Read Online The Ritual by H. Anthe Davis, Erica Dakin - Free Book Online Page A

wasn’t aware that that stretched to my cleaning habits as well.”
    “Expeditiousness in everything, Little Firelocks.”
    “Yeah yeah, I’m nearly done.”
    I dried off and dressed quickly, wrapping a towel around my hair, then wrung out my wet clothes and slung them over my arm. As I opened the door I held it wide for him and gave an exaggerated bow. “Your majesty’s bath.”
    He raised an eyebrow, then sauntered past me with an amused smile on his face which disappeared when he saw the bathtub with its grimy water. I was walking out of the room just as he whirled around and glared at me.
    “I’d have emptied it,” I sniggered, “but someone was rushing me.”
    I saw him tug off his boot and closed the door just in time to hear it hit the wood on the other side.
     
    *   *   *   *   *
     
    When I had spread my wet clothes out in my room I returned downstairs and found Shani and Mior in the common room, bent over a bowl of stew each. It looked plain but smelled rich and spicy with a hint of something sweet, and the fragrance woke up my stomach again. I signalled Tae for a bowlful and plunked onto the wooden bench next to my sister. There was a tankard of ale waiting for me, but just one sip nearly made me spit it out again, and I understood that Mior hadn’t been teasing Tae about his ale – it really was undrinkable.
    “Ooh, look who smells all soapy,” Shani remarked with a grin as I still spluttered.
    “Not you, that’s for sure,” I replied, keeping my gaze fixed on the doorway to the kitchen, knife and spoon at the ready and hoping that the food would live up to its smell.
    She snorted. “Someone was hogging the bathroom.”
    “Don’t you start. Someone else is hogging it now anyway.”
    “He won’t be long,” Mior said as my food arrived, together with a good chunk of dark, crusty bread, still warm from the oven.
    “And this is a good thing? I needed a quarter measure just to get the sand out of my hair.” I speared a piece of meat with my eating knife and put it in my mouth, and a wealth of flavours exploded on my tongue. “Mennia’s Mercy, this is godly!”
    “Tae employs a good cook,” Mior agreed, squinting from me to Shani. “So if it takes that long for you, then how long do you need to wash your hair?”
    “Not as long as I need to dry it,” Shani replied, wiping her bowl clean with her last crust of bread.
    “No, I can see that,” Mior chuckled. “I’ll let you go before me then.”
    “Such gallantry!” She blew him a kiss, but I didn’t register Mior’s reaction, because at that moment Zashter walked back in, wearing nothing but his trousers.
    For several heartbeats I forgot about my food. His hair was wet and slicked back, emphasising his strong jaw and sharp cheekbones, and the dark curls on his chest invited the touch of questing fingers. I had already noted – all too often – that he was lean, with narrow hips and strong shoulders, but his sculpted abdomen exceeded my wildest fantasies, and his butt when he turned around and ordered his food made me want to feel it clench under my hands as I pulled him deep inside of me.
    I realised I was staring just as he turned around again, and bent over my stew to hide my flustered face. A quick glance to the side showed that, to my relief, Shani and Mior were too engrossed in each other to have noticed my lapse, but my resolve was tested further when Zashter sat down opposite me.
    He had indeed been faster than me, but no less thorough. He looked scrubbed and rosy, and his scent as it wafted towards me made me close my eyes and inhale it deeply. I was sure that the bathroom held only the bland, run-of-the-mill soap that I’d used, but on him it smelled so enticing that I wanted to lick him to see if his taste matched up to it.
    As I risked another surreptitious glance at his chest a girl sashayed out of the kitchen, holding a bowl of stew and a mug of the goat-piss ale. She was buxom and young, dressed