He probed her then, his finger pushing inside. Pain intruded on the pleasure. Her body rebelled, but he only pressed harder. She stiffened and opened her eyes. For a moment, she stared at the mask that covered his face. He’d told her not to do that, so she looked down into her lap.

  His hand moved beneath her skirts, still pushing. He appeared to be looking there too, as his gaze never met hers.

  Such an odd sensation, watching his fingers give her pleasure and pain. His chest rose and fell, visible under his robes. With a groan, he gave one more thrust of his hand, and something gave way. His finger entered her fully, and the pain stopped, only leaving a tenderness.

  He took in an uncertain breath. “No more pain. Do you understand?”

  “No.”

  “You are an innocent.”

  Heat crept up her cheeks, and this time it was embarrassment. She kept her gaze lowered and watched his hand continue to move as his finger slid in and out of her.

  He slipped a second inside her and stretched her. “Does that hurt?”

  “No. Well, a little.”

  “You’ll have a reward,” His thumb moved, not inside her but just above where he probed. All the pleasure came back with a jolt.

  A little cry escaped her throat.

  “Your first taste. Let me share it.”

  “Don’t stop. Please.”

  He continued moving his thumb, flicking over something that had grown hard.

  That was the center of the heat, the spot where her whole body hovered near something that would change her forever. She ached and burned, craving more.

  He didn’t stop, and soon the pressure of his fingers inside her added its own pleasure. She’d been empty her whole life, and now he’d filled her. She stretched to accept him, and the rhythm of his movements drove her higher while his thumb tormented her bud.

  Someone moaned. A woman’s voice. Her own, heavy with need. That she could make such a sound. So carnal.

  “Give it to me,” he whispered.

  “Oh, please,” she gasped. “I can’t.... Oh, please.”

  “Now,” His thumb moved faster and harder. “Now.”

  She soared to an impossible peak and then broke apart. Her whole body shuddered as she flew into ecstasy. Deep inside, she convulsed, gripping his fingers.

  She hovered in that state of perfection for several heartbeats and then collapsed in a heap against his chest. Gasping for breath and quivering. Inside her body, her muscles continued to flutter around his fingers.

  “Thank you.” Something pressed against her temple. His lips, soft and warm.

  She sighed and nodded before sleep claimed her.

  * * *

  She awoke in a huge canopied bed in a room overlooking the sea. Her history of Shandikar lay on the comforter beside her. She looked around and smiled when she found her trunk a few feet away. The lid was open to show all of the contents looking as they had when she’d packed them. The master had told the truth. He’d kept the storm from damaging her books.

  When she looked down at herself, she gasped. Instead of her dress, she wore a gown of lace so sheer it showed the pink of her nipples. Whoever had put her in this had seen her naked. The master didn’t appear to have servants. Had he undressed her? But then, he’d done something more than look at her the night before.

  Oh, my. How wondrous that had been. Who could have believed a mortal body could behave like that? More amazing, who could have guessed a simple touch could bring such pleasure? Wrong. There was nothing simple about the master’s touch.

  She reached between her legs and cupped the place where his fingers and thumb had sent her to ecstasy. Pressing with the heel of her palm, she could mimic the sensations but only in a poor imitation.

  Would he do that again? If not, could she find the courage to ask him for more?

  Well, she wouldn’t find out sitting here.

  She threw off the covers and climbed out of bed. Nothing covered the windows, but the sun shone down on the floor tiles and the breeze from the sea warmed her skin. How much cheerier than when she’d arrived. When she walked to one huge window, a completely different scene greeted her. Where the island had appeared barren yesterday, it now sported greenery and the colors of wildflowers. Below the castle, birds flitted from stone to stone, their calls floating up to her. How utterly beautiful.

  She looked around the room again and noticed a door in the opposite wall. When she opened it, she found a garderobe. After making good use of it, she re-entered the main room and gasped. The master stood not far from the foot of the bed. At his feet sat a metal tub full of steaming water. Such luxury.

  “You’ll bathe,” he said.

  He still wore his mask, but now the daylight gave her a clearer view of him than she’d had the night before. Perhaps she only imagined it, but he seemed straighter than he had. More vigorous, with broader shoulders. He’d folded up his sleeves, exposing his forearms, and his skin looked smoother. He’d been formidable by the torchlight. Today under the clear sun, he was even more so.

  “Get undressed,” he said.

  She put her hands over her breasts to cover them, but that left the hairs at the juncture of her thighs unhidden by the sheer lace.

  “Come,” he said. “I poured this bath myself.”

  “How did you do it so quickly? I was only in the garderobe for a moment,” And she hadn’t heard a sound the entire time.

  “I do what I have to do,” He crossed his arms over his chest. “The water’s get-ting cold.”

  It was a lovely bath and a great temptation. And he’d touched her very intimately the night before. She’d known when she’d set foot on his dock that he’d own her in any way he wanted. Still, her hands wouldn’t move.

  He walked to her until he towered over her. This close, she could make out the exact color of his eyes, a brown so light it might have been golden. What sort of creature owned her?

  “I will look at you and touch you,” he said. “Undress, or I’ll do it for you.”

