Dragon Lords Books 1 - 4 Box Set: Anniversary Edition (14 page)

“
G
ods’ bones
!”

Ualan stepped into the water pooled on his marble floor and slid across the soapy surface, nearly crashing into his couch trying to right himself. Water soaked into his muddy boots and he cursed.

“Rigan!”

Morrigan came running out of the kitchen. Seeing the dirt trail his sliding feet made, she cried out, “Oh, I just finished that. Look what you did!”

The look on her horrified face was priceless and did much to calm his irritation. Ualan carefully waded through the watery mess heading for drier ground. He was splattered with mud from head to foot. The soldiers had been practicing swordplay with his brother in the lower swamps near the borderlands. It had been great fun.

“Stop,” Morrigan yelled. “You’re getting it dirty.”

Ualan looked around at the puddle. Wryly, he said, “It is hardly clean.”

“You awful caveman. I spent all day on that floor.”

“All day?” He gave his home a doubtful look. It appeared as if she had spent nary a minute on it, but to dump water on the marble. He sniffed. Correction, but to dump hand soap and water on the marble.

“Ah!” Morrigan held out her hands. The palms looked red. “Look at my hands. I have been crawling around on them all day, trying to sweep that dirt with my apron. I swear someone should invent a tool to make it easier.”

Ualan tried not to laugh. Her apron was filthy, attesting to her words.

Thinking he didn’t believe her, she continued, “My back is on fire. My body aches. And you just sashay over my hard work like it’s nothing.”

“I don’t know what this
sashay
is, but I can determine by your expression it is meant to insult me.”

She lifted her skirt past her bruised knees. “See my knees are even killing me.

This time he did laugh a little while he took full advantage of the view she presented by lifting her skirts to prove a point. “I can’t see,” Ualan said with a dark, sensual dip to his words. “Lift it higher.”

Morrigan grimaced, dropping the skirt. She was obviously not impressed with him.

“Look what you did,” she commanded with a point. “Take off your boots.”

Ualan didn’t bother to look at her evidence against him. His anger had completely faded. She was just too earnest. He began to chuckle.

“Oh,” she mourned. “You’re probably going to blame your mess on me, aren’t you, caveman? And look at you. You’re filthy.”

“Spoken like a true wife,” he answered with a secretive smile. Her expression dropped.

“I am not your wife. I’m your slave, caveman. There is a huge difference.”

He remained quiet.

“Well at least to me there is,” she continued. Her wide eyes challenged him. “Here I bet you treat your wives like slaves.”

“Only when they deserve it.” His body was stretched with a good hard day of mock battling. That, and her beautiful face flushed red with anger, put him in a delightful mood. “And usually they are only made to be bed slaves. If you are interested, declare yourself my wife and then we can take turns being the master. I have some rope. I know how you like to be tied—”

“Caveman,” she warned. That single word stopped him from finishing the thought. She stomped away. Her hands flopped in the air as she walked trying to avoid the puddles of her hard work. “I don’t care what you do, I’m taking a shower. And I am not picking up after you, so you can just forget it. I don’t care if I have to sleep with a hundred soldiers so long as I get to lie down and do nothing.”

Ualan smiled, following her toward the bathing room. This was too much. For the moment, he didn’t care that his home was wrecked or that water was matting his expensive fur rugs. He could afford to buy a hundred more of them.

Ualan put one hand on the bathroom door when she would slam it shut. Morrigan glared at him. She tried in vain to push him out. His hand was enough to stop her progress. He stood, waiting for her to expend her energies.

He closed his eyes briefly. Already the sweet perfume of her desire filled his head. This was going to be the kind of torture even the most war-hardened warrior might not survive.

“That wasn’t an invitation, caveman,” she grumbled at last, giving up on trying to keep him out of the room by force.

“A slave never bathes before her lord,” Ualan said, stepping past her. Sitting on the edge of the natural hot spring, he tossed his dirty hair over his shoulder in challenge. Her lips parted, begging him unwittingly for his kisses. She had a mouth that deserved to be kissed and often. But she had started this game and he was going to be the one who finished it as the victor. “But, she does bathe her lord.”

