Vulcan's Woman (11 page)

“Wisteria,” he growled. He reached down and tickled her
knee. “I think I’ve created a monster.”

She squealed and knocked his hand aside then quickly sat up,
pulling a pelt over her shoulders. She loved his playful side, his serious side
and would possibly even grow to love his Barbarian side.

She smiled adoringly as she roamed her eyes over his face
and upper body. On the outside of his arms, just below his shoulder, she
spotted moon-shaped indentations from her fingernails. Traces of blood had
risen to the surface of his skin and one scratch had actually bled. “Oh Vulcan,
I’m so sorry.” She lightly brushed her fingertips over the marks.

He gave them a sideways glance. “Like I said, I’ve created a
monster.” He grinned. “Don’t fret, sweetheart. What are a few more battle
wounds?”

That remark initiated a complete, frontal, visual inspection
of his nude body. He had minor scars on his chest, stomach and thighs she’d
failed to notice earlier but now, feeling more at ease with looking at him, she
missed nothing. Unfortunately the worst lesion she discovered was the wound on
his forearm where he’d cut himself. For her.

That regret would undeniably bother her for the remainder of
her life. She sighed and lifted his arm to her lips where she kissed it, as the
mothers from her clan did to their children’s injuries. “Why, Vulcan? Why’d you
cut yourself on my behalf?”

“I wasn’t letting Grunt anywhere near you.”

“But it’s only fair. Do unto others.”

“No way. Not an option.” He sat up beside her and kissed the
top of her head then began running his fingers through her hair, starting along
the base of her scalp. “I’ve seen him severely hurt people while seeking
vengeance. Man or woman, he doesn’t care.”

“But it isn’t vengeance if not performed by the victim,
right?” she asked, pulling her knees to her chest. His fingertips snagged a
knot near the base of her neck. She winced, scrunching her shoulders.

“Sorry, sweetheart.” He gently removed his hand and, little
by little, carefully separated the strands. “I can deliver the punishment for
my people if I choose to. In this instance, I didn’t give it a second thought.
You did nothing unjust to Grunt.”

“I could have seriously hurt him. I had no business stealing
your blade.”

“I ordered him to seize you. Despite escape deserving its
own form of punishment, you acted in self-defense, and in my eyes, you did
nothing wrong.”

“Let Birmon heal your wound. Maybe I won’t feel as guilty then.”

“He wants nothing to do with my blood.” Vulcan leaned
forward and again kissed the top of her head. “Don’t feel guilty. I would’ve
done anything to protect you from Grunt.”

She rested her chin on her knees and closed her eyes while
Vulcan resumed running his fingers through her hair. Inhaling a semi-content
breath, she relaxed. She loved having her hair fondled. Even at times when Ivy played
with it, Wisteria had fallen asleep. “You can do this all night along,” she
said, patting a yawn.

“There are other things I can do all night long as well,” he
whispered in her ear. “It’s becoming impossible to keep my hands off your
beautiful body.”

Prior to meeting Vulcan she’d never been attuned to her
appearance. It just wasn’t important. Strangely she desired to look nice now. For
him. She wanted to fit the description of
beautiful
as he’d envisioned
it. She’d seen her reflection in the lake but an ordinary woman glared back.
She couldn’t even see her eye color. Vulcan said they were blue but she didn’t
possess any striking traits like Jade.

“Vulcan, how does Jade remove the hair from her legs?”

His fingers stopped filtering through her hair. “She shaves
with a special tool. Why?”

“Can I do the same?”

“The hair on your legs is sun-bleached and barely visible.
You don’t need to shave.”

“But her skin is so smooth it shimmers in the firelight. I
want to be beautiful like her.”

“You already are.”

Her cheeks warmed. “I don’t feel like it.”

“Would you like to see just how beautiful you are?”

She scrunched her brows. “How?”

He stood and walked to the crate. She watched his naked
bottom flex and her insides heated instantly. Minutes later he returned,
holding his hands behind his back, and knelt down. “Look in here. It’s a
mirror,” he said, lifting a round object in front of her face.

She needed a moment to gather her breath because she’d just
had her eyes on his penis, and her insides were rejoicing and coming alive.

