Missy Jane - Born of Stone

“Astrid, you have not worked here long enough to earn so many scars from Simon.”

The anger in his voice wasn’t surprising. It seemed the Masters were always angry over something. Since he hadn’t asked a direct question, she kept her mouth shut.

His large hands landed softly on her shoulders, making her jump and drop her arms despite the gentle touch.

“Calm yourself,” he murmured. “I’ve sworn not to hurt you. Remember?”

“Y-yes.”

“Now that I know of Simon’s treachery, I understand your fear. But I swear there is no reason for it.”

She tightened her lips while his hands smoothed down her arms to her wrists, then back up in a single glide. He slipped them between her arms and breasts. Before she could react they were gone again, gliding down her ribs to her hips. He ran them over her bottom and then back up her back. He soaped her nape before dropping his hands to her bottom again. Then he moved them below the water to her legs. By the time he reached her ankles, she was nearly breathless.

“Turn around.”

Surely he didn’t mean to give the same treatment to her front?

She did as he said. There really was no choice. Whether she liked it or not, he was her Master, and she knew better than to disregard anything he said.

Her position on the shelf put her one head above him but she couldn’t bring herself to meet his gaze. His perusal was like a physical caress when he glanced over her ruined body. Heat filled her cheeks the longer he looked, until she was certain her face would catch fire.

“You have nothing to be ashamed of. I find you quite beautiful.”

That immediately had her gaze snapping to his and irrational anger filling her gut. How dare he mock her so?

“Oh, aye. Beautiful as a crumbling statue of the great and hideous Medusa, perhaps.”

The bastard grinned and shook his head. “Of course not. I find beauty in the strength it obviously took to endure this abuse.” His grin faded along with her anger. “I speak truly, Astrid. I find you very lovely indeed.”

“Oh…”

As if that was his cue, he took the vial of soap between his hands again for another dose. Then he treated the front of her body to the same sensual assault as the back. She kept her gaze firmly fixed on a spot on the far wall, trying in vain to ignore the feelings his touch ignited. However, she couldn’t help flinching the first time his rough hands passed over her erect nipples. She gasped and nearly moved away but he grabbed her shoulders to steady her.

Without a word, he palmed her breasts and squeezed lightly. Her pulse sped up and her breathing became labored. How could such a simple touch affect her so? She’d been with men before. Two to be exact. But now that she thought back on those wholly unremarkable experiences, she knew their hurried groping in the dark was nothing like this simple touch. Orestes was akin to the most skilled sorcerer conjuring magic from her weakened body. She wanted to fall at his feet and beg for more but feared to even speak.

Then his hands slipped down to her flat stomach and she could breathe again. She ignored the disappointment singing in her veins and tried to remain still as his touch tickled her navel. Nervousness flittered through her when his fingers neared her lower curls. But what could she do? She didn’t have the strength to stop him or the will to move away from his touch. So instead she shut her eyes tightly and prayed to the Goddess he would finish quickly.

Was she innocent then? Orestes honestly couldn’t tell from the play of emotions crossing her lovely face. He knew there was one sure way to tell, but feared she would either scream or claw his eyes out if he attempted it. No, for now he would touch only the surface of her body. Anything else would have to wait until he had earned at least a little more of her trust.

He skimmed his fingers through the bushy hair at the apex of her legs. It was an odd sensation. He was used to the smooth mons of the Keva. They kept their bodies hairless with oils found only in their tropical home. He vaguely wondered if he could attain some of those oils for Astrid’s skin. Would she even allow him to apply them? He didn’t mind the hair so much. It was just different. With soapy fingers, he delved into the curls and ignored her gasp. She began to tremble when he gently cupped her sex and flexed his fingers.

He soaped her well, causing her to widen her stance. She grasped his shoulders for balance and he kept his gaze firmly on his hand lest he frighten her. If the hunger slowly building in his body showed even slightly on his face, she would be frightened for sure. Luckily the water hit him just above where his erection already stood proudly from his body. Had she noticed? The temptation to look at her face was strong but he fought it. For now, he would satisfy himself with this simple touch and cleanse her.

He hadn’t delved as deeply when her back was turned. He did so now, keeping one hand on her sex while wrapping his other arm around to the back. She gasped again and her grip on his shoulders tightened, but she didn’t cry out or pull away. He took that as permission to gently explore her secrets. One hand slipped between her nether lips while the other dipped between her cheeks. They met in the middle at her most sensitive flesh and he massaged her slowly with two fingers. Her breathing stuttered before speeding up and her grip tightened further until her short nails bit into his flesh. His cock was so hard he feared he might come just from touching her this way.

Finally, he could no longer resist temptation and lifted his gaze to look at her expression. Her eyes were tightly shut, her head thrown back. The pulse in her neck beat a frantic tempo and her breasts heaved. She was the picture of feminine passion and there was no way to stop himself from indulging. He leaned forward and placed a soft kiss at the base of her throat. When she didn’t stop him, he did it again. Then again with a small bite. She moaned and pushed her hips forward against his hand.

“Master…”

“Uh-uh, my little star. I told you to call me Orestes.”

“Oh….Orestes…I…oh…”

Her brow furrowed and her hips sped up. He watched her lovely face while her body trembled in his arms. She was close. So close he could almost taste her arousal on the air. Had she ever felt this passion before? For another man? A deep growl left his chest before he could stop it at the thought and her eyes flew open. Her pupils were dilated, making her brown eyes appear even larger. It gave her a look of innocence that deeply contrasted the wanton movement of her hips. He growled again.

“Oh, Orestes.”

He moved his fingers faster through the moisture seeping from her body. Then she cried out and threw her head back again as her small frame shuddered. She was falling apart in his arms and he had never seen a lovelier sight. He kept his fingers in play until her muscles relaxed and she whimpered. Then he slowly pulled them away and picked her up, cradling her against his chest. Her head rested just above his heart. Could she hear it racing? He’d never been so aroused without a single touch from a woman.

He kissed her forehead and she looked up at him with a dazed expression. Masculine pride filled him at knowing he had satisfied her so well. But there was so much more he wanted to do with her.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

He frowned. “Sorry? Whatever for?”

She chewed on her bottom lip a moment before slowly raising her head to meet his gaze. It appeared to take a supreme effort.

“For what just happened. I know you were only trying to wash me.”

He threw his head back and laughed, tightening his grip on her slender body. Once his amusement subsided he caught her gaze again and instantly sobered at the uneasiness he spied.