Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 101280 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 506(@200wpm)___ 405(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101280 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 506(@200wpm)___ 405(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
Neither option seemed very appealing, although the idea of letting him touch me all over with those big hands wasn’t completely unattractive. As long as he would be gentle, instead of brutal like so many of my customers who shoved their fangs into my flesh, heedless of my muffled cries of pain, I thought I might be able to stand being with him like that. Although, to be honest, I was never going to like being bitten—I’m just not into pain and biting hurts.
Still, being bitten by the huge Baron might be better than being shoved out into the cold again. Even though I had only been there a few hours, I had almost gotten used to being warm. I didn’t want to feel like I was right on the edge of freezing again.
It’s one of the most miserable sensations in the world, never being able to get all the way warm. I don’t think anyone who hasn’t lived through a really rough winter without adequate heating can understand that. I know I certainly didn’t get it until I was kidnapped from hot, humid Florida and dumped onto the frozen ball of ice that was O’nagga Nine.
So I was a bundle of nerves as the door opened, wondering what was going to happen to me.
To my surprise, Vik’tor didn’t order me to get my things and get out or to bare my throat for him. He came back into the room holding a large bowl carefully between his hands. He brought the bowl over to where I was sitting in the wingback chair and knelt before me—he was surprisingly graceful for such a big man.
“Um…what—?” I began to ask but he cut me off.
“Let me see your arms again. Right one first,” he ordered, holding out his hand.
Not sure what was happening, I sat forward and extended my arm to him. He took my wrist gently but firmly and turned it palm up.
“Pull up the sleeve for me,” he told me.
Mutely, I did as he said, revealing the mass of bruises and old bite scars which showed as white lines on my brown skin.
Vik’tor shook his head and I thought I heard him mutter something about “assholes” under his breath. Then he dipped into the steaming bowl and pulled out a strip of cloth. The steam that rose from it was sweet-smelling and faintly floral.
Carefully, he wrapped the warm, damp cloth around my wounded arm, starting at my wrist and going all the way up to the elbow. He was gentle and extremely thorough, making certain to cover every single spot where I had been bitten or bruised in my time as a Blood Whore.
“Um…what are those?” I dared to ask after he finished the first arm.
“Healing wraps infused with tinsa blossom-oil,” he informed me as he started on my second arm. “They’ll make short fucking work off all these bites and bruises.”
“They will?” I looked down at my right arm as he wrapped the left one. Sweet Jesus, if he was right and the wraps really would heal my arms, that would be so nice. I had gotten so used to the constant aching and pain in them that I almost didn’t notice it anymore—until I laid down and tried to sleep, that was. But it would be wonderful to be pain free for the first time in six months.
“They should heal you almost immediately if Earth physiology isn’t too different from Braxian or Naggian physiology,” Vik’tor rumbled.
It seemed almost too good to be true but actually, I did think I could feel the wraps working. There was a tingling sensation all up and down my arms and the faint floral scent seemed to get stronger, as though the medicine was somehow targeting the worst areas.
“How long do I leave them on for?” I asked, as Vik’tor finished my second arm.
“They’ll fall off when they’ve done their job,” he said dismissively. “But we’re not done yet.”
“We…we’re not?” I looked at him uncertainly.
“No, we’re not, little girl. Because your arms aren’t the only place you’re hurt.”
“What?” At first I genuinely didn’t know what he was talking about.
“Here.” Vik’tor parted the red robe, uncovering my legs and thighs and I bit back a gasp.
“Hey!” I protested, scrambling to make sure the robe didn’t part too far and reveal my crotch. Then I saw he was pointing at my scraped knees.
“Where you fell in the tunnel,” Vik’tor rumbled. “I’ll heal these too—all right?”
“Oh, um, sure—I guess.”
I was really glad that I’d used the laser depilatory I had found in the bathing chamber on my legs and armpits right about now. I had seen one only once before—one of the other Blood Whores had one because a client who liked her had given it to her as a present. Having my legs feel nice and smooth after six months of not shaving had been my only thought as I used the one I found in Vik’tor’s bathroom, though. I had never imagined he would be kneeling at my feet, spreading my robe open to heal my wounded knees.