“Netherhells, no!” Saleria gasped. That felt so good, both sensual and sexual at the same time, a heady mix of sensations. “I just . . . bed. Need to lie . . . bed. On the bed.”
Chuckling, he let go. At her pout, he patted her thigh and rose. “Pack up your bag, and I’ll give you more, I promise.”
“Both feet?” Saleria asked, considering his offer.
He grinned slowly. “All the way up your legs, if you like.”
Whirling, Saleria grabbed her things on the bed and started stuffing them into the shoulder pack. That provoked a laugh from her companion. Covering her hands with his own to stop her movements, Aradin pulled everything back out, then with quiet murmurs and little touches that combined demonstrations and caresses, he showed her how to fold, then roll up her clothes tightly to reduce the space they used.
Saleria had never considered such an ordinary sort of chore, like packing a travel bag, to have any potential for seduction before. It wasn’t just how he handled her corset-vest, either, though the sight of such masculine hands stroking the gathered cups as he folded and tucked did make her long to feel that same gentle, deft touch on her breasts. It was everything else, too. The care he took in making sure her trousers wouldn’t crease. The caress of his palm as he smoothed the sleeves of her formal gown.
Even the way he rolled up her socks and stuffed them into a pair of clean, nearly new ankle boots, adding them to fill the extra room that he had created in the pack, made her want those hands on her body instead. Inspired, Saleria let him finish the packing, applying her touches to him instead. While he folded in the sleeves of her spare summer-weight gown, she slid her fingers along his spine. When he rolled it up, she cupped his buttocks, enjoying the play of the muscles bunching and releasing under her touch.
Somehow, he got the extra gown in, too. It wasn’t easy; Aradin had known this shared moment of packing could be a seduction, but it was supposed to be a seduction of her, not of them both. Not of him. Heat flooded his muscles everywhere she touched, tensing and releasing them, only to leave them with a slight shiver as the warmth of her fingers moved on. Standing there in just his undertrousers, no tunic or pants to hide his reactions, he carefully folded the flap of the pack, lifted it off the bed, and set it on the floor near his cloak.
She squeezed his rump when he straightened up. Cheeks flushed with heat, he turned to face her . . . and found her hands sliding to cup the front of his hips. Losing some of his breath in a shudder, Aradin quickly covered her fingers with his own. “C-Careful,” he stammered, feeling the blood in his veins rushing inward from his extremities to meet those beautiful, bold hands. “Or I won’t be able to . . . concentrate . . . to massage your feet.”
TEN
Her fingers stilled. Saleria contemplated her choices. “Hmm. Playing with you, or getting a foot and leg massage. Playing with you . . .” Her fingers rippled briefly over his barely covered loins, testing the length and shape of him. The soft, deep sound that escaped his throat strayed somewhere between the ranges of a sigh and a groan. “Or a foot massage . . .
“Foot massage,” she chose, and pulled her hands free.
Another soft groan escaped him, part disappointment and part acceptance at her choice. It morphed into a deep breath as she unlaced and shimmied out of her trousers. The fabric hit the floor, and he sighed, studying the limbs revealed. “Oh, milady, I cannot fault your choice after all. Days and months and years of walking the Grove has left you with magnificent legs.”
She blushed with pleasure at the compliment, stepping out of her trousers, then stilled, frowning softly. “Wait a moment . . . didn’t you call that thettis-vine hybrid ‘magnificent,’ too?”
I am heartily glad Teral is not here to see that come back to bite me on the foot, Aradin decided. He gave her a slow smile, and a quick-witted reply. “I am quite certain that you will be just as deadly to me as any hybrid vine, the moment you wrap those lovely legs around my body.”
She gave him a blank look, not knowing what he meant.
“. . . Forgive me. I forgot for a moment how far I am from home.” Aradin held up his thumb and forefinger together a scant distance apart. “Darkhanans refer to sexual bliss as the ‘little death,’ because we believe it’s a tiny little taste of the bliss found in the Afterlife. I am therefore hoping that your legs, when wrapped around me, will be very deadly indeed.”
Caught off guard by his explanation, she laughed. Sagging from her mirth, Saleria backed up into the bed, then sat down. Her heart skipped a beat when Aradin stepped up to her, knelt, and took one of her feet in his hands. This time she was thinking of sexual bliss, and this time the sensations were stronger. Nerve endings on her feet somehow connected themselves up through her legs to her loins, up into her belly . . . even up to her breasts. It helped that he studied them, caught in their corset, making Saleria hyper-aware of his gaze, his touch, and her need.