion with a sure, firm caress, and unleashing from him at last a low groan that was rife with combined agony and ecstasy. Music to her ears.
The sound, the sight, and delicious feel of him writhing in pleasure beneath her touch spurred Alissende on; she continued stroking him, loving him with her hands and murmuring soft endearments as she brought him closer and closer to the edge of completion.
