Cap 01

His hair was almost always neatly coifed, long bangs arranged to frame his face just so. They hardly ever fell into his eyes, seeming to contain a natural bounce to them. It was only when the silk of his hair was matted down with sweat, that his hair lost it’s neatness, became just a tad messy. A wash of brown could be seen, strands going every which way, some being plastered over his one eye giving him a rakish look.

It made her want to reach up and touch that rich mahogany colored hair, let her fingers ease back his bangs in a gentle manner. She’d never do it of course, Lenneth was reluctant to do anything that Lezard could misread as a sign of affection. But sometimes, when he was hovering over her, body thrusting away between her legs, she was tempted. She yearned to feel the texture of his hair, was ready to give up a small fortune to know just what it would feel like rubbed between her fingertips. And all she had to do was stretch out her hand….but the humiliation of giving him even the slightest victory over her held her back.

Hair wasn’t the only thing she desired to touch. Lenneth long to explore the contours of his face, feel out the smoothness of his skin when freshly shaven, or the raspy stubble he wore when first awakened. She’d trace her fingers over his lips, explore them in a way her tongue could only sneak quick tastes of.

Everything she did was on the sly, her hands on his body rough, unyielding. She’d give anything to run her hand down his chest, a lazy exploration of the lines of his body. Lezard wasn’t as sharply defined as a warrior, but they were there, just waiting for her to brush her fingers against. Instead she shoved at him, thrilling at the forbidden contact of her palms on his shoulders, Lenneth crying out in a disgust she no longer felt, making a show of shoving him away.

Lenneth often wondered when it happened….when had Lezard become something more to her, something other than captor and abductor? She couldn’t explain it, couldn’t understand the rush of warm feelings that were aroused in her when she thought of him. Just like she couldn’t deny there was a spark of affection between them, a certain fondness she had for the man, even as she berated herself for giving in even if it was only in her mind.

She couldn’t hate him, not anymore, though she kept up appearances as best she could. But sometimes she slipped up, and Lezard found her staring at him with a funny half smile on her face. That was always embarrassing, and it grew increasingly difficult for her to explain away such instances. And yet she still stared, something like utter fascination in her eyes.

She watched him make love to her, saw his every expression, the twist of his lips as they curved upwards in self satisfied smiles, the darkening of his eyes as they filled with desire. She caught every groan, every moan as they slipped past his open mouth, watched as he gazed down worshipfully at her. It was only when he smirked, when he gazed at her through half lidded eyes, that she realized she had been caught staring once again.