To Love Again - Bertrice Small [94]
“I am a novice at such a task,” she said, “but I am glad I please you, my lord.” She rinsed him with a basin of warm water taken from the bathing pool, and he took the strigil from her hands. “I will scrape you now,” he said softly, plying the tool. Cailin stood very still as he moved the strigil gently over her delicate skin. She found this love-play rather charming. His restraint in claiming his rights was very reassuring. She sighed as he rinsed her, and turning to face him, she said, “Now, my lord, I will wash you before we enter the bathing pool.”
He stood in one of the hollowed mosaic shells in the floor. Cailin placed an alabaster jar of soft soap on the floor nearby and took up a sea sponge. Scooping some soap from the jar, she spread it over his shoulders, and then worked up a lather using the sponge. Slowly, carefully, she washed him, working in an efficient manner, turning him about as she knelt, adding more soap, scrubbing with the sponge. She blushed self-consciously as she bathed his manhood, but to his credit he said nothing, remaining quiet as she worked. Cailin stood, swirling the soapy sponge over his belly and up his broad chest. Finished, she rinsed him again with warm water, relieved the ordeal was over. She had never bathed a man before. Wulf had always washed himself, usually in the fast-running stream near the hall, even in winter.
“Now you may enter the bathing pool,” she told him.
“Nay,” he answered her, and took the sponge from her hand. “You must be washed first, my beauty.” Bending, he rinsed the sponge in the bronze basin, and tipping the dirty water out, refilled it with fresh.
“I can bathe myself,” she said shyly.
“I’m certain you can,” he said, laughter evident in his tone, “but would you deny me the pleasure serving you will give me?” Not waiting for her answer, he dipped his three fingers into the alabaster pot and began to slowly spread soap over her shoulders and back. The slow, circular motion of the sea sponge on her skin was almost mesmerizing in its sensuous movement. She thought she felt his lips touch the back of her neck, and then the soapy sponge swirled over it, leaving her confused. Kneeling, he washed her buttocks, kissing them first, and then moved on to her legs. “Turn,” he said, and she obeyed, although her body was already beginning to feel heavy with desire. How lovely all of this was. Bathing with a man was most pleasurable.
He lifted her left foot and washed it, then the right. The sponge swept slowly up her legs, which were tightly closed. Gently he pushed them slightly apart, the sponge sliding over her sensitive skin. Cailin turned her head and looked away. She was unused to seeing her Venus mont so pink and smooth, devoid of its little curls, but only men, peasants, and savages, Jovian had assured her, kept such body hair. A woman must be silken all over. Her stomach knotted itself as his hand rubbed soap over the quivering flesh. Cailin closed her eyes as the sponge rubbed round and round and round.
His hand gently drew her forward, and Cailin gasped, startled as his mouth closed over the nipple of her right breast. His teeth lightly scored the flesh; his tongue teased insistently at her; and then he suckled hard on the tight little nub even as his left hand caressed then crushed her other breast until her knees began to buckle. Standing quickly, he pulled her hard against him, his mouth finding hers with a burning kiss that left her breathless. Then his gray eyes held her in thrall as he rinsed her slowly, being certain that every bit of soap was washed away. Finally placing the basin down, he took her by the hand and led her down the steps into the bathing pool.
The warm water lapped softly at their bodies. Cailin felt weak in the sudden heat. Seeing how pale she was, he drew her against him again. When he felt her trembling, Aspar said softly, even as he began to place little kisses all over her face, “I do not want you to be fearful of me, Cailin, but you must know I want to make love to you.