like that,” she muttered, then felt
her cheeks grow even hotter as he opened the book and began to read aloud.
There are ways to
feel love
to touch
and taste love
I feel her
with my soul
I have tasted her
kiss
with a simple breath
filling me
moving across my
heart
she touches
…so lightly
sending waves of
pleasure
that pulse through my
core
she lifts my pain
…with her gentle
laugh
a simple ‘hello’
and my eyes fill with
her sparkle
there are ways to
feel love
…sharing a fear
holding a thought
…flowing in the
softest silence
where only the soul
hears
always with me is
she…
thank you…my angel
for loving me….
He looked at her over the edge of the book, one dark brow
raised, and then he turned the page and began to read again.
His voice was low and husky, mesmerizing, making her wonder
what it would be like to have him read those same words to her, and mean them.
my whisper slips past
hiding desire
holding it fast
this need to have
this want
to feel
listen as you
move…
taste as you moan
I want you
please just once
let me know your
passion
take me into
your sweetest hold…
our whispers mix
with the night
let’s dance
with pleasure
see if the love
covers as words
push inside
I love you
you know this is
true…
so be with me
let
me
have you
Falkon swore under his breath as he closed the book and
tossed it back to her. If there was one thing he didn’t need, it was wasting
his time reading romantic poetry to remind him of what he was missing, what he
had lost.
Ashlynne caught the book, almost dropping the controller as
she did so. It occurred to her that remaining in Number Four’s presence was the
most dangerous thing she had ever done, far more dangerous than going swimming
at midnight with Magny, or sneaking into the mine compound. There had been a
door between them at the mine, nothing stood between them here but a few feet
of space.
It filled her with a sense of daring, being this close to
Number Four, even as she assured herself there was nothing to be afraid of as
long as she had the controller. Remembering how quickly Number Four had turned
on Dain, she hadn’t put it down for a moment. It gave her a sense of power,
rather like the feeling she had when she rode Artemis in a headlong gallop down
the beach. The mare was bigger, stronger, faster, yet she controlled it.
Number Four’s bold stare made her suddenly uncomfortable and
she took a drink of water from the glass sitting on the rock beside her.
Watching him over the rim of the glass, she saw him lick his lips and it
occurred to her that he was probably thirsty. It was unseasonably warm, and he
been working out in the hot sun since early that morning.
Slipping off the rock, she stood and held the glass out
toward him. “Would you like a drink?”
“No.”
“You must be thirsty.”
“I don’t want anything from you or your people,” he said
brusquely. “Nothing except my freedom.”
“You’ll never be free again.”
“And you’ll never be anything but a spoiled, arrogant brat
with too much time on her hands.” He watched her cheeks grow red, felt himself
tense in dreadful anticipation as her hand tightened on the controller. “Go
ahead, do it,” he challenged, and wondered what perverse devil had goaded him
into saying such a thing.
Ashlynne’s thumb hovered over the top of the controller, but
the memory of the pain Dain had inflicted on Number Four stayed her hand,
though why she should care if this odious creature suffered was far beyond her
comprehension. He was a slave, after all, an enemy to her people, to everything
fine and decent. Surely he deserved whatever he got.
Nevertheless, that one moment of hesitation took the fire
from her anger. With a wordless cry of annoyance at her own weakness, she flung
the contents of the glass in his face.
He glared at her, water dripping from his nose and chin.
Damn, in his own
her cheeks grow even hotter as he opened the book and began to read aloud.
There are ways to
feel love
to touch
and taste love
I feel her
with my soul
I have tasted her
kiss
with a simple breath
filling me
moving across my
heart
she touches
…so lightly
sending waves of
pleasure
that pulse through my
core
she lifts my pain
…with her gentle
laugh
a simple ‘hello’
and my eyes fill with
her sparkle
there are ways to
feel love
…sharing a fear
holding a thought
…flowing in the
softest silence
where only the soul
hears
always with me is
she…
thank you…my angel
for loving me….
He looked at her over the edge of the book, one dark brow
raised, and then he turned the page and began to read again.
His voice was low and husky, mesmerizing, making her wonder
what it would be like to have him read those same words to her, and mean them.
my whisper slips past
hiding desire
holding it fast
this need to have
this want
to feel
listen as you
move…
taste as you moan
I want you
please just once
let me know your
passion
take me into
your sweetest hold…
our whispers mix
with the night
let’s dance
with pleasure
see if the love
covers as words
push inside
I love you
you know this is
true…
so be with me
let
me
have you
Falkon swore under his breath as he closed the book and
tossed it back to her. If there was one thing he didn’t need, it was wasting
his time reading romantic poetry to remind him of what he was missing, what he
had lost.
Ashlynne caught the book, almost dropping the controller as
she did so. It occurred to her that remaining in Number Four’s presence was the
most dangerous thing she had ever done, far more dangerous than going swimming
at midnight with Magny, or sneaking into the mine compound. There had been a
door between them at the mine, nothing stood between them here but a few feet
of space.
It filled her with a sense of daring, being this close to
Number Four, even as she assured herself there was nothing to be afraid of as
long as she had the controller. Remembering how quickly Number Four had turned
on Dain, she hadn’t put it down for a moment. It gave her a sense of power,
rather like the feeling she had when she rode Artemis in a headlong gallop down
the beach. The mare was bigger, stronger, faster, yet she controlled it.
Number Four’s bold stare made her suddenly uncomfortable and
she took a drink of water from the glass sitting on the rock beside her.
Watching him over the rim of the glass, she saw him lick his lips and it
occurred to her that he was probably thirsty. It was unseasonably warm, and he
been working out in the hot sun since early that morning.
Slipping off the rock, she stood and held the glass out
toward him. “Would you like a drink?”
“No.”
“You must be thirsty.”
“I don’t want anything from you or your people,” he said
brusquely. “Nothing except my freedom.”
“You’ll never be free again.”
“And you’ll never be anything but a spoiled, arrogant brat
with too much time on her hands.” He watched her cheeks grow red, felt himself
tense in dreadful anticipation as her hand tightened on the controller. “Go
ahead, do it,” he challenged, and wondered what perverse devil had goaded him
into saying such a thing.
Ashlynne’s thumb hovered over the top of the controller, but
the memory of the pain Dain had inflicted on Number Four stayed her hand,
though why she should care if this odious creature suffered was far beyond her
comprehension. He was a slave, after all, an enemy to her people, to everything
fine and decent. Surely he deserved whatever he got.
Nevertheless, that one moment of hesitation took the fire
from her anger. With a wordless cry of annoyance at her own weakness, she flung
the contents of the glass in his face.
He glared at her, water dripping from his nose and chin.
Damn, in his own
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