She inhaled a mouthful of air and glanced into the object.
She touched the face of the woman staring back. “That’s me?”

“Yes. Now do you believe me? Look at your eyes.”

They
were
the color of the sky as Vulcan had
indicated. Her lashes were long and dark, the same shade as her hair.

Her skin was a little darker than her mom’s and Ivy’s,
having spent many hours in the sunshine by the lake, but not as dark as
Vulcan’s. She puckered her lips and watched her features contort into a funny
face.
That
wasn’t very pretty at all. She stuck her tongue out and tried
touching the tip of her nose but it wouldn’t reach. She tried again, stretching
it as far as she could, but failed. She opened her eyes wide then squinted then
flared them open once more. Nor was
that
very pretty. She giggled.

Vulcan laughed while removing the mirror from her fingers
and he lowered it to the ground. “Now you’ve seen what I see,” he said.

“Do I always make those expressions?”

“No. The ones I see are curious, or angered, or afraid.” He
paused, drawing his mouth close to hers, and nibbled on her bottom lip. “Or
glowing with arousal.” He kissed her, slipping his tongue briefly between her
teeth.

A smooth, fluttery sensation trickled from her chest to her
belly, intensifying as she closed her eyes.

He separated the kiss and placed his mouth to her ear. “As
it is now,” he continued in a voice slightly higher than a whisper. “And as it
was when I watched you touch yourself at the lake.”

Her eyes popped open. Her heartbeat escalated in
embarrassment. Should she respond or bypass the statement completely? Thank
goodness Loo-La had shown up that day or he would’ve seen the outcome and that
could’ve been a lot worse.

“Do it now, Wisteria,” he goaded, his warm breath cascading
along the side of her neck. “Touch yourself for me.”

If watching her from a distance mortified her, she couldn’t
imagine her reaction if he watched her up close. Somehow, some way, she needed,
no,
he
needed a distraction. “Can I shave my legs first?”

“You’re serious?”

“Yes.”

“It’s horrible timing, but if it’s what you really want.”

She nodded. “I do.”

“Okay, shaving it is.” He pushed his hands off his thighs,
stood up and dressed in the loincloth. “I’ll be right back.”

When he left the hut she picked up the mirror and observed
herself again, making numerous faces, but she couldn’t see beyond her inflamed
cheeks.

Vulcan laughing at her back startled her.

“Like what you see, sweetheart?”

Additional warmth rose from her neck to her face, tainting
her cheeks to a deeper shade of red. She dropped the mirror.

“Don’t be embarrassed. I can’t take my eyes off you either.”

If he only knew the extent of her shame.

“Come here by the waterhole,” he said as he sat down,
setting three objects on the ledge.

“Where did you get all this stuff?” she asked, ogling the
items as she crawled beside him.

“They belong to Jade. She’s letting us borrow them. This,”
he lifted the first object, “is a tube of shaving cream.”

How odd.

He set it down and picked up the second item, which was
filled with pink liquid. “This is a bottle of lotion.”

Hmmm.
Even odder.

“And this,” he raised the third object, “is a razor.”

“That’s crazy.” It was the oddest-looking of them all.

A flowery, refreshing, clean scent breached her nose. She
inhaled deeply and closed her eyes. “What’s that smell?”

“It must be the lotion.” He lifted the bottle, took a sniff
then held it beneath her nostrils. “Is this it?”

Gosh, it smelled wonderful. Like a meadow full of flowers
and berries. “Yes.”

“That will be the scent of your skin when we’re finished.”

She opened her eyes. “What should I do first?”

“Give me your leg.”

“I can do it,” she stated rather frankly, although she had
no clue as to what to do.

“I’ll show you how,” he said, draping her leg over his lap
and positioning her foot on the center of his thigh. “You need to be really
careful because it’s easy to cut yourself. Nicks made with this type of blade
bleed a lot.”

She watched carefully as he dunked his hands in the water
and moistened her lower leg. She shivered from the cold and tightened the fur
around her shoulders.

“Would you like me to heat it over the fire?” he asked while
he filled his palm with white stuff from the tube.

It grew in his hand right before her bulging eyes. “No, it’s
okay. I bathe in cold water every day.”

