Ask For It by Gail Faulkner Read Free Book Online Page B

her simple dress this time. She wouldn’t need clothing for a while anyway. Hooking a claw in the neckline, he cut it off her with a single swipe down.
     
    “Hey. Watch it with the claws,” Sahara exclaimed in surprise.
     
    “I’m good with the claws and you love it,” he informed her smugly as he sat on the side of his tub to pull off boots and unlace the front of his pants. Shrugging out of the vest, he forgot the complications of having a Mist Lioness for a lover—the rewards were just too good as she seemed transfixed watching him strip.
     
    “Get in the shower before I forget I was going rinse us off before a soak in the tub,” he growled as little desert flower licked her lips. Her eyes were on the hard length of his cock, and if she asked, he’d not be able to say no to what was obviously on her mind.
     
    Her eyes shot up to his. “I’d step in there if I thought I could move without falling over.”
     
    Abruptly he realized she was leaning against the outside wall of the shower. Her legs trembled, bruises already showing up on her knees along with spots of blood where bits of dirt had dug into her soft skin.
     
    Tor swore under his breath as he gently picked her up and stepped into the enclosure, automatically activating numerous jets of water. Turning slowly to rinse the grime off, he made sure her knees were splashed but never in a direct stream of water. Sahara closed her eyes and relaxed in his hold.
     
    Her trust that he would take care of her shot pride through him. He was so damn proud of her courage as she strode into the future with him. The risk she took was huge. Probably bigger than either of them could grasp with the knowledge they had at present. Ignorance would provide a little peace, but not for long.
     
    If the legends were even partly true, Mist Lions had barely escaped Leonor alive in the far distant past. He didn’t want to dwell on that now. His arms were full of his naked female who needed tending, and doing exactly that gave him pleasure like no other.
     
    He was sorry about her scrapes and bruises but would not insult her by apologizing. He couldn’t regret anything they’d done. The marks were part of the fierce claiming he would remember for the rest of his life. He respected what they meant to both of them. Damn-well worshiped her for having them.
     
    Tor sat her on the ledge in the shower and quickly washed her soft, golden hair. He wondered briefly about that. Mist Lions were said to be gray or white. Her hair should have reflected that.
     
    Running the soap over his own body, making sure the layer of grime and sweat washed down the drain, he was done quickly. Lifting her again, he smiled at sleepy gray eyes. She’d been watching him bathe and was pretending she hadn’t. Her scent gave her away, even in the steam of the shower. Little desert flower liked to watch.
     
    “See something you want to touch?” he asked as he stepped into the tub.
     
    His private bath resembled a stone grotto. The tub appeared a natural spring with water running down the stone wall into a large pool. He sat on a ledge circling the reservoir several feet under the surface. Stretching long legs out before him, his torso angled back so only his shoulder blades rested on the wall behind him.
     
    He positioned her to lie down his body, chest to chest, her head on his shoulder just above the waterline. He wanted her to relax, sleep if it helped her. There were healing minerals in the water, and the longer he could keep her in it, the more good it would do. It would soothe the lacerations on her knees and ease the soreness between her legs.
     
    “I want to touch this,” she sighed, and reached behind him. Her hand followed the indentation of his spine to its base. Lightly she gripped the root of his tail and stroked down, petting him in one of the most intimate ways possible.
     
    Tor closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. Did tired little desert flower realize what she was doing?