I pull the sleeves of the dress I’m wearing down to my wrists. It’s late in the evening and Tornn will be returning at any moment. We’d already enjoyed dinner together, but he’d had some work to finish before he could retire for the night.
My heart races when I contemplate what will happen when he comes back. Yesterday, he’d mentioned training my bottom hole with plugs, stating that he would start training mevery soon. Tonight, perhaps?
Anticipation builds from deep within, causing my breath to quicken and warm quaking pulses to afflict my center. I exit the bathroom and walk around his quarters, wondering when he’ll let me roam the ship whenever I want. Without his escort. I’m eager to explore theHaxxaland anxious to speak with Sheila. I’m not certain if she’s still in the brig—Tornn is reluctant to answer my questions, and whenever I inquire about the situation, he simply insists it's being handled and promises the alliance is still intact.
Will he ever trust me enough to talk about his work with me? It’s a bit jarring that he’s allowed to keep secrets, but apparently, I’m not. If he asks me a question, he expects an honest answer immediately.
Of course, there’s that big secret I’m still keeping from him.Nathan.Nathan and his vague fucking asinine messages. I’ve never breathed a word about my former fiancé to Tornn.
If I’m being honest, I’m scared of his reaction if he finds out I used to be in love with another man.
Wait a second—used to be in love?Used to?
After I search my heart, I realize it’s true. I no longer hold Nathan in high regard, and it’s not just because he’d recently called me names. In truth, I think we’d started growing apart even before I was told I would become a Darrvason bride.
But no matter my current feelings for Nathan, as possessive as Tornn is, I’m afraid he might find a way to hurt my former fiancé, even if such an action goes against the terms of the alliance.
I resolve that I’ll keep this one secret no matter what. I promise myself I’ll lie to his face if he ever asks about my past romantic history. I doubt it’ll matter to him that I never slept with Nathan, that our relationship never went beyond cuddling on the sofa together. Oh, and the one and only kiss we shared, anticlimactic as it was.
Exhaustion weighs me down and my eyelids start to feel heavy. With great care, I ease onto the bed but don’t get under the covers, promising myself I’m just taking a quick rest and I’m not calling it a night yet. I make sure to curl up on my side. My bottom is too tender from yesterday’s punishment to sit comfortably or lay on my back.
I reach around and gingerly feel my ass, moving from cheek to cheek as I test the soreness.
“Here, sweet human, let me help you,” comes a deep, masculine voice from the doorway, catching me by surprise.
I suppress a gasp and start to rise from the bed, only for Tornn to hurry forward and place a hand on my shoulder, forcing me to remain in place.
“I’m sorry if I scared you.” His eyes are warm, and he’s holding a clear jar that’s filled with an orange substance. “I’m late getting back, and I thought you might be asleep, so I was careful to keep my footsteps quiet.”
I focus on the jar. “What’s that?”
“A numbing salve.” He guides me onto my stomach, then slowly draws up my gown and pulls my panties down, baring my bottom. “Let me rub it into your sore cheeks, sweet human.”
“Okay,” I whisper, touched by the gesture. Also shocked.
He gives me a tender look and caresses a hand through my hair, and I’m not sure what to think. But I like this side of him. I’ve seen glimpses of his gentle side before, but this is by far his most compassionate gesture. I’d gotten the marks on my bottom because I’d planned to disobey him, but now that I’ve paid my penance, he seems eager to alleviate my discomfort.
I watch as he opens the jar and scoops out a generous amount of the orange salve. A minty scent fills the air. After setting the jar aside, he creates a lather with his hands and the substance becomes thicker but also translucent.
He settles beside me on the mattress and starts applying the salve to my cheeks with the softest of caresses. My throat suddenly burns and I’m not sure why. And my arms are itching again. It’s taking all my self-control not to thrash around and start scratching them.
Hm. Maybe later I can rub some of the numbing salve onto my arms.
Tucking this thought away, I try to enjoy the sensation of Tornn massaging my ass. The soreness fades until there’s no pain left.
“Feeling better yet?” His eyes flicker with more warmth, and dammit his sweetness might make me cry. He’s taking care of me the way Nathan used to if I was sick or overly fatigued after a long day of teaching. He’s beingkind.
“Yes,” I whisper, “the pain is gone. Thank you, Tornn.”
He doesn’t smile, but the warmth that lights his eyes takes my breath away. He gives a light tug on the sleeve of my dress. “Let’s get this off you so you can go to bed.”
My throat burns as he guides me into a sitting position just long enough to pull the gown, which is bunched up around my waist, over my head. It’s not until his eyes widen that I realize my blunder. I should’ve turned the lights down so he wouldn’t notice the scratch marks on my arms.
His nostrils flare and his jaw tenses, though he appears more shocked, perhaps even a tad confused, than angry. He grasps my upper arms and pulls me closer as he inspects the markings, running a gentle hand over the redness that mars my skin. His eyes widen and he sits back, absently rubbing a hand over his upper chest.
“What happened?” he asks with a nod at my arms.
I shrug and give a brief shake of my head. “I’m not sure. My arms have been itchy for the last few days. I’m probably allergic to something.” My mouth goes dry when his eyes flash as though he’s about to scold me or accuse me of something, but I can’t imagine what I might’ve done wrong.
