Total pages in book: 36
Estimated words: 32716 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 164(@200wpm)___ 131(@250wpm)___ 109(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 32716 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 164(@200wpm)___ 131(@250wpm)___ 109(@300wpm)
“If your gown is the problem, then we need to get rid of it.”
“No!”
His two large fists gripped the collar of the gown and viciously rent the simple, thin fabric in two. Grabbing at the sides, I tried to fight his hands and cover my nakedness with what was left. He only laughed. Pulling me forward, he pushed the fabric off my shoulders and down my arms. I watched helplessly as the two pieces of fabric floated away. With its billowing folds and the ripple of the water, it almost looked like a pair of wings in flight, before the waterlogged cloth slipped below the surface and sank.
Wrapping my arms over my breasts, I glared up at the unmerciful giant before me. Though I’d been stripped the day before, I hadn’t felt truly bared. Even when Grimm…when Grimm…even last night, I’d felt the cover of darkness had concealed me like a shroud. Now, as bright sunshine glistened through the dark trees and bounced off the water, there was no place to hide. Enduring his scrutiny, I could not help but see the stark contrasts in our bodies. Mine smooth, pale and slight. His darkly tanned, big and muscled. Dark hair covered his chest and…lower. The men of my village were short with the weak, lanky limbs that came from little manual labor.
Not so with these five wolf-men.
Despite my hatred of my enslavement to them, there was something deep and primal…an instinct…which responded to their display of strength and power. A core feminine ache to be protected and cared for.
The problem was, protecting and caring for me were the very last things on these men’s minds.
Crying out in fright, I turned my head to the side and closed my eyes when he made a sudden movement toward me. I could feel the warmth of his body as he stepped closer. That…thing…brushed high against my stomach.
His only response was a deep chuckle.
Keeping my eyes closed, trying to block out the frightening and confusing thoughts his presence elicited, I could smell the fresh scent of sandalwood. Peeking through my lashes, I saw his large hands covered in fragrant foam as he lathered them with a bar of soap.
Placing the soap on the ice behind me, he commanded, “Open your eyes.”
Fearing what my disobedience would bring, I obeyed.
“Now lower your arms. You need to bathe. It may have been hundreds of years since I have taken a woman, but I’ll not fuck one stinking of the village.”
Wondering if fucking meant what Grimm had done to my body the night before, I tearfully complied.
“Please, you don’t have to…to…fuck with me,” I begged.
Helm didn’t respond.
Reaching out, he placed his hands on my breasts. My mouth fell open in shock. Unable to form the words to protest, I could only feel. Caressing and kneading my flesh, he rubbed his hands in circles, leaving a sudsy trail of soap lather. My breasts felt heavy as my nipples tightened painfully into small buds. The scrape of his work-roughened palms over my soft flesh only heightened the sensation of his touch. When his hands moved to my shoulders then down my arms, I had to bite my lip to stifle a groan of disappointment. Slipping his hand beneath the water, he flattened his palm over my sensitive core. Still slightly swollen from Grimm’s touch, I winced as Helm’s finger pushed between the folds. His hand moving back and forth, the friction of his touch caused a fluttering sensation to settle deep in my stomach…and lower. My breath came in soft, harried gasps as his touch quickened. Sliding my feet to the sides of the slippery stone ledge, I opened my legs wider. His middle finger pressed into my body. Once, twice.
This time, I did groan when he pulled free. My now sensitive nipples were tickled by his chest hair as he leaned over me to reach for the soap. Working the soap into a heavy, thick lather, he placed it aside and pushed his fingers into my hair. Entangling his hands in my wavy locks, he rubbed my scalp and ran his hands down large fistfuls of hair, coating each curl in fragrant foam. His hands caressed down the curve of my back before settling low, just above my bottom. Pulling me forward, my hips pressed against his stomach, he trapped his engorged protrusion between us. Despite the warmth of the water, his skin felt hotter. As if he burned with his own internal fire.
Using his right hand, he grasped my hair and turned me to the side, forcing my body back. My breasts were thrust upward as my back bowed under the pressure of his grasp. The water lapped at the sides of my face as he rinsed the soap from my hair.
Feeling lightheaded and overwhelmed when he set my body upright, all I could think about was his touch and the growing ache between my legs. Leaning over me, he once again reached for the soap. Watching him handle it, his palms twisting and turning it, I couldn’t help but wish he was soaping my breasts once more. Tossing the soap aside, he lowered his brow and held my gaze for a moment. Seeing movement, my eyes slipped lower. He was handling himself. Rubbing the protrusion up and down, up and down, covering it in soft lather.