He wanted her to find him attractive, was anxious about it. Which made him seem so normal, vulnerable even, which in turn made her soften toward him.
Before she could think better of it, she cupped his cheek. With undisguised admiration, she murmured, "I don't know what muster is, but you pass it like crazy, big guy."
Now he glanced up. They gazed at each other for long moments. Was she so superficial that his ultimate reveal made him that much more sympathetic to her?
Well, it didn't hurt.
Yet she was also intrigued by his calmness and his cooperation, the steady clarity of his blue eyes. No longer were they black with bloodlust or rage. This demon was trusting her, and she responded to that.
Just then, a trickle of soapy water ran into his eye. His gaze still locked on her face, he didn't even blink.
"Oh, demon! Here." She pressed a dry cloth to it. "Sorry about that."
She almost didn't notice him reaching a shaking hand toward her br**sts until too late, but she swiftly backed away. "Ah-ah, we're only halfway done."
Carrow knew she played a dangerous game. Tonight, she intended to release a little of his steam - to show him what he was getting out of their deal. She was ready to pay the piper but had only budgeted so much from her pocketbook. Could he restrain himself?
If not, she believed she had enough power to do a shocker spell on him. She hoped.
In any event, he needed to be clean. Since she'd be rooming with him, she'd tidy him up, just as she had his lair. She was determined to wash every inch of his big body, humming "at the car wash" while soaping him up from tires to grille.
With that plan in mind, she unzipped her skirt, letting it fall to her ankles. Wearing only her halter, bra, and thong, she stepped into the now knee-deep water.
Once she faced him again, he looked dumbstruck, running his hand over his mouth.
When she beckoned to him with a grin, he glanced over both shoulders. Then he hiked a thumb at himself with his cleft chin proudly raised.
And Carrow thought, I think I just fell into like with him.
Chapter 16
Malkom was dazed at the sight of the pert, flawless backside she'd just casually revealed to him.
A reward for his patience? Earlier as she'd unplaited his hair, she'd been in high spirits about the prospect of shaving and shearing him. While he couldn't have been more ill at ease.
After all this time, having anyone near him had been strange, much less this female who so effortlessly undermined his control, with her br**sts swaying directly before his eyes.
Plus, the water had been mere inches from him.
Yet he'd battled for control of himself, because for some reason, her task had been important to her.
For his troubles, she'd gifted him with that view of her backside.
Now he yearned to touch those pale curves, but she'd removed herself into the water. There, she mimicked that she would wash him, too. He hadn't agreed to this for himself. Yet look how he'd been rewarded for his cooperation so far! With her removing clothing and offering to clean him.
Her hands on him. Water on him.
He would smell like the vampires he'd hated. But shewould like him better. To be close to her, could he enter the pool that continued to deepen?
He'd have to undress. When he removed his cuffs, she would see the bite scars, possibly recognizing the marks of a blood slave. The idea filled him with embarrassment.
Let alone stripping completely. 'Twas one thing for other males to see him naked. But a woman? He figured that in all his years a female or two must have - but he'd never known about it, and he surely hadn't volunteered any glimpses of his body.
This one seemed to like the look of his countenance, gazing at him with unhidden approval, which mystified him. Perhaps she could be attracted to his body.
Would she undress completely? Show him those br**sts he wanted to lick? Remove the silk triangle that covered her sex?
He pointed at her top, then made a couple of "uick motions with his fingers.
With a breathless smile, she teased it up so slowly, displaying pink silk, wetted and clinging to her curves. The lace revealed more than it concealed.
His lips parted. The gods amused themselves with Malkom, giving him such a fine female.
Or could she be his justly earned reward ... ?
For an extraordinary, fleeting moment, he actually felt like the luckiest male alive.
When Carrow drew off her halter, the demon's gaze was searing on her, as palpable as a touch. Brows drawn as if in pain, he gave a low growl and absently palmed the rigid outline of his shaft.
Snagging the shampoo and soap, she beckoned him again with a curled forefinger. But he began pacing back and forth at the edge of the pool. She could see his expressions even more distinctly now, could see sweat beading his upper lip. Realization struck. He was afraid of getting in the water.
His phobia made sense. When would he ever have learned to swim or grow accustomed to large amounts of water?
"Okay, I guess I'll enjoy this all by myself." With just her undergarments on, she waded to the deeper center, dipping below the surface to soak herself completely. She made a big show of lathering her hair, giving a moan here and there as if her military generic shampoo were as orgasmic as a bottle of Herbal Essences.
More prowling.
Once she'd gotten the tangles out of her own hair, she meandered over to one of the still trickling ceiling streams to rinse the shampoo away. When she raised her face to the water and ran her hands over her belly and thighs, she picked up a riot of different emotions from him. One of which was ... awe.
He gazed at her like he might have looked at his last sunrise.
At last, he trudged to the edge. She eagerly met him there, grasping one of his arms to draw free the laces on his leather cuffs. But that wary cast to his eyes returned. Again she thought, Thorn from a lion's paw. "Trust me, demon."
But he couldn't trust her. Ultimately, she was going to betray him. Don't think about it, just enjoy this time.
After removing the second cuff, she frowned. The skin on his wrists was marred with bite scars. Vampire bites.
For Loreans, scars only formed before immortality was reached in adulthood. And Carrow knew that sick Horde vampires enjoyed the blood of the young, thought it sweeter.
Had Slaine been a blood slave as a child?
She traced her forefinger over the marks. He wouldn't meet her eyes, and she knew. They'd kept him for blood at some time before he'd fully matured. No wonder he was violent.
Was that why he'd negotiated with her, when probably no other male in this entire realm would have? Because he'd known what it felt like to be powerless?
At that moment, she hated the faceless vampire, or vampires, who'd hurt him, and she felt sympathy for the boy he'd been.