“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.
