“It felt good. She sighed, stretched just a bit, then remembered the night before and opened her eyes. She lifted the covers to see Trist curled next to her, his claws going up and down her belly. She petted him. “Where is your master?” Trist opened his eyes, looked at her for a very long time, then stretched and slithered out from beneath the covers. He sniffed the air. Hastings sniffed the air too. The air smelled of them. Of sex. She had smelled that before, but she hadn’t known, ...hadn’t really thought about it. She’d been a dunce. She’d been a blockhead. She pushed back the covers and rose. She was sticky. His seed, she thought, as she bathed herself in the pewter basin of cool water. Why had he left her? Why had he not awakened her so she could see to his morning meal? Perhaps this was the way men were supposed to behave after being with their wives for the night.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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