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Demos replied, but I couldn’t make it out. His words belonged to me and me only. I growled. He was mine!
He was too far away, so I reached out for him, found his chest, and laid on top of him. He was warm. He was home. I smiled against his skin, and reached down and found his cock as the window of awareness closed once more.
I was hungry again. Not for food but his mouth. His seed. I glided my fingers into his hair, which had grown, and pulled him to me, taking his mouth. My tongue drank from his, and I moaned, wiggling my body. I wanted him again.
He pulled away. “Sierra, it’s time to get up.”
“Uh uh,” I said, pulling his face closer to mine. “I need you. Fill me up.”
“Sierra, it’s time to get up.”
I stretched and turned my body to his, but he wasn’t beside me. “Where are you?”
“Come, it’s time to leave the nest.”
I pouted and opened my eyes. Demos was standing at the edge of the furs—our nest, like he’d said. He was dressed in tight breeches and a thin linen tunic. His beautiful skin was covered. I growled.
Much to my dismay, he smiled. I’d never seen Demos with clothes on while smiling, and the sight had me smiling back at him. But he was dressed, away from me. I growled again.
“I don’t want to go anywhere, Demos. You are mine. My sun. Come lie down with me.” I shut my eyes again. I was too tired to move. The thought of a bath crossed my mind when I brushed aside a thick lock of hair off my face. The strands were stiff, matted with oil and what felt like dried sap. Even my skin was sticky. Yuck, I thought. But I didn’t have the energy to care.
“No, Sierra. Come. It is time.”
“Time for what?” I knew I was whining but, by the gods, I didn’t like his words. He needed to come to me.
I heard him sigh. “Fine.”
I smiled into the furs, knowing I’d won, then let out a whelp as he lifted me into his arms and carried me away.
“No. No! I don’t want to go anywhere! Put me down.” I gave him a look, but he was stubborn. His mind was set, his eyes straight ahead, not looking at me.
Sunlight hit my eyes and I winced at the pain. My head felt like a thousand knives were cutting into it. “Why is it so bright?”
“Because we are no longer in the shade. Just keep your eyes shut. We’ll be there in a minute.”
I groaned but managed to speak. “And where is that?”
“Here.”
“Yeah, that’s so helpful, Demos.” The light behind my eyelids dimmed, and I took the risk of opening them. We were inside what looked like a house, rustic and small. The air smelled of herbs and freshly baked bread and something hearty and hot, like stew or soup. It was cooler in here than outside, and blessedly darker, with just enough light to not stab my eyes.
Demos carried me to a giant tub filled with soapy water. He lowered me into it and I sighed. I stretched out my legs and leaned my head back. The water was just the right temperature—not too hot, but not warm either. I had no idea how sore I was until the heat penetrated my muscles. My womb, my lower back, my thighs, everything ached, but the water was like a potion, working its magic.
“Lean forward,” Demos said softly.
A thick sponge rubbed against my back, releasing a pleasant scent. I closed my eyes in bliss. After he washed every part of me, he poured a pitcher of water over my head and started working a rose-scented lather into my hair. His fingers massaged my scalp, making my toes curl under the water. I sighed, growing sleepy.
That is until he started combing my hair.
“Ow!” I pulled away from the torture.
“I apologize, but your hair is a tangled mess. I will try to be gentle.”
Not convinced but trusting him anyway, I leaned back. This time the tresses went through the comb easily. My eyes grew heavy again, and I must have fallen asleep, because I woke up on a soft surface, several feet off the ground. A bed.
Demos stood beside me as he massaged oil into my arms, before moving his warm, strong hands over my legs and feet. When he got to my stomach and breasts, shyness overcame me. His movements slowed.
“How do you feel?” he asked, looking away.
