preposterous, but I’m not above dismissing the possibility.
“Sorry,” I whisper under my breath to it, just in case.
Eliph glances down at the muck and grimaces. “I did. I added some of my magic to strengthen the healing property of the herbs. It will work much faster than it otherwise would.” His lips twist apologetically. “Unfortunately, it seems that it had the side effect of making the smell even more revolting. I apologize for that, but you will feel better after I rub this into your muscles.”
I want to jut my lip out and refuse, but I catch myself. What am I, five? Even Harriet behaves better than that when she has to do something she doesn’t like. Although the magic puke smells horrible, logically I know it’s no worse than what my niece has to endure whenever her mother rubs liniment oil into Harriet’s tired muscles after her more intense practice sessions. If my nine-year-old niece can bear it, I certainly am not going to act like a baby about it.
And if it makes me feel better so I am not feeling like a walking corpse all day… it could be worth it despite the way it’s going to make me reek. At least the smell isn’t making me want to hurl. That’s a plus.
“This will make me feel better?” I ask hesitantly.
Grimsal nods, his smile brightening. “With the unicorn magic, there’s no doubt. You’ll be right as rain in an hour or two. Maybe a tiny bit of stiffness but not too bad. Be glad that we are doing this in small increments. It could be so much worse.”
I don’t even want to think about worse.
“All right,” I mutter with one last scowl at the slimy poultice. “Go ahead and hit me with it then.”
“I will massage it into your muscles very carefully,” Eliph assures me as he gently turns me over from my side onto my belly.
I can’t help the pained groan that escapes me as the muscles pull. My hips are practically crying at the slow tug as he repositions me, but once I’m settled, it’s not so bad. Lying on my belly, I burrow my face into my coat as he lifts my shirt and gets to work on my back. The goblin crap is cool to the touch on my skin at first but quickly heats up as he strokes up and down my back with his long, strong fingers.
To my surprise, as he works it into my skin, the smell of the gunk changes, having a more astringent rosemary-mint note to it, with subtle undercurrents of currant, palm oil, and other trace scents that I can’t identify offhand. It’s strong, but not unpleasant like it was before. Even better, those fingers rubbing into my skin are doing wonderful things to my body. Although the intent is obviously to ease my aching muscles, which it is, in spades—I can literally feel each one easing into mush as he enthusiastically ministers to it—they dance in such a way that each touch has started to make my clit throb just a little as one pleasure blurs into another.
I finally understand why so many people find massages erotic because this is hitting all the right places for me.
Eliph stills suddenly, his hands at the small of my back. I can feel a shudder move through him. His fingers dip down lower, very slowly massaging around my hips in small, tight circles even as the rest of him hovers over me. Something hard brushes against my ass as he shifts his weight over me before he rubs lower into my hips, and a soft, embarrassing moan unintentionally escapes me.
He makes an inhuman sound in the back of his throat that almost resembles a cross between the nicker of a horse and rumble of a feline. Whatever it is, it makes all the tiny hairs on my body stand on end with pleasure as the sound hits my ear.
I arch a little into his touch and mumble with satisfaction as he begins to work off my pants. The pleasure dims as my leg muscles protest being manhandled, but then the cool poultice is rubbed into the back of my thighs and I let out a tiny whimper of relief as he slowly makes his way down my legs. He even carefully massages my aching feet before turning me over—this time with thankfully less pain—and begin his ministrations at the feet, working his way up.
In this position, one thing soon becomes