Chapter Eight
I CAME AWAKE SLOWLY, RUBBING MY EYES, unsure of what had pulled me from my slumber.
“That there is one of the prettiest things these old eyes have seen in many a season,” Asdren’s voice slipped through the fog of exhaustion.
Groggy from sleep, I smiled softly at the gravelly voice, stretching like a cat until the pull on my left arm brought forth a stab of pain.
That woke me fully. “Never imagined ginger hair would look even redder against a white pillow.”
My modesty came wide awake as I realized I was spread out over the bed, blanket kicked off due to the heat of the room, wearing a shirt that barely covered my arse.
With a hiss of pain, I flailed about, wrenching my shirt down to cover my cock and balls.
Asdren stood by the hearth, several packages wrapped in brown paper in his hands, gaze as heated as the fire leaping behind the commonplace fire screen.
“Settle yourself, Chirp. I’ve seen your treats a time or two already. Not saying they ain’t tempting…”
He placed the packages on the mantel and plucked a small vial from the lot while I slid off the bed to fetch the blanket from the floor.
“If you have seen my treats then you were looking uninvited,” I snapped, embarrassed to the core.
“Guilty as charged,” he tittered, turning to face me.
He lifted the bottle. “This here is a soothing rub for overworked muscles. It should ease the tension in that shoulder. We can’t have you off your feet when we move through the abandoned mines.
The trolls and crawlers won’t give two jigs if you can’t fire a bow proper so we need to mend you up. Sit down on the bed.”
“I need my breeches,” I squeaked as I tied the plain brown blanket around my waist.
“For the love of the Hearthmother’s winsome dimples, just sit the hell down. You got nothing I ain’t seen a hundred times before. Way you carry on, you’d think you was some virgin sister of the stone.” He cocked that severed eyebrow. I felt my cheeks flame. “You ain’t untried, are you?”
“No!” I shouted far too loudly. “I have had lovers.”
His lips pulled up at one side. “Good, then no need to be so prudish.”
“I am not prudish.”
“Then you won’t object if I get in this here tub before the water gets any colder.
” With that, he tossed the vial to me, winked, and reached for the ties of his leather pants.
Unable to look away or be called a blushing maid, I stood rooted to the worn floorboards as he shed his armor and then underclothing, his sinful blue eyes locked with mine.
“I am still mad at you,” I said, holding the blanket in one hand and the vial in the other. “You called me a whore.”
“Nope, never said that. Said I bought you off a whoremaster. You could maybe have been a scullery maid. Look, Chirp, my people have little trust for most of the other races that live above ground. Seems any time we let an elf or human in here they end up stealing from us. You can only be fucked in the arse without oil so many times before you start clenching real tight. There was no way you was getting in without such a lie, so just settle with it and move on. I brought you that liniment. Healer swears it relieves muscle aches and overuse. He best hope it does, or he’s going to find my boot wedged firmly up his arse.
So, calm your tits and when I’m done washing my stones, I’ll rub some of that medicine into your shoulder. ”
I eyed my saddlebag containing my lone pair of clean breeches. “Perhaps you did not say it right out, but you led people to believe that I was yours to play with.”
“Well, that never hurt no one, did it?”
I threw a dark look his way. And then it fizzled out as he stood beside the tub—nude.
His body looked to be hewn from the very granite we were encased in.
Thick thighs and calves peppered with small white scars, dense black hair on his chest that turned into a forest of ebony curls around a fat cock that hung down the inside of his left leg.
Massive balls—no surprise there—and what looked to be flat feet.
Wide shoulders that flared only slightly into a smaller waist. He was a block of pure stone, muscle, and masculinity.
I felt stirrings under the thick blanket.
They scared me, so I did what any street rat who is frightened and backed into a corner does.
I hid. A pleased rumble of laughter rolled out of him as I rushed to get back into bed.
“Like what you seen, Chirp?” he asked as I lay on the bed, eyes closed, and the vial of muscle liniment clutched to my chest like a prayer necklace.
“I have seen your treats before,” I coughed out, willing my cock to soften, but it seemed unable to go limp. Water splashing told me he was in the tub. I chanced a peek. Yes, he was seated, head on the rim, long black hair flowing down over the side to tickle the damp floor.
“If you saw my treats then you was looking uninvited,” he tossed out with a satisfied sigh.
