Page 72 of Bound to the Shadow Prince

“It is not about trust,” Nemeth says after a long moment. “It is…not something that can be mended with ease. It will heal on its own. Or not. Regardless, you cannot help.”

I scowl at him. And he thinksI’mstubborn? “Clearly we are doing this the hard way. I’ll go get my soap.”

WhenI move to pass him, Nemeth grabs my arm. “Candra. Wait.” To my surprise, he looks embarrassed more than anything. “It is…a wound that would be regarded as shameful and foolish amongst my people. That is why I hesitate.”

Ah. It’s a dick wound. I get it now. I shake my head. “Nemeth, you saved me. I don’t think you can get more gallant and heroic than that. You confronted two men and snapped them like they were twigs and flung them out of the tower. You kept ussafe. How could you possibly think I would consider any wound you got in those efforts as embarrassing?”

He remains silent, his eyes reflecting the light of my lamp.

I decide to try another tactic. “I’ll suck your cock if you let me heal your wounds.”

Nemeth gapes at me. “W-what?”

“You heard me,” I say calmly, even though my heart is racing at his visceral reaction to my bargaining. “You let me tend to you, and in exchange for you saving my life, I’ll suck your cock. I’ll suck it so hard that we’ll be scraping your cum off the ceiling.”

“You cannot offer that?—”

“It’s my mouth, and I’ll offer it if I want to,” I say, voice pert. “Of course, I’ll save the sucking for after you’re all healed up, but the offer remains. You saved my life and I never got to thank you. Now I’ll bargain with you. Let me tend your wound for being my hero and saving my life a second time, and I’ll suck your cock in sheer gratitude.”

I don’t point out that the sucking on him would be for my pleasure, as well. That just thinking about it is making my heart flutter with anticipation and that the flutter has lodged itself between my thighs.

“I would not bargain for such a thing,” Nemeth says, voice stiff. “I would never force you to service me?—”

“Give me your hand,” I say, holding mine out. I set the lamp down on the floor nearby and gaze up at him.

“Candra—”

“Give me your hand,” I say again. When he sighs and does as I ask, I hike up my skirts with my other hand and then guide his big palm under my layers of clothing, pressing him to the vee between my thighs. I’m slick and aching there already. “Does that feel like I’m being forced to service you?” I tilt my head up at him. “Or that I’m excited to reward a strong warrior who’s saved me twice now?”

“You…are utterly impossible.”

“Yes, I am,” I agree. “Now let me see your wound so I can take care of it for you.”

Nemeth grumpsand fusses at me as we head up the stairs.

“You do not need to tend my wound,” he says in that stuffy voice as I move into our quarters ahead of him. “It will heal on its own. Nor do you need to offer your mouth as incentive. That is not appropriate.”

“Mmm. But I’m going to do both anyhow,” I reply, setting the lamp upon one of the tables. I tap the other one to turn it on, flooding the chamber with more light. Moving to the fireplace, I hang a pot over the empty firepit and bend down to start a fire, deliberately ignoring Nemeth. I’m going to give him time to adjust to the idea of me tending to him, however much he might dislike it. If his wound gets infected, I’ll be left alone in this tower, and I refuse to let that happen.

Once the fire is lit and licking at the wood, I pour water from a pitcher into the pot so it can heat up. I glance over at Nemeth, ready to argue with him if necessary. The big Fellian is seated on his favorite stool, his posture stiff and upright, a mutinous look on his face. I don’t get why he’s acting like I’m suddenly theenemy. It must truly be in an uncomfortable spot, this wound, and I remind myself to be patient with him. He’s a male, even if he’s Fellian, and they’re sensitive about their cocks.

I look him over again. He’s seated upright with his thighs parted, straddling the stool. Are his thighs farther apart than usual? Is that because of the wound there? Sympathy rushes through me and I dip the cloth in the warm water, then move to his side. “All right. Lift your kilt.”

Nemeth gives me a shocked look. “You…you are going to suck my cock now?”

Does he really think now is the time? I find it interesting he’s no longer averse to such an offer, just the timing of it. “Tempting, but I’m actually going to clean your wound for you, and save the cock sucking for when it’s recovered. But I can’t help you if you don’t show me where you’re hurt.” When he yet hesitates, I step between his thighs and reach for the edge of his kilt. “I promise I’ll be gentle.”

He grabs my hand again, stopping me with a puzzled look on his face. “And you think it’s between my thighs?”

“Where is it, then?” Where is this shameful wound if not in a private area?

Nemeth sighs heavily and runs a clawed hand down his face. Then, still covering his expression, he extends one wing out to the side.

I see it, then. A horrible, ugly gash that slices down through the delicate membrane of his wing. One of the men must have lunged at him with the pickaxe and dragged it through his wing, tearing it apart. The cut looks horrid, as long as my arm and extends all the way down to the edge, where it continues to drip blood. “Oh,” I breathe. “Oh, Nemeth.”

“There is nothing to be done for it.” He hangs his head. “It was my fault. A warrior knows he must always protect his wingsin battle, but I wanted to frighten them with my size, to distract them away from you.”

And it worked, too. Once Nemeth appeared, they had no interest in me.

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