“Start again,” he drawls. “And this time just use your pretty little hands. I want to feel them all over my body.”
15
VALEN
The Princess doesn’t know what to make of me—a big, naked male— demanding that she wash me all over. To be honest, if you’d asked me before, I would have said I prefer to wash myself. But it’s fucking satisfying to see the hot blush creep up her cheeks as she lathers the soap in her hands and reaches for me.
She starts with my face this time, scrubbing me vigorously and being what I suppose she thinks is “rough.” I don’t mind, however. I simply keep my eyes closed and revel in the sensation of getting clean. That fucking dungeon her brother locked me in was dirty and damp and he certainly never came down to wash me. I haven’t bathed in almost a year, so this feels really good.
Irena washes my chest and shoulders and arms too—I’ll give her one thing, she’s fucking thorough. She scrubs hard, getting all the brown dust off of me. The water gets so dirty she has to drain it twice. I just lay there and let her tend to me. It’s been a long time since I’ve had a woman’s hands on me and she’s fucking gorgeous—even if she does hate me.
She works her way down my body, avoiding “certain areas” until at last, the only thing on me that’s still dirty is my shaft. I don’t mind admitting, it’s been hard since the minute she started touching me with her soft little hands. Neither of us is saying anything about it but it’s standing up between my thighs stiff as a flagpole, as though demanding attention.
“There.” She sits back at last, wiping her hands on a rough bit of towel. “There—you’re all clean.”
“Not quite all of me,” I point out, nodding at my cock.
She goes red, her cheeks heating with shame or outrage or perhaps a combination of both. But under all that, I can smell her heat. She might tell herself she doesn’t like touching me, but her body tells a different story.
“Come on, Princess,” I growl softly. “You know it must be done. I’m not living the rest of my life with poison all over my cock.”
I normally wouldn’t force a woman to do something she doesn’t want to, but this is different—as long as I wear this fucking collar and she wears the ring, Princess Irena is the only one who can clean me. And I’ll be damned if I let myself be poisoned because she’s prudish.
“I can’t…I won’t…I’ve never touched a man’s forbidden areas before!” she protests.
I narrow my eyes at her.
“Well now you will. Or I won’t go a single step further towards helping you get to the Sorceress.”
Then I wait to hear what she has to say to that.
16
IRENA
I don’t like this situation a bit—how is it that I have the ring of power yet the big brute in the tub seems to be somehow in control? Surely that’s not right—is it?
But it seems that I have no choice. His shaft rises from between his thighs, thick as a club, and somehow I am now in the position of having to wash it.
Never would I have dreamed of such a thing. Even if I were to get married, my husband would never demand such a thing of me. I would never handle his male parts—he would only put them inside me when we were ready to have a child. That’s what I have been told, anyway.
And while I can’t deny I found washing Valen’s big, muscular body interesting, that doesn’t mean I want to do perverted things with him.
Does it?
“Your problem, Princess, is you’re too much of a prude,” he drawls, giving me that lazy, mocking grin again. “This is just a part of my body—like any other. It needs to be cleaned, just like you cleaned the rest of me. So fucking do it.”
I feel anger clench like a fist inside me.
“Fine,” I snap. “I’ll do it!”
I rub the soap between my hands vigorously until I form quite a lather. Then I reach into the tub.
But just before I’m about to grip the thick pole of flesh in my fist, Valen grabs me by the wrist.
“Wait just a minute, Princess,” he growls and his eyes have narrowed suspiciously.
“What is it? I told you never to touch me!” I say, but his grip doesn’t loosen.