  Some devil inside her made her lower her arms and stand still. His hand had felt so good the first time, why not invite more? A day ago, she’d never have allowed a man to touch her. He’d changed her last night when his fingers had moved inside her and his thumb had taught her body a new reality.

  She smiled. “You put this gown on me, didn’t you?”

  “No one touches you but me.”

  “Then you take it off.”

  The corner of his mouth might have curved upward. With the mask, it was hard to tell. He reached for the hooks that fastened her gown. When he’d opened enough, he lifted the gown over her head. She raised her arms to help him, and after a moment, the lace lay on the floor and she stood before him naked.

  Heat flared in his eyes as he studied her. The same heat that had risen between them as his hand had touched her most private places. He had new adventures planned for this morning, clearly.

  He took her hand and led her to the tub, where she finally lowered herself into the water. This was truly heaven. The heat wrapped around her, and all the while, the sun beat down on her shoulders and bird calls floated in from the outside.

  The master’s breath grazed the back of her neck. He’d kneeled behind her and lowered his hands into the water to fish out a bar of soap.

  “May I know your name?” she asked.

  “Raelen.”

  Raelen. She weighed the sounds in her mind. Mysterious and strong, they fit him.

  His hands made a sight as they worked up a lather. Long, elegant fingers, now steaming and wet from the water. She couldn’t look away as he dropped the soap and cupped her breasts. A whole new set of sensations claimed her— moisture, the slickness of the soap, the pressure against her nipples.

  “Beautiful,” he said, his voice low and dark.

  “They’re not as big as some girls’.”

  “Firm and round. Perfectly formed,” He stroked the nipples until they’d hardened to tight points. More sensation to wonder at. What else could he show her?

  His lips brushed the curve of her neck, just at the base where it met her shoulder, and that was a revelation, too. So gentle, no different in the pressure than an innocent kiss on the cheek. And yet it drugged her as completely as the wine had.

  Her eyes drifted closed, and she tilted her head. He took the invitation and caressed the length of her throat. The heat of the water against her skin, his hands on her breasts, his lips and even nibbles of his teeth on her neck — all so tender and so,

  well, hot.

  “If I hadn’t felt the barrier last night, I’d swear you’d had experience,” he said.

  “None,” she said. “I swear it.”

  “I believe you.”

  I was made for you. Born for you. There lay the entire truth of her life. She’d known that she’d dedicated her life to coming here to submit to the godlike creature who protected her people. She’d never imagined she’d put herself into the hands of a man who knew her own body better than she did. Who knew she’d surrender her being to his touch?

  “Did you enjoy last night?” he said.

  “Yes.”

  “Even the pain?”

  “Enjoy is an odd word,” she answered. “I welcomed it.”

  And that was true, too. If she grew a new maidenhead every morning, she’d gladly give it to him every night.

  “I won’t hurt you again,” He sighed. “At least, not in that way.”

  His hands stilled on her breasts, and they sat in silence while the words hung in the air around them. He’d hurt her. That shouldn’t seem odd. For all she’d known when she started on this voyage, he could have killed her and eaten her the night she arrived.

  “Lean forward,” he said after a moment.

  She did, and he found the soap again and rubbed it over her back. Aside from dim memories of her mother washing her, Elsbeth had never experienced anything like this. Someone devoting himself to her comfort. And comfort it was. They’d long passed anything required for cleanliness.

  “May I do this for you?” she asked.

  “You’ll do something else for me.”

  “Today?”

  “In a few moments.”

  Her heart fluttered. What could she do for him? Would it involve touching his body as he’d touched hers? If so, would he find her too clumsy to satisfy him?

  After he rinsed her back, she rested against the tub. His hands went roaming again, this time along her sides to her hips and then inward. She sat, not moving, and waited for his touch against her woman parts. When he covered her mound with his hand and squeezed, the sensations from the night before flooded over her.

  He’d lit a fire there, and over the hours since, it had cooled but not gone out.

  “Are you sore?” he asked.

  “No.”

  “There’s no reason to lie.”

  “Honestly, it feels—”

  His fingers pressed against the most sensitive spot, and she whimpered with need.

  “It feels wonderful,” she whispered.

  “Good. I have something else to show you.”

  Master of the Elements: Chapter 2

  Behind Elsbeth, Raelen rose and removed his fingers from the ache at the spot between her legs. She might have complained except for his promise of something new. Taking his cue, she also stood and stepped out of the tub. He bent to pick up a cloth from the floor and then rubbed it over her body, starting at her shoulders and downward. He dried her everywhere, even her buttocks and breasts. Even between her legs. When he’d finished, her skin glowed pink from the heat of the water and the friction of the cloth. Again he seemed to smile, although again the mask hid his expression.

  Finally, he took her hand and led her to the bed. She climbed on and waited to see what he’d do.

  For the longest time, he simply stared at her as if he could devour her with his gaze. After a deep shuddering breath, he looked at her face, his remarkable eyes searching hers for something.

  “Lie back, and spread your legs.”

  She obeyed and lay there, stretched open for his inspection.

