Total pages in book: 163
Estimated words: 152616 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 763(@200wpm)___ 610(@250wpm)___ 509(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 152616 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 763(@200wpm)___ 610(@250wpm)___ 509(@300wpm)
But I did know what he’d shared with me already. That he was here because he’d been looking for something he’d believed that Muriel knew how to locate. However, I wasn’t sure if that was why he was here, at the manor. That was what I needed to discover.
Testing the water, I hoped Lord Thorne liked it warm as I cut off the faucet. I rose to retrieve a towel, to place it on the nearby stool as I said, “Your bath is ready, my lord.”
“Thorne,” he corrected.
I gave a little jump at how close his voice was. How one of his size could move so silently still was beyond me. Picking up a fluffy towel, I turned and nearly dropped it.
A wicked sense of déjà vu swept through me. Once more, Lord Thorne stood in the doorway, and he was completely, utterly naked, and I was transfixed by the display of smooth, sandy skin and taut muscle as my gaze lowered to his cock. My breath caught. He was thick and long, yet not even fully aroused. How could one fully take him—
All right. I needed to stop thinking. And staring. Maybe even breathing. Perhaps dying would be a good choice at the moment.
“Keep looking at me like that and I don’t think a bath will be what I’ll need.”
Heat exploded in my cheeks as I forced my gaze to his, hoping that in the candlelight he couldn’t see how red my face felt. I didn’t think courtesans blushed at a nude man.
Then again . . .
I glanced quickly at the thick length between his legs and decided that even Naomi probably would right now.
“Are you sure this is what you wish?”
Sucking in a sharp breath, I looked up at him. “I’m sorry?”
“To be of service to me?” Lord Thorne clarified. “When I’m not injured?”
“Yes.” I fixed a smile on my face. “Of course.”
“And you understand what that entails? That I will seek pleasure and I will feed on it?”
The way he said that made this sound like a business arrangement, and perhaps that was the appropriate way to think of this. After all, wasn’t that what this was? But it didn’t feel like that at all as I nodded.
He eyed me for several moments, his stare piercing, as if he could see right through me— through what was partially a facade. My heart was pounding so hard, I was sure he could hear it. I didn’t dare look away or let my smile falter, didn’t want to give away how nervous I was.
Then he strode forward, completely at ease with the fact that not a single stitch of clothing covered him. He briefly caught my gaze again as he stepped into the tub and sank into the water, giving me a nice view of a rather firm rear.
His ass truly was extraordinary.
Lord Thorne hummed a sound of pleasure, drawing my gaze down. He’d let his head rest against the rim of the tub. With his eyes closed, I let myself take in the elegant features of his face and the display of his body. It was truly unfair that any being could look as . . . as decadent as my— Nope. Damn it, he was not my anything. I really, really needed to stop with that nonsense.
Refocusing, I glanced around the chamber and spied the soap. “Would you like me to bathe you?”
“It would please me greatly if you would.”
I placed the towel back on the stool.
“And I know it will please you greatly to do so,” he added.
It would, and the fact that he remembered that annoyed me. Also excited me as I went to one of the numerous shelves. I picked up a bar of soap that carried the faint scent of lemongrass. Turning, I saw that his eyes were open to thin slits and both arms lay on the edge of the tub. He watched me closely as I approached him. I could feel this . . . this tension crackling between us, electric and alive. A flutter of unease and . . . and something else started in my chest and moved lower.
“Is the water to your liking?” I knelt on the marble floor behind the tub.
“Very,” he replied, and the flutter moved again at that one word.
I placed the soap on the small metal caddy beside me. Hands lathered, I reached for his arm.
He gave a little jerk when my hands touched him, like he’d done in the shower. Or I did this time. Maybe we both did. I wasn’t sure as he lifted his arm for me and I drew my hands up, hoping he didn’t notice the faint tremor in them.
Silencing my own thoughts was harder than before, but I managed. Like before, I . . . I heard none of his thoughts. There was a good chance I was simply too distracted once more by how hard and smooth his skin was. It was almost like granite. Did all of him—