Page 88 of Ruthless Scoundrel
It feels like something my mother would do, and I hate myself for it.
Jasper stole me. Jasper took me forhispurpose, forhisgoals. It’s not vile for me to ask the same in return. It’s not evil for me to use my sexuality to urge and coerce.
Except it feels like it is.
Circular thoughts plague me all day until we make camp. I collapse in the damp grass where Jasper is setting our tent.Humidity clings to my body and I pant heavily as I reach for my skein. I suck the last of the warm water down and moan pathetically.
“I’ll get you more soon, just rest,” Jasper says.
“No, I can get it,” I say, refusing to let him wait on me anymore.
I look around for where the central camp is being made. They always bring enough water for everyone to have some. The caravan has decreased in size by half, some of the merchants taking alternate roads to different towns, and now we have some space to ourselves while still enjoying the protection of a group.
I roll onto my side and climb to my feet, groaning at the pain in my lower belly. To hell with womanhood. I reach for the skein on Jasper’s waistband. “Let me fill yours too. I might need to drink it later.”
He chuckles and unhooks it from his multi-pocketed belt. My fingers brush his as I take the skein, and it feels like a shock coursing through my body from the contact. His eyes flare with beautiful opalescent color, his magic surging to the surface. My lungs ache as I stare at his breathtaking radiance.
“Hurry back,” he says in a quiet hush, his gaze intense.
I suck down a gasp of much-needed air that does nothing to clear the buzzing from my head and nod. I need to get away from him and this sensation that forces all the other feelings I want to avoid, like guilt and doubt, to the surface.
My legs ache in protest as I walk to the center of camp, but something about the ache feels undeniablygood.I know that I’m getting stronger. I know that tomorrow I’ll be able to walk farther before Jasper starts to hold up my pack and hurry me along.
I help shred coconut husk for the firepit while someone else retrieves water. It also feels good to be able todosomething, to know how to help. I’ve made small talk with many of the peopleon this trip and lied to all of them convincingly. I don’t know how to cook to save my life, but I’ve watched enough of the goings-on in the kitchen to fake it.
The water arrives and we boil it first, then I fill up our skeins. Jasper has set up the tent and made the interior comfortable by the time I get back. He pulls me against his chest, and despite all my feelings toward him over the last weeks, I melt as he begins to massage my shoulders.
I drop the skeins and moan. “Please never stop.”
He hums mirthfully. “That’s going to make getting dinner ready difficult.”
“I’ll eat old cheese and bread without complaint if you keep going for at least another ten minutes,” I mumble against his chest.
“I can do ten minutes. Lie down on your stomach so I can get all of you,” he says.
I hastily remove my boots and get onto the bedding, putting my pack under my chest for support. Jasper’s thighs land on either side of me and I gasp, looking over my shoulder at him.
“What are you doing?” I ask, trying to escape his caging legs.
He sits down on my ass and pins me. “This is quite the compromising position, isn’t it?”
“It’s more thancompromising, it’s uncouth,” I say, wiggling to get free, but it’s fruitless. I’m sore and weak, but if I’m being honest, there’s something comforting in his weight pinning me down.
He leans over me and whispers as he kneads my neck. “Good thing we’re husband and wife.”
His breath against my cheek sends a shiver down my spine to my core. I can’t help the whimper that escapes as he circles a particularly knotted spot where my backpack strap sat all day.
“This feel good, sunshine?” he asks, digging into the painful muscles.
“Yes,” I groan thoughtlessly.
“That’s what I like to hear.” His voice is low and warm, like a summer breeze sliding across my skin. The tension coiling in my stomach triples.
“Relax into me,” he says, sliding his hands down my spine.
Everywhere his fingers glide tingles with some unknown force. It’s not healing magic…it’s something else. It’s the same feeling that vibrated all over my body when he held me down on the sandy beach and devoured me. The same feeling when we danced.
Unbidden heat is coiling in my center from the attention just as before. I need to know what it means. I remember the word so clearly despite being in a pleasure-filled haze.