“Arse,” I whispered as I watched his lashes languidly drift shut.
Wishing I had witty words to fling at him, I went back to looking at the ceiling as he hummed a song I did not know while splashing about.
My thoughts grew sluggish as the warmth of the room enveloped me yet again.
I blinked awake when someone touched my left forearm.
Asdren stood above me, bare chested, water clinging to the thick mat of hair on his chest. His beard and hair were damp, curling rapidly in the heat, his gaze ablaze as his rough fingers rested on my face.
The blue beads—so similar to the rich sapphire of his eyes—glinted in the firelight.
“You want some of that worked into your shoulder?” he asked, his voice thick with emotion.
I nodded quietly, unable to speak, before moving to my left side.
The blanket around my waist slid off my legs, exposing them to his roaming perusal.
“I’ve never seen a soul with skin so damn pretty.
All white as new snow with a hundred or more droplets of reddish-brown.
It’s like your goddess took the paintbrush she used to color in a red stag and flung the leftover stain on you. ”
I swallowed roughly, the bottle resting on my heaving chest. What should I say to such beautiful words?
“Why is it so warm in here?” I asked as he drew his hand from my arm to pluck the herbal rub from between my fingers.
“Most likely because we’re deep down in the mountain. Under the shale, lava flows like water in your deepest woods. The heat in the mines is enough to drive anyone who ain’t a stone son or daughter out of their heads.”
“I am not a stone son,” I reminded him as I eased over more to rest on my hip.
“No, boy-o, you certainly ain’t no son of the shale,” he mumbled softly. My sight touched on the wall. No window to stare out of to watch the stars or sun.
“What time is it? Did I sleep long?” I listened for the sounds of drunken patrons but heard only the hiss of sap from a green log in the fire mixing with our breaths.
“It’s got to be going on three chimes,” he said as he reached out to tug on the lacings of my shirt. “You’ll need to loosen these so we can tend to your shoulder.”
“Yes, yes,” I whispered, my eyes locked on the bare wall. “I cannot reach them without pain.”
“Then lie still and let me.”
The backs of his fingers skimmed my collarbone. A soft gasp fluttered over my dry lips. The ties came undone painfully slowly, each feathery brush of his hand making my stones feel heavier. He gave the neckline a tug. “Nah, not enough room. We need to take it off.”
“Yes, yes,” I replied again, wishing I had more coverings.
Pushing up to sit, we eased the shirt free.
Our gazes touched momentarily. There was no mistaking the desire in his cobalt eyes as his sight moved down over my chest, my stiff manhood hidden under a knot of blanket.
I peeked down at the fur covering his pectorals and stomach. “I am much different than you.”
“Aye, Chirp, that you are. You’re like a fine-boned bird, beautiful red feathers, bright green eyes, lithe, and able to soar high, whereas I’m like a miserable old rock bear.”
“I have spoken to bears. Well, a bear,” I replayed as he motioned for me to lie back down.
I nestled into the mattress, the pillow cradling my left cheek, as he popped the cork on the vial.
“He was most irritable as well, but he had been wounded earlier in the season, and the wound had not healed properly.”
An aroma rich with crushed cloves, black pepper, and tundra sage. All common ingredients for relief of pain but never had I tried mixing them together.
“Then I guess that fits me to a tee. Grumpy about an old wound that’ll never heal.
” He sat down behind me, the bed sinking under his weight, and placed a hand on my shoulder.
I winced at the initial touch, not so much in pain, but in anticipation of a firmer grip.
“This is going to make your skin warm, might make you a little sleepy as well. The apothecary said it’s got some wild whip grass ground into it to ease the patient into a more relaxed state.
So if you get to feeling groggy, just let sleep take you. ”
“Yes, thank you.” I found I did not wish to sleep more, not yet, not when he was about to—
Oh. That was glorious. His slippery fingers began to move. The liniment began to soak into my skin, through it, down into the tense muscles. Asdren began kneading the area with great care, working the warming oil deep into my shoulder.
“You doing okay, Chirp? Tell me if it’s too much.” His voice was like soft butter. I began to melt into the bedding more, my body and mind gentling as he massaged a path from my shoulder up the side of my neck.
“Goddess yes, I am fine. That is so wonderful.” I sighed.
“Good, good.” His hand was rough, the fingertips calloused, yet the feeling was divine. “You look at ease.”