While trying to pull some loose ends together without having to do a lot of exposition later, I came up with an idea. Not sure this is the right idea or a good one, but it works for now. Hopefully, it will be a little smoother later as I go over it.
“Come here.” She pulled him toward the bed and unlaced his shirt. Her fingers slid against his skin, when she jerked the shirt tail free. Undressing him was always her favorite part. She was careful to touch him soft as a whisper, teasing his with her fingertips. Licking him as each part was exposed. Listening to that low, guttural moan of pleasure aroused her almost as much as his touch.
Her breath caught when he reached up to fondle a breast. He kneaded it softly at first and then more urgently, cursing the fabric in his way. She lifted the hand to her face and trailed her tongue from the wrist up across the palm to the end of his middle finger and then swirled it around the tip. He groaned when she sucked the finger into her mouth. He always did and it never ceased to arouse her even further as she continued to suck deeply on the finger.
“Take your clothes off before I rip them off,” he whispered in her ear.
The glow of his almost silver eyes frightened her at first and then fascinated her. A medicine that caused the eyes to glow when the blood boiled with battle rage or passion intrigued the scholar in her and excited the woman. Even after hours of lovemaking his eyes still shone, softly now as she rested her head on his chest.
“I wanted to take you north, little whore.”
She flinched. “You know I hate it when you call me that.”
He laughed and pushed up on one elbow. The covers and sheet had long since fallen to the floor in a tangle. She ran a longing glance over his naked body. Would she ever tire of looking at him?
“Little whore.” He said it like a term of endearment, while he ran his finger across her jaw. “Why should it bother you? You whore your healing gifts out for the church like other women whore their bodies.” He reached down and flicked his tongue across her breast. “You could have been rich with this beautiful body and all that talent.” His head leveled as he gazed steadily at her. “I did want to take you north,” he repeated almost as an apology.
“I would go with you,” she said, trying to keep the excitement from her voice.
“I know you would.” He continued to trace his hand across her face, slowly stroking her. “I used to think what made you a remarkable lover was your touch. The healer’s touch is different, exciting as if it has an energy to it. I finally realized it’s your observations that make you so exquisite. You search and explore. You watch and measure every reaction. When you do something that causes a response you take it to the limits until I think I’m going insane with pleasure.”
She laughed deep in her throat, immensely pleased to hear him admit to his lust. “Is that such a bad thing? To be observant.” Her tongue darted out, wrapping around a finger and drawing it into her mouth. Slowly she moved on it, looking up at him and shivering in satisfaction as his eyes began to glow brighter.
He sighed. “Normally, no. You shouldn’t have spoken your thoughts about the prince, though. How very brilliant of you to notice his reactions. Brother Abion determined the poison and you the method of delivery. It was only a matter of time before you put it together.”
Her head froze, letting the finger drop from her lips. “What are you saying, Caidry?” Her eyes widened in horror. She felt as if she had discovered a serpent in her bed.
“I would have taken you north, but the baroness hates loose ends.”
He reached up a massive hand and grabbed her by the throat. She flailed against him, but he forced his body over hers, while the hand squeezed tighter. The earrings rapped against her cheeks as she threw her head, trying to escape. Colors burst in her eyes. Her chest ached for air and at last she fell limp into the darkness.
He watched her for several minutes, while he caressed her perfect flesh. “Such a waste,” he muttered as he stood up and dressed. He dropped two coins in her shoe. His gaze rested on her one last time. “Farewell, little whore. You’re free now.” He leaned over to kiss her, then threw his hood over his head and left.
Which part of this is delicate, and which is the flower?
I opened your blog with my husband sitting right next to me and had to blushingly close out of it ASAP! This is more than a poor, prude Mormon girl can take ; )
Oh, Kiersten, I am so sorry.
I should have labeled it. Fortunately, this is the extent of my x-rated writing.
I debated about this a long time. I knew I had to add something about the relationship and he had to be having a long-standing affair with her. By putting the coins in her shoe, a form of payment for prostitutes, it effectively closes any investigation into her death. The Reverent (her holy superior) just wants the scandal to die quickly.
Oh, I was teasing you, Julie. I have a degree in English; I’ve read much worse than this.
I was a bit surprised to see it coming from you, though ; )
Well, as I said, this is as graphic as I get and it may be too much. We’ll see.