Bride of the Sea (The Prophecy of Sisters #2) - Hayley Faiman Page 0,88
slightly, then to a standing position.
“Are Runa and Hillevi here?” I ask as I make my way over toward a small trunk that was brought in sometime after I fell asleep.
Aaric grunts. “They are. We eat, then prepare for battle.”
My eyes widen as I flip the lid of the trunk open. Turning to look back over my shoulder, I blink at him. “Battle? Prepare?” I breathe.
He nods his head, his eyes focused on my bare ass. I almost laugh, but I’m way too focused on his words and what that means.
“Sacrifices?” I ask.
Aaric grunts. “Sacrifices and rituals.”
“What kind?”
He shakes his head once. “It matters not. Though, due to your demands, I have no slaves to prepare my paint and hair.”
“Paint and hair?” I ask as I turn around to face him.
He doesn’t even pretend to hide the way his eyes dip down and he focuses on my bare breasts. I really should have slipped something on to sleep in, but being pressed skin against skin, was the best feeling in the world.
“We paint our bodies for war. Also, my hair must be braided so that it does not impede my vision.”
“I can braid,” I blurt out.
He arches a brow. “I’m the oldest girl of four, Aaric. I had three little live dolls to practice on my whole life.” I grin.
Aaric takes a step toward me. He lifts his hand, cupping my cheek as his gaze moves around my own. “You’ll braid and paint me before I go into battle then, víf.”
“I will,” I hum.
“Dress before I take you again,” he grunts.
Grinning, I take a step back, then turn away from him to gather my dress. “Don’t leave, I need your help with my dress. This one has buttons,” I call out.
“If you had a slave…”
Rolling my eyes to the ceiling, I let out a grunt. “No slaves, Aaric.”
“Except you expect me to be that for you, do you not?”
Spinning around, my fabric held to my chest, I gasp. “How dare you. Never, not ever would or could I think that about you.”
He laughs softly taking a couple of steps toward me. He reaches out, wrapping his hands around my waist before he pulls me against his chest. Dipping his chin, his lips brush against my own.
“I like it, Liv. Except I cannot do your makeup and hair. But dressing you, bathing you, those are things that I can and do enjoy doing for you.”
Pressing my lips together, I tilt my head back as I look up into his smiling blue eyes. “I like it too,” I admit.
He throws back his head in laughter. “It is settled then. We’ll be one another’s personal slaves?”
“God, yes,” I moan.
It takes longer than it should for me to get ready, mainly because instead of getting dressed, Aaric takes me again. Maybe I should say that, I take him. Straddling his hips, I sink down along his length and I ride him, freely, and hard. I take and I take and I take until we both find our release.
It’s beautiful, it’s sexy, and it’s absolutely perfect. I just hope that it isn’t the last time.
Chapter Thirty-One
LIV
Aaric sits in front of me on the edge of the furs. I’m wearing the gauzy undergarment and nothing else, my legs wrapped around his waist as I drag the comb through his hair. My breakfast was eaten in the tent, after he consumed me and before we consumed one another again.
Now I’m braiding his hair per his specifications. We’re silent, I’m lost in my head, and I assume that Aaric is much of the same, lost to the thoughts of impending battle. Biting my bottom lip, I use the small piece of string that he gave me to tie the end of the hair I’m working on.
Reaching for another chunk of hair, I begin to braid that, my heart beating faster and faster with each move. It really hits me, he’s going into battle and this isn’t some kind of movie set, this is real.
This is swords and shields, this is magic and demons. I don’t want to think about the odds of his survival, but I know that they aren’t high.
“Do not doubt me, Liv,” he says, his voice rumbling through the tent.
Inhaling a sharp breath, I nod my head as though he can see me. “I haven’t said a word,” I point out.
He chuckles. “You do not need to, víf. Your shaking and trembling fingers say plenty without you uttering a single word.”