It took a moment for his words to sink in. Morrigan shook her head and tried to run out the door. “Oh, no, you—”

Ualan caught her by the long tail of hair knotted at the base of her neck. She gasped in surprise at the suddenness of her capture. Frowning, he pulled her back to him gently. Morrigan huffed and mumbled under her breath about barbarians and cavemen, and beating them all over the heads with clubs.

Ualan moved her so she was standing in between his massive legs. Squeezing her into place with his thighs, he softly combed his fingers through her hair, unknotting it. Her hair spilled in waves down her shoulders like dark silk. Morrigan held very still, barely even breathing, as if she were afraid to move.

“Turn,” Ualan ordered, keeping his voice low. He wasn’t sure how he was going to keep this game up, only that he needed to try.

C
ursing herself the entire time
, Morrigan obeyed his command to face him. Her scalp tingled from how he’d stroked her hair. By the time he’d finished finger combing her locks, she’d been breathless. Turning around between his legs, she tried not to look at his face and failed. His eyes were level with her breasts and completely focused on them. Reaching over, he kept his gaze on her chest as he pushed the door closed, trapping her in. The gesture brought his dirty face closer, so close that his nose brushed dangerously close to a nipple. His thighs locked down tight as if she might try to escape. Morrigan didn’t think her legs could move, let alone aid in an escape.

Her hair framed her face now that it was down. She looked downward, thinking to hide behind its veil. The movement brought her eyes to his lap. The manly interest was right there in front of her.

“Undress me, slave,” he bid softly.

Morrigan was too enthralled to think. Her hands had been itching to explore him since the moment she saw his half-naked body standing in the bachelor line. Biting her lip, she carefully drew her hands to his shoulders. She trembled as she ran her fingers along his tunic. Her chest heaved with deepened breaths, drawing his steamy gaze back to her breasts.

“You’ll have to stand up,” Morrigan said, her voice huskier than she would have preferred. Ualan stood.

She was almost sorry she suggested it. He dominated the bathroom and everything in it, including her. Licking her lip where she had bit it, she reached to lift his tunic. She pulled it over his head with much effort. He refused to help, even when she struggled. Seeing his naked chest, she faltered. When his hands came back down, he purposefully grazed a breast with the back of his fingers. The nipple instantly exploded with awareness.

“Uh?” She looked at his pants, wondering how she should handle her current situation.

“The breeches, slave, or I will have to send you to the queen.”

Morrigan gave him a wry look. He didn’t have to sound like he was enjoying himself quite so much. She lost her voice as she slid her fingers down his skin, flesh that had dried with the sweat and dirt of his exercise. Reaching side laces that bound the breeches to his waist, she tugged them loose but didn’t push the material down off his hips.

“Your boots,” Morrigan whispered, doing her best not to examine his delectable body, and failing miserably. Ualan kicked the boots off his feet, followed by his socks. Blushing, she turned her eyes away and quickly shoved the black material of his pants to his ankles, pulling them forward so as not to snag the waistband on his cock. Refusing to look, she stepped away. “There. All done. I’ll just get going now.”

“You will bathe me, slave.” Ualan stepped forward, running his hand over a panel on the wall. Instantly, water cascaded down the rocks in the shower, forming a pool at the bottom. He stepped into the water, proud and unashamed of his taut nakedness.

When she did not readily obey, he glanced at her. She shivered, automatically drawing her arms up to cross over her stomach.

“Come and rinse, the water is warm.” He laid his hands against the rock wall beneath the falling torrent and rested his neck forward to let the currents of warm liquid glide over his head.

Morrigan looked warily at his back, refusing to take off her uniform as she stepped into the waterfall shower. Every inch of him looked carved of stone, a thick gladiator body of hard muscle and tight bronzed flesh slick with moisture. The gold band on his arm glistened in the light from above.

Reaching to his arm, she gently pulled the bracelet from his biceps and set it behind her on the floor. She noticed that his skin was the same color beneath the bracelet indicating he probably didn’t always wear it, but had maybe forgot to take it off after the ceremony. He lifted his arm back to the wall, rolling his head on his shoulders, and letting water fall and run out of his mouth.

“Soap?” Her voice was rough with the effort it took for her to speak.

Ualan smiled. Motioning his head, he nodded to the side. Morrigan blushed, seeing the bottle sitting in plain view.

