Page 110 of Upon Buried Embers
“You do not go under the water for that long!”
My brows furrow as I take in his face. Anger is there, yes, but so is something else.
Almost… no… he can’t be that concerned?
“I didn’t think I was under for long,” I tell him softly, and he scans my face searching for the truth. “I like the warmth.”
“You will get your warmth from me.” He grunts. “You were under there for over two minutes.”
“I didn’t know,” I tell him honestly, and he relaxes the hold he has in my hair, believing me.
He sighs, and I clear my face of hair, undoing the braids. I run my fingers through the tangles, aware of Rohan’s eyes on me, which seems to be a normal thing.
The water comes up to my shoulders so I’m fully covered, but the way Rohan always watches me, it feels like I’m stripped bare.
“Come here, Elf,” he says after a while, his voice low. I peek over at him sitting against the bank, his arms stretched out on either side of him.
I pause, then let go of my hair and wade toward him. When I’m close enough, he reaches out and grabs me, positioning me so I’m straddling his thick thighs. His hands slide to my hips, curving around my waist. His thumbs brush the underside of my breasts and rest there, causing me to shiver at his touch.
He presses me down as he gets comfortable and I’m seated how he wants me, fully covered in the water.
Biting my lip, my hands rest on my thighs as he pulls me closer, his cock resting against my stomach. He never glances down, never looks at my body.
“Take out the rest of my hair,” he orders, and I begin straight away, his eyes never leaving my face.
I start with the three larger braids, undoing the knot that keeps them tied and run my fingers through it. My hand automatically massages the back of his head when they’re free, and he groans, eyes fluttering closed.
I pause for a moment, but when he peeks at me, a demand in his eyes, I continue.
I smile at the pleasure on his face. Even the mighty can fall with a head scratch.
I lift my other hand up to join in, which brings my small breasts to his chest, and he rumbles out a sigh, his hands splaying on my back. My nipples pebble at the contact, but I continue to massage the back of his head, unsure of my actions but knowing it’s something I want to do.
And I don’twantmany things. I haven’t dared to because I don’t get what I want.
But I want to do this with him.
And he’s letting me.
And I like it.
So many take these small actions for granted because they have never been denied such simple pleasures in life.
When my hands begin to ache, I reluctantly remove them and pick up one of the many smaller braids on the side of his head that I practiced on. They’re scruffy and not even at all, but just as I’m about to begin to unravel them, a hand clamps down on my own, stilling my movement.
“They stay.” I look from him to the braids.
“They’re a mess, untidy.” They stand out among the braids Rohan has done himself. “They’re not done well.”
He shakes his head. “They stay.” He sits up and my hands fall to his stomach, feeling his abs ripple as he lifts his arms up, quickly gathers all of his hair and ties it into a short ponytail.
When he’s done, he runs his hands through my hair, and I sigh in pleasure at the gentleness of it. I don’t care if it’s a trap in this moment, or if there will be some sort of pain after… no one has touched me like this before.
I’m scared, but anticipation runs through me.
He continues to untangle my hair, playing with the curls.
“So long.”
