hand, staying as far from him as possible. Once she did however, he put his arm around her waist as if it belonged there.
She held her breath, and peered down to his hand. He’d touched her before; he’d handed her books from tall shelves as his fingers grazed hers, lifted her as she mounted her mare, and even carried her across mud puddles when it rained. But his steady hand on her waist, pressing low against her belly, felt remarkably different. His touch warmed her from the inside, and surprisingly she wanted him to keep his thrilling contact on her belly all night. She even wished he’d explore more of her, by rubbing up her arms or down her legs. But he didn’t, and because she wanted his still hands to move with such desperation, she had a hard time falling asleep.
Katja almost dozed off when he roused her. Possibly, he thought she was sleeping when he whispered: “I keep dreaming of my village burning down with my two young kids inside our home. I was trying to save them when the king’s men captured me. I lost a quarter of my army that day, only to find out my wife was already dead and it was a trap.” That was all he said, and she was glad he didn’t divulge more. For some reason she didn’t like hearing he had a family in his previous life. He was the first man she’d come across, but she wasn’t the first woman he’d met. She closed her eyes and wondered if she should say she was sorry that he saw more hardship than anyone should have to endure, but he slid her to his chest and breathed warm air on the nape of her neck, taking any comfort he needed. Katja was pleasantly surprised how much she loved her slave holding her while they slept, and soon drifted to sleep with the warmth of his body. As she hoped, he slept soundly, too.
“I CAN DO THAT, Annett.” Katja said to her servant as she put ointment onto her slaves back. Katja didn’t like another woman touching him, even if Annett had white hair or vowed never to love another man when her partner died after forty years of happy life with him.
Katja took the stinky ointment from Annett and excused her from the room. She waited until Annett left before she faced her slave, but didn’t look him in the eye. She shyly waited for him to turn around.
“Your branding is almost unrecognizable, and your back is mending nicely. Your skin is pink and tight, but other than that it looks perfectly healed.” She dipped her finger into the ointment and smeared it onto his largest scar that felt tough.
“I’m mending nicely, besides all the scars.” He contradicted.
“Yes, but they don’t look too bad.” She lied. Truthfully, the old, puffy wounds that covered his back were painful to look at—a true eyesore.
“They look better than being dead.”
She was surprised that after seeing so much, and losing everything he still valued his life. She wondered what he had to look forward to in his bleak future. “You’re a slave. You exist to serve me. How can you find pleasure in that? I would think you hopeless, and not view the days ahead as positive.”
She rubbed his back, and slowed her fingers when she realized how much she liked touching him. Holding her all night had an effect on her. Katja daringly smeared ointment to his side, and the only part of his back that was smooth and soft. For a moment, she closed her eyes and pressed her fingers into his sides before drawing them toward his spine. She liked his thick body, and tall build.
When she opened her eyes, she watched him turn his head, and glance in her direction over his shoulder. “I’m your slave, yes, but one day you will be mine.”
She took a step back from him, and didn’t hide her offence. “I would never be a slave to an inland warrior. You’re a traitor. I hear you’re not even a man. I don’t know what you are, but you’re not human.”
“Trust me. I’m a hot-blooded man like every other in this world. I will rule you, and all that I ask in private you’ll
She held her breath, and peered down to his hand. He’d touched her before; he’d handed her books from tall shelves as his fingers grazed hers, lifted her as she mounted her mare, and even carried her across mud puddles when it rained. But his steady hand on her waist, pressing low against her belly, felt remarkably different. His touch warmed her from the inside, and surprisingly she wanted him to keep his thrilling contact on her belly all night. She even wished he’d explore more of her, by rubbing up her arms or down her legs. But he didn’t, and because she wanted his still hands to move with such desperation, she had a hard time falling asleep.
Katja almost dozed off when he roused her. Possibly, he thought she was sleeping when he whispered: “I keep dreaming of my village burning down with my two young kids inside our home. I was trying to save them when the king’s men captured me. I lost a quarter of my army that day, only to find out my wife was already dead and it was a trap.” That was all he said, and she was glad he didn’t divulge more. For some reason she didn’t like hearing he had a family in his previous life. He was the first man she’d come across, but she wasn’t the first woman he’d met. She closed her eyes and wondered if she should say she was sorry that he saw more hardship than anyone should have to endure, but he slid her to his chest and breathed warm air on the nape of her neck, taking any comfort he needed. Katja was pleasantly surprised how much she loved her slave holding her while they slept, and soon drifted to sleep with the warmth of his body. As she hoped, he slept soundly, too.
“I CAN DO THAT, Annett.” Katja said to her servant as she put ointment onto her slaves back. Katja didn’t like another woman touching him, even if Annett had white hair or vowed never to love another man when her partner died after forty years of happy life with him.
Katja took the stinky ointment from Annett and excused her from the room. She waited until Annett left before she faced her slave, but didn’t look him in the eye. She shyly waited for him to turn around.
“Your branding is almost unrecognizable, and your back is mending nicely. Your skin is pink and tight, but other than that it looks perfectly healed.” She dipped her finger into the ointment and smeared it onto his largest scar that felt tough.
“I’m mending nicely, besides all the scars.” He contradicted.
“Yes, but they don’t look too bad.” She lied. Truthfully, the old, puffy wounds that covered his back were painful to look at—a true eyesore.
“They look better than being dead.”
She was surprised that after seeing so much, and losing everything he still valued his life. She wondered what he had to look forward to in his bleak future. “You’re a slave. You exist to serve me. How can you find pleasure in that? I would think you hopeless, and not view the days ahead as positive.”
She rubbed his back, and slowed her fingers when she realized how much she liked touching him. Holding her all night had an effect on her. Katja daringly smeared ointment to his side, and the only part of his back that was smooth and soft. For a moment, she closed her eyes and pressed her fingers into his sides before drawing them toward his spine. She liked his thick body, and tall build.
When she opened her eyes, she watched him turn his head, and glance in her direction over his shoulder. “I’m your slave, yes, but one day you will be mine.”
She took a step back from him, and didn’t hide her offence. “I would never be a slave to an inland warrior. You’re a traitor. I hear you’re not even a man. I don’t know what you are, but you’re not human.”
“Trust me. I’m a hot-blooded man like every other in this world. I will rule you, and all that I ask in private you’ll
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