“Of course.” He had already stripped off his jacket and cravat. And tonight, thank God, he had chosen to wear shoes, not boots.
“What do I do?” he asked.
“Bring the basin with soap and water and set in on the floor. I need to wash.”
He did as she bid and then looked at the pair of scissors, she handed him as if they were instruments of torture.
“You want me to cut them?”
She chuckled. “It’s easier for you to reach than me.”
“But what if—”
“You’re cutting away old, dirty bandages. I am much better now. I won’t break if you are gentle.”
He nodded. “I’ll be careful.”
She took a few moments to strip out of her dress. Another fine gown, this one blue silk with tiny yellow butterflies on it. She would miss this finery when they were done.
While he folded the dress and set it aside, she unbound her stays and lifted up her shift, though she didn’t remove it. Thiswas not a seduction. She needed new bandages before meeting the prince tomorrow.
“Ready?” he asked needlessly. He was seated on the floor with scissors in one hand. She said nothing, merely smiled as gratitude filled her.
Here was a future duke, a great mandarin of his people, about to tend to her abused feet. How had she found such fortune?
He cut away the bandages, carefully pulling them off her skin. She’d splinted her feet on three sides with flat pieces of wood which were now soft from her sweat and the world. He pulled those away gently, and she gasped at the sensation.
After so long wrapped, it was a wonder to feel something new. The heat of his hand, the brush of the air, and most especially the caress of his fingers. The sensations were exquisite, both too much and not enough.
“Is it painful?” he asked, worry in his tone.
“No,” she whispered as she bit her lip. “It’s wonderful.”
He understood then. They had explored each other’s bodies enough to know what was loved, what was too much, and what was sweet torture.
He cut away the bandages on her other foot and pulled away the wood. Then he gently set her feet into the basin of water. She had thought he would just watch them soak. That was all she meant to do. The gentle lap of the water was delightful enough. But sitting there on the floor, he washed her feet.
Gentle brushes with a cloth set her heart pounding. Then he scooped up water and sluiced it down her ankle all the way to her toes while she grew breathless with desire. But it was the way he watched her as he worked that made her intimate places throb. He looked up at her from the floor, and his eyes shone with delight every time she gasped.
He was teasing her on purpose, his fingers sensuous as they stroked along the arch of her foot. He even pinched her toes just to hear her cry out in hunger.
She had heard from some of the old women talk about this in China. This thing, this very erotic touch on their toes, was something she’d never understood until now.
“Max,” she finally said. “Please.”
He grinned as he gently dried her feet. “Should we bandage them first?”
She couldn’t wait. She pulled him down on top of her. She freed him of his clothing as he lifted up her shift. He didn’t take her like she wanted: in heat and need. He was too careful of her to do that without her feet being splinted. But he thrust deep while he held her knees up high. She was as open as she could ever be, and the feeling was perfection.
She climaxed quickly, but he drew it out. She writhed beneath him, and he remained strong. She was the wild thing, gloriously alive, while he was the man who kept her safe to be everything she could possibly want.
And tonight, she was his.
*
In the morning,Yihui realized two very difficult things.
The first was that they had not used a condom. The second was that it was not enough. Yihui was deeply in love with Max, and she wanted to be his forever.
