Part 7 (1/2)
when he realized just how ridged her body had grown.
Her tense fingers were barely able to wrap around his. ”I'm afraid my muscles are protesting my prolonged confinement.”
He attempted to comfort her. ”A steaming hot bath after all this is done should set things right for you.”
She sighed and in her weariness and need to remain alert she teased him. ”You tempt me yet again, my lord.”
He laughed softly, admiring her ability to joke in this awkward situation. ”I have not even begun to
tempt you, Sarina.”
”The solvent, sir,” Bernard called out.
”I'll be right back,” he said, and with a gentle stroke of his hand to her waist he floated down.
”Dagon,” she called to him anxiously. ”Please hurry back.”
His feet touched the stone when he said teasingly, ”Miss me already, do you?”
”I miss you terribly,” she said on a whispered sigh.
”I'll rescue you, Sarina, on that you have my word,” he said with a chivalry that seemed long since gone.
”If only you were the one who could,” she whispered softly and sniffled back her tears.
Margaret warned him that the solvent had to be dissolved in hot water that was sprinkled with a liberal mixture of herbs. She advised him that she would prepare a tub to soak Sarina in once she was removed from the chimney.
Bernard raised an eyebrow, though Margaret did not find it odd when Dagon ordered her to prepare his tub for Sarina. She immediately took herself off to do as directed. Bernard remained with Dagon to help him.
Dagon had a.s.sessed the situation while he had talked with Sarina. He knew exactly where the solvent needed to be rubbed on her to free her, and he wasted no time in sending the bucket upward with the crook of his finger.
He instructed Bernard to remain close by and then floated up near Sarina. He managed to work himself close enough to her to be able to reach the pertinent areas and he quickly dipped his hands into the thick greasy mess that thank goodness did not smell as bad as it looked.
”I'm going to coat your body with this solvent and slip you right out of here,” he said, making sure she understood why his hands were about to become intimate with her. ”Ready?”
”I trust you,” she said without hesitation.
Her simple remark affected him much more than he was prepared to admit, and he made a concentrated effort to focus all his attention and emotions on the task at hand. He worked his goop-covered hands up the front of her blouse, sc.r.a.ping his knuckles on the rough bricks that held her prisoner. He coated her ribs and placed gobs of the solvent on her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, ma.s.saging the thick goop over every inch of her chest.
He repeatedly sunk his hand into the bucket to retrieve more solvent and continued to concentrate on his ch.o.r.e. He worked the solvent over her stiff arms, and she occasionally moaned when he touched a sore muscle.
”I'm sorry if I hurt you,” he said, having moved himself closer to her so that his hand could reach farther up. His head now rested on her hip while his hand worked a thick portion of goop over her tightly wedged shoulders.
”You're not hurting me,” she rea.s.sured him. ”Actually, your hand feels quite good on my-” She paused a moment as if weighing her words. ”Stiff muscles.”
He tried not to think of how good her b.r.e.a.s.t.s felt in his hand. The soft mounds fit his palm just perfectly, but this certainly was not the time for such sensuous thoughts. He was rescuing her not ravis.h.i.+ng her. But still, she did feel so very good.
He focused on her shoulders and down her back, which was the most difficult part of her to reach. His hands worked their way down a little more roughly than he intended, and she moaned.
It was not a suffering moan. It was a responsive moan, one that responded most satisfyingly to his touch.
He ignored the soft ache that issued from her lips and ignored his own l.u.s.ty ache. He worked heavy gobs of the solvent again over her shoulders and down her arms. He ma.s.saged a good portion over her neck to protect her skin when he attempted to dislodge her.
Then his hand fought his way up her backside, squeezing the firm flesh harder than he had intended. His intimate action elicited another moan that left little doubt to either of them that his hands were causing her sensual havoc.
He worked as fast as he could, warning himself that she was exhausted and in her fatigued condition her body instinctively responded without thought or reason. He didn't bother to consider that his own body had responded out of plan, old-fas.h.i.+oned desire.
”Almost finished,” he said and roamed his hand slowly over her body, making certain the solvent covered all the necessary places. It was a methodical task, though it took on the intimacy of a lover acquainting himself with a new partner, and this time they both moaned.
”Please, hurry, Dagon,” she pleaded. ”This ordeal has become unbearable.”
He had to agree with her, though he remained silent and finished the task with a hasty hand that t.i.tillated all the more. He promised himself he would free her and leave her in Margaret's care. He swore he would, he vowed he would, he d.a.m.n well knew he wouldn't.
”Sarina,” he said gently. ”I'm going to slowly ease you down toward me. If I tug too hard or you feel any pain, let me know.”
”I'll be fine,” she said, her voice sounding a bit stronger, though it quivered.
With a swipe of his finger he sent the bucket to land gently on the ground and wiped his goop-covered hands on his sweats.h.i.+rt. He then positioned his hands below her hips on her thighs were there wasn't as much goop and tugged slowly. He had trouble getting a solid hold and grew annoyed. Knowing his only choice was to grasp on to something solid and free of the solvent, he ran his hands beneath her skirt.
”Sorry, but I need to get a good hold of you,” he said, explaining his intimate intrusion. His fingers rushed up her legs and caught on the edge of her lace panties. He cursed his fumbling fingers and the l.u.s.ty thoughts that invaded his senses and finally grabbed a solid hold of her thighs.
”Please do whatever you will,” she pleaded softly.
Her words begged for release, and he pressed his forehead to her hip as he took a calming breath. Only this b.u.mbling witch who haunted his every thought and intruded upon all his senses could turn a difficult situation into an erotic one. With a groan of annoyance Dagon gave a gentle tug and he felt her slip. Only slightly but still her body moved. He tried again, and again her body slid a little way down the wall.
He called down to Bernard. ”It's working! Tell Margaret and be ready with the blanket.”
”Yes, sir!” Bernard shouted, and Dagon heard him rush out of the room.
He then directed himself to Sarina. ”This may take a little time. I don't want to rush and hurt you.”
”I'm all right, really I am. I'm just very tired and stiff.”
”Margaret has a hot bath waiting for you, keep your mind focused on that.”
She sighed. ”Oh, yes, I will do that. A hot bath, how wonderful.”
Dagon worked her down inch by inch, moving slowly down the chimney with her. He heard Bernard return, and he hastily told him that all was in readiness for Sarina.
Dagon kept himself focused, a difficult task since as they made their way down, the chimney widened and she began to slip down his body. Her limbs were rigid from her long confinement, and she could not move them at all.
”I feel so helpless,” she said when finally she was free and her head came to rest on his chest.