DarykCraving by Denise A. Agnew Read Free Book Online

hollow life filled with regrets.
    “If all I had was this with you, I would still be a lucky
woman indeed,” she said. “But I know there is more I could have with you.” She
smiled, the gesture fragile. “I will come to you again and again until you can
touch me and I feel nothing but pleasure.”
    Unmistakable relief cleared his eyes. “Whatever you wish.”
She nodded and he returned to the bed to retrieve his tunic. He pulled it over
his head. He strode to the door and stopped with his hand on the door handle.
Caution flickered in those blue eyes. “Did you wear that dress to drive me
mad?”
    A laugh flowed easily from her. “Yes. Am I wicked?”
    He rolled his gaze to the ceiling for a moment. “Extremely.
I bid you good night.”
    After he’d left, she went to the door and locked it. Her
heartbeat thumped hard, but this time with a growing recognition that she’d
turned a corner.
    Marc had always dared her. A small portion of her wanted to
torture him, the way a little girl teases a boy she likes. Oh yes. If he liked
her dress, she knew what she wore the next night would drive him mad. Dressing
in an alluring fashion would make her feel more sexual.
    Any doubts she’d harbored that he didn’t care for her and
didn’t want her had slid away since she’d left the desert caravan. She wouldn’t
make Marc prove himself over and over. Any problems she had with intimacy
rested on her, and she’d learned that with time. She would banish her fears
somehow. She’d learned that touching Marc brought pleasure, and his embrace
could soothe her pain and fear. By the god, it had felt so wonderful in his
arms.
    Perhaps, just perhaps she could ease her own mind about a
more intimate touch.
    She slipped off her shoes and lay down on the bed for a few
moments. Although the storm outside gave no quarter, Aknada lay quiet and still
as she reflected. She hadn’t pleasured herself since long before the rapes.
She’d forgotten how to find sensual pleasure. If she learned pleasure within
her own body, in the privacy of her room, she had nothing to fear.
    Xandra left the bed long enough to shed her clothes. Without
guilt or worry, she began. At first exploration meant smoothing her hands over
skin. She definitely had curves. She wasn’t as slight as Xandra. She’d never
been considered over her weight, and most of her size amounted to muscle, bone
and height. Her fingers slid over her shoulders, her collarbone and tentatively
to her neck.
    Yes, she liked the sensation, the shivery delight that came
with a touch to her neck. She would learn not to react negatively to Marc’s
touch in this area.
    Soft and slow she drifted down each arm, touching and
teasing her own fingers and hands. She ignored her breasts—touching there was
far too intimate right this moment. No, she would work up to that. Inch by inch
she toured her flesh. With both palms she slid down her belly, circled her
navel with her palm until the repetitive motion created a new delight in her
belly. Oh yes, she liked that. The sensation was hot, swirling, demanding. She
drew up one leg and toured them with her fingers, removing the twitchy,
startled response that would normally commence if someone touched her legs. She
lowered that leg and then explored the other, up the calf, over the knee. The
thigh.
    When she reached her thighs, she quivered. She brought both
legs up, bent at the knees. Touching the inside of her thighs again, she worked
her way to the sensitive, most intimate area. She kept her eyes closed and
dared to hope.
    She placed a palm over her mons.
    No shock. No fear.
    She moved her palm so that it pressed on her clit.
    Ah, that felt nice.
    Better yet, she was moist between the legs. Either her
encounter with Marc or this personal session had done this to her. She smiled
with delight and continued to travel. She slowly teased the swollen lips,
spreading her own moisture around and around her opening, and the tingling it
created gave her incentive