He grinned. “It’s foam. It expands,” he explained as he
rubbed it on her shin and spread it from her ankle to her knee.

It was very slippery and soft, not at all what she’d
expected.

“This may feel a little strange,” he warned her right before
he slid the razor along the side of her calf.

“It tickles.” Not in a funny manner but in a tantalizing
way. Nearly as intrusively pleasing as his tongue and lips had been when he’d run
them all over her body last night. Her eyes snapped closed and she chewed her
bottom lip as the vision consumed her.

As he dragged the razor up and down, removing the cream one
strip at a time, she gasped and sucked in a mouthful of air.

To her dismay the motion stopped. “Would you like to try
now?” Vulcan asked.

“No. Not yet.”

“Then scoot closer so I can reach your thigh.”

She nodded and situated her bottom between his legs while he
guided her sideways into a workable position. Both legs were draped over one
thigh while her lower back rested against the inside of his other. Not too
uncomfortable but interesting.

Another dose of cold water flowed over her skin but this
time it ran over her clitoris and vagina. She gasped and her eyes popped open.
“Vulcan!” She didn’t mean to shout but it’d caused a shock. In a good way.
Mmm.
A very good way.

“Sorry, sweetheart.”

He didn’t look sorry. Actually his smirk indicated he’d done
it on purpose.

She tilted her head back and as she adjusted to the cold,
thrilling awakening he began spreading the cream on her thigh. To the center.
Then higher. So high his fingertips brushed the skin surrounding her vagina.
She was still too sensitive for that type of play but it tingled and she
wiggled her bottom on the ground. “Mmm, I like shaving,” she said on the trail
of a sigh.

“Do you now?”

“Mm-hmm.” Much more than having her hair toyed with.

She squeaked when he grazed her private area again, right
before the razor slid up the inside of her thigh. She looked at his face only
to discover another smirk.

A languid graze of his finger to her clitoris caused her hips
to flinch upward and she shuddered. From the corner of her eye she saw the
outline of his hard cock pushing against the loincloth.

“Don’t move too much, sweetheart. I don’t want to cut you.”

“Then stop touching me.”

He maneuvered the razor until the shaving cream had
disappeared and she was grinding her hips on the ground from all the attention
he’d paid to her female parts.

“Other leg,” he whispered, nuzzling his face into her hair
and biting her ear. “Flip over.”

Just as she fully opened her eyes and started to rise, he
lifted her as if she were no heavier than air and resituated her between his
legs.

He quickly cleared her lower leg of hair then he slowed down
the process when he reached her thigh. He brought his opposite hand forward and
used it as a vise to spread and hold her legs open. It was those fingers, those
large, aggressive, impatient fingers that slid inside her folds and massaged
her clitoris.

Her lids fluttered closed and she tilted her face upward.
Within the obstruction of her vision the sensations grew stronger. Along with
every tiny bump of the razor grazing her shinbone she felt a finger slip deeper
inside her vagina. He mimicked the motion of the razor, up, up, up then down,
down, down, then up once more a little faster, only to repeat the finger penetration
during the next strip. Slow penetration. Agonizingly slow. By the time he
finished and applied the lotion to her legs, she was drenched and mindless with
desire.

“Wisteria?”

“Mm-hmmm?”

“Give me your hand,” he said, lifting it before she had the
chance.

Not a thought crossed her mind as he lowered it between her
thighs. Not until he guided her index finger between her folds and held it
flush against her clitoris. Her eyelids flew open.

“It’s okay,” he assured her. “Either close your eyes or look
into mine.”

She utilized the least painful option and closed her lids
but she stiffened to the point her shoulders ached and her spine dug into his
leg.

“Relax,” he soothed, maneuvering her fingertip in circles.
“Just relax.”

Her shoulders slightly collapsed and her hips began to move
in a miniscule rotation.

“That’s it. It doesn’t matter who’s touching you, it still
feels good.”

She listened to his intake of air. Little by little his
breaths increased, the rushed air thumping in her ears. It was the sound he
made when making love and she realized how desperately he must want her now.

The discovery flourished inside her like a blossoming flower
and it became her goal to see how far she could take him.