In any case, she was happy he was still out cold when she arrived in his room with the clothes and a basin, which she filled with warm water. She washed his face first, running the warm cloth over it and wondering what he looked like under his thick beard. She already knew his eyes were light gray and she could see his nose was long and straight, but the red beard and his tangled lion’s mane of a hair-do pretty much hid every other feature.
Next she added soap to the water in the basin, before dipping the towel in again and running it over his chest, doing her best not to admire the hard muscles she felt underneath her cloth. Whatever this guy did for a living wherever he was from, it had gifted him with a beautiful body. She had to put some effort into lifting his arms, which were so thick with muscle that getting underneath them in order to wash his arm pits was a bit of a challenge.
Somewhat out of breath, she emptied out the water and refilled it with a fresh batch of warm, soapy water. Now she had to do his bottom half.
Once again she had to put a lot of effort into getting him clean. First she had to tug off his pants, which didn’t have any fasteners on them, so she had to roll them down his hips—quickly averting her eyes when she saw he wasn’t wearing any underwear underneath. She kept her eyes averted, washing around his groin area as best she could without actually looking at it. Still that didn’t keep her heart from just about jumping out of her chest when something long and thick thumped against her arm, like a baton of flesh-covered steel.
Her eyes flew to the maybe-Viking to see if he was awake, but he slept on, apparently unaware of what the lower half of his body was up to.
Chloe finished up with that particular area as quickly as she could, her head turned away, then tugged the underwear and basketball shorts on him—no small feat but worth it if it meant covering up his sleeping erection. She wished she also cover up his chest, but he was chained to the bed, which meant she wouldn’t be able to get his arms through it. So she just put that item on the bedside table, and replaced the now cold water in the bowl.
A few minutes later, she silently cheered when she reached his long and wide feet, giving each a few quick swipes with her towel. All done, and now she could just tip-toe on out of the room, without the maybe-Viking never even knowing she was there.
But then, suddenly, that same skittery feeling from the day before overtook her and her stomach sank. Sure enough, when she looked up, she found the Viking wide-awake and staring at her with enough heat in his eyes to melt all the snow on the nearby mountain.
FENRIS CAME AWAKE SLOWLY BLINKING against the bright light. His body was still heavy with whatever potion he had been given, but for some reason, his manhood was now swollen and constricted in some manner of binding he did not know. Despite this, soft waves of languid pleasure were coursing through his body, starting at his legs.
He turned his eyes in the direction of the pleasurable sensation and found his fated mate, the dark beauty from the day before, giving him, of all things, a bath.
She was once again dressed in a strange costume, some manner of wool tunic top, dyed a pale blue that covered her neck and arms but squeezed her chest in such a way that left little doubt a heavy bosom rested beneath it’s confines. In his land, it was forbidden for both she-wolves and human woman to wear the clothing of men. But her legs were encased in tight black men’s trousers that framed her shapely hips and made him want to rut her where she stood, even if he could smell that she hadn’t yet had her first heat. A strange notion within itself, since she had quite obviously come into her womanhood.
On this day, she wore her bushy hair tied to the side in a long braid that fell all the way to her bounteous breasts. He reached out to touch it, so different from his own, but then he remembered anew that he had been tied to the railing of a strange, mechanical bed with some manner of metal, which somehow held him fast despite it’s light and thin nature.
He once again rattled the bed in a bid to free himself.
But the dark beauty shook her head, frantically speaking to him in her strange dialect, before coming around the bed and laying her hands on his chest.
Her touch immediately calmed him, and soon he found himself falling back against the bed’s soft pillows, his desire to be free of his bonds replaced with the desire to gaze upon her great beauty.
She tried to pull away from him then, but he covered her hands with his own, keeping her there.
“Nay, stay here, maiden,” he said, even though he had gleaned by now that she could not understand his tongue any better than he understood hers.
“Stay here,” he repeated in a whisper, gazing into her wary brown eyes, as he allowed himself to absorb the warmth of her hands on his naked chest, and enjoy the sight of her own chest heaving up and down with quickened breaths.
Then he leaned forward and took the kiss he had been wanting from her since first their eyes met.
For a moment she acquiesced to his kiss, but then she suddenly pulled away, her face aghast as she said something else in her tongue and tried to reclaim her hands from his.
He did not let go at first, and perhaps would have kept her there for a few more sweet kisses, except he suddenly smelled another presence in the room. His smile faded when he looked up and found the wolf from yesterday standing in the doorway. The same wolf who had dared touch what was his.
FOR WHAT HAD TO BE at least the tenth time that day, Chloe cursed the fates that had brought her to this situation. When the maybe-Viking had started rattling the bed again in his attempt to get out of the handcuffs, she had placed her hands on his chest more out of instinct than plan.
“Stop. You’ve got to calm down,” she’d said. To her surprise he’d obeyed her command, instantly calming down, the expression on his face replaced by a look so soft, it sent an unbidden jolt of electricity through her stomach. One she didn’t like at all.
She tried to pull her hands away, but he kept her there, speaking softly in his strange language with a smile that crinkled his eyes and made him look way more handsome than she’d thought he was while she was bathing him.
And then the next thing she knew, he was kissing her. She’d been so surprised by the feel of his lips moving over hers and by the complete lack of heebie-jeebies on her part, that she just froze, all of her senses momentarily overwhelmed.
But then she remembered herself and pulled away from him. “Let go,” she said.
He didn’t, only gripped her hands tighter. But then his eyes hardened as he gazed at something beyond her shoulder. Even if her sense of smell hadn’t chosen that moment to come back online, she would have known just from the look on his face it was Rafe standing in the doorway.