Read Online TICEES by Shae Mills - Free Book Online

trying to ignore.
    Finally, she parted from him, afraid of hurting him.
    Fremma let his head drop back to the pillows, wincing at his discomfort.
    Chelan moved away from him and ran to the en suite. She rinsed out a cloth with cool water and returned to him swiftly. Tenderly, she wiped his face and neck, relieved that his breathing was returning to normal.
    “You take such good care of me, my Lady,” he uttered, his eyes closed.
    Chelan smiled as she continued to dab at his forehead. “I ought to, you fool. As soon as I leave you, you try to get yourself killed.”
    Fremma looked up at her and smiled. “For a good reason, my Lady,” he answered quietly. He reached for her slender neck, and his fingers traced her scar. “It seems that neither of us was destined to walk through life unscathed.”
    Chelan smiled at him and then watched his face sober. His eyes followed down her smooth skin to her breasts, and she stilled. His hand moved stiffly to her shoulder, and she closed her eyes, feeling him slip the strap of her gown down. She was not sure what he was attempting, but she would deny him nothing as long as he did himself no harm.
    He went to reach for her other shoulder, but she ducked away from him and rose to her knees. Shyly, she slipped the strap off herself. She looked deep into his luminous eyes, the desire within them unmistakable. She peeled the gown down slowly and exposed her soft fullness to him.
    Fremma looked at her longingly. “Come here,” he whispered.
    Chelan oozed up beside him and kissed him softly on the lips. This gentle warrior had nurtured her from the beginning, sharing himself with her, easing her into his world’s ways. Through all their time together, their days of learning, laughter, and play, and their nights together bound by love, he had never, ever pushed her to engage in more than she was willing. Though they had shared so much, soaring through the heights of passion and wading through the depths of despair, she had never allowed him to give her that one, final, deeply intimate gift of pleasure. That act she had reserved solely for her Warlord, his Commander. But since then, she had promised Fremma all, an act of love so powerful she was nearly overwhelmed at the thought.
    He reached for her breast; his soft caress caused her to tremble. She stared at him as he gazed at her fullness, watching his own hand as he kneaded her tenderly, brushing over her hard nipple and forcing it to peak further. Then he silently urged her to move up the pillows, and she hugged into his head as his lips took her, suckling her exquisitely. She let her head tip back, her soft folds flooding with moisture and her body floating in ecstasy.
    Then her head snapped forward as she felt him touch her thigh, and she watched as his hand trailed slowly up her gown. She exhaled sharply, knowing he wanted to touch her at long last, though she feared for his wound. But his persistence quelled any feeble resistance she was able to mount, and she let her head drop back in desirous submission. When his hand slipped between her thighs, she parted her legs for him, allowing his fingers to dip into her moist, welcoming folds for the first time.
    Fremma was electrified by her readiness, and the feel of her silky wetness on his fingers seemed to rob him of all logical thought. The unhindered ease at which she parted for him severed his restraint and sent him beyond control. But as he drew in a deep and unconstrained breath, a dagger of searing pain ripped through his chest. He withdrew from her instantly, groaning as he clutched at his wound.
    Chelan pulled away from him, frenzied by his agony. “Shhh,” she cooed as she moved to cradle his head. She looked down at him, his contorted face tearing at her heart. She held him a long time until his breathing once again eased and his hand left his chest. When she felt he had recovered, she released him and drew her gown back up over her. “I see you are still a fool,” she