  “Look up at the canopy,” he said.

  “The canopy?”

  “I’m going to remove my mask, and you will not look at my face.”

  “I didn’t last night, my lord,” she answered.

  “If you do it now, I’ll stop.”

  She stared directly above her. “I promise.”

  His weight settled on the bed, and soon his robes rubbed against her body. He’d gotten on top of her, although not with his full weight. The fabric felt smooth, and his warmth surrounded her. Oh, to be hovering just below the canopy and looking down. What a scene to witness—she naked and pink from her bath, covered by his big body and yards of black silk. Still, he’d told her not to look. On her word alone, she wouldn’t. But more because, whatever he’d planned, she wouldn’t do anything to make him stop.

  Something wet touched her breast. His tongue dipped to the underside and then circled over the top. The nipple ached, craving the same contact he’d given it earlier. But when his mouth closed over the tip and sucked it deep inside, it proved so much more. Her breath caught.

  He didn’t stop but continued, the heat and moisture of his caress drawing a stronger response. The throbbing started between her legs again, even though he didn’t touch her there. How could contact at her breast make the rest of her body catch fire? Her heart hammered and her breath came hard, and deep in her belly the

  tension built. The world retreated, sounds of bird calls and waves a distant whisper, the sun’s warmth a mere reminder. Nothing mattered but the feel of his robes against her skin and the tug of his lips against her sensitive flesh.

  When he released that breast, she might have cried from disappointment except that he gave the other nipple the same attention.

  Still careful not to look at him, she reached to the first breast and touched herself. As before, the tip had hardened, and the pressure of her own fingers sent a shock through her. She set her hand aside and instead concentrated on Raelen.

  He moved lower now, his hands skimming along her ribs as his tongue traced a path down the center of her body. His robes glided over her skin, stroking and heating it. Lower and lower he went until he covered her belly with tiny kisses.

  Although her mind would never have guessed his destination, her body knew. He meant to kiss her at the place where his fingers had worked such miracles the night before. It would take her to new heights and then shatter her into a thousand pieces.

  She’d need an anchor, someone to hold her to reality. She’d need a lover, not just a disembodied mouth, no matter how ardent. She’d need Raelen, but he wouldn’t let her look at him.

  As his mouth went farther, below her belly to her pelvis, she struggled to get air into her lungs for one last request before she lost her voice. “May I touch your hair?”

  He stopped moving and his body went rigid.

  “I won’t look,” Elsbeth said. “I only want to touch you.”

  Had she broken a rule? Would he leave her now without curing the ache he’d built within her?

  “You didn’t say I couldn’t talk,” she said. “I only asked you a favor.”

  “To touch my hair.”

  “Please. If you’ll let me.”

  He trembled. She didn’t even have to watch him to feel it. Saints, what had she done?

  “Yes. Touch my hair.”

  Ah, blessed be. He’d let her touch him. She reached down and found his head, then burrowed her fingers into the strands there. They held the same smoothness and heat as his robe. Now, he’d continue. He’d kiss that most sensitive spot, and she could stroke him while he did.

  He held still for a moment while she ran her fingers through his hair. Then his head turned and his lips grazed her palm. Only by reminding herself that he’d told her not to look at him could she keep her gaze fixed on the canopy above.

  Eventually, he moved again, sliding his body lower until his breath blew hot on her sex. When his mouth closed over it, she closed her eyes and opened her thighs for him.

  Whatever she’d imagined, this was so much more. Moist heat grazed the lips there, and the tip of his tongue even probed the spot where his fingers had penetrated her. Something this intimate must be sinful, and yet she’d come here to offer herself as a sacrifice to him. No one could judge her harshly, even if her sacrifice felt so good.

  His tongue moved upward and rubbed against that spot. She almost jumped out of her skin at the shock. So intense, so divine. Her hips moved, and he ran his arms under her thighs to hold her against his mouth. She held his head, her fingers tangled in his hair, while he continued tormenting her. Now flicking, now rubbing, he teased her until her breath came in shallow gasps.

  Her body took control, the tension building. Too much and yet not enough. His mouth would steal her soul, and yet she’d die if he stopped.

  He didn’t stop though. His tongue made firm circles over her bud as she climbed higher and higher toward the peak.

  Then he sucked her hardness into his mouth, and she snapped. The storm burst inside her, washing over her in waves. She sobbed as it took her, while the spasms shook deep inside her. All along her inner muscles clenched over and over again.

  Finally, weak and drained, she lay there, her eyes still closed. He moved away and she would have held him near, but her arms didn’t have the strength.

  After a moment, his lips touched her temple. The fabric of his mask rubbed against her forehead. He’d put it back on, so she opened her eyes and looked at him.

  He’d propped himself up on one elbow beside her, and his pale eyes studied her.

  “You liked that.”

  What an odd thing to say. “How could I not?”

  “Lusty thing.”

  “Is this lust?” People only spoke of lust as evil. How could something that felt so good be evil?

  “Lust as pure as starlight,” he said.

  “You say the strangest things.”

  He shrugged. “I’ve had a lot of time to think.”

  “Then I think I’m lusty.”