She grabbed it and lathered up her hands. Gingerly, she began to scrub him, running her fingers over his rigid back and shoulders. Ualan groaned as she rubbed at his neck, easing the tension from him with her fingers. The soaked skirt of her gown slapped the back of his legs as she worked.

Her soapy hands continued to tentatively move over his form, touching, squeezing, and unconsciously testing the firmness of his body. Already she had a hard time breathing and she’d only reached his back. When her soapy fingers found his hips he gave a little jerk, but didn’t make her stop. She continued down his ass and legs.

Morrigan was enchanted by the texture of his skin. The look of him heated her blood. Her lips parted, fascinated with the idea of tasting him. He didn’t move to encourage her and so she held back. She had to remember this was a chore, not a pleasure.

But, oh, was it pleasurable!

By the time Morrigan worked her way back up, her fingers turned from scrubbing to caressing. They glided over him in long strokes, reaching over his legs and buttocks, up his sides, and along his arms. She couldn’t reach his hands without dipping around to the front and soaking her gown completely.

Without thought, she followed her restless fingers to his chest, blocking the water from him with her back. It soaked her clothes and hair, plastering the velvet locks to her shoulders. Ualan’s eyes bore into her as she worked over his arms and neck. The wet material clung seductively to her skin.

Timidly, she met his gaze and was captured by it. Her breathing deepened. She forgot who he was, where she was. All that mattered was the way he was eyeing her and the aching heat it created in her sex.

The wet gown became unbearably heavy as it pressed into her skin. Keeping her gaze steadily on his bold, blue eyes, she slowly circled her administrating hands lower on his stomach. The muscles tensed beneath her fingers, but he didn’t stop her. She slid her hands to his hips, begging him silently with a gentle pull to press forward. Morrigan wanted him to trap her to the rough stone with his marble body. The strong muscles of his arms could easily hold her weight if he was to lift her up. Her breasts arched, the warm water rushing tantalizingly over them, the rough material clinging to the heated points.

Having already gotten his legs, there was only one place left. She didn’t look, but could feel the heat radiating near her centering hands. His eyes narrowed into concentrated slits, daring her to go on. She slowly grasped her fingers around his long, awaiting erection. The size startled her and she pulled back. Had he been that size in the tent? Why hadn’t she remembered that very important detail?

“Done,” Morrigan said, the feeble sound barely whispered above the noise of the water. She still blocked the water, so sudsy trails still lingered on his flesh.

“You’re dirty,” Ualan answered. His devouring eyes did not look away, nor did they appear to want to. “Remove that dress and wash.”

“You said that we…that slaves…” Her face reddened.

“Wash for me,” Ualan ordered. He growled low in his throat like a beast waiting on his prey. He inched slightly closer and stated in a tone that was both commanding and exhilarating, “Remove your gown.”

Morrigan started to move toward the side to obey. He lowered his hands on the rocks, trapping her.

“Here,” he commanded softly, his tone ragged with promise. “Undress for me here.”

Morrigan trembled, but she couldn’t deny the look in his eyes. Reaching to her apron ties along her back, she drew the soaked material from around her waist. She leaned near him to toss it behind his back. It landed with a splat on the floor. His eyes glanced meaningfully down to the gown, waiting.

She struggled a little with the wet laces at her shoulder. It was difficult to wiggle free when the material kept clinging to her naked flesh. He didn’t move to help her. Finally, after much effort, she lifted the gown over her head to reveal the naked length of her body beneath. She tossed it in the same direction as the apron.

Morrigan shyly dipped her eyes before glancing up to see his reaction to her. She wasn’t disappointed. His molten gaze moved to take in every inch of her body. The water coursed down her overheated skin, but did not cool her rising temperature.

When he had looked his fill, he leaned slowly closer. His chest rose and fell in hard, fast breaths. Hoarsely, he ordered, “Wash.”

Morrigan blindly reached for the soap on the ledge. Taking some in her palm, she lathered her fingers. Gradually, she worked over her arms and shoulders. He devoured her every move with his hot gaze, feasting on the show she presented. Next, she scrubbed her face, leaning back to rinse it. When she could again open her eyes, Ualan nodded down to her breasts. His lips parted and she saw his tongue lingering just beyond the inner rim of his mouth.