here's the next chapter sorry it's short.
X: Thief's Scars
He could feel her body tremor as he licked the pulse point behind her ear lobe. He felt himself grin in satisfaction as her body felt the reaction for the first time.
'Good.' He found himself thinking possessively. It was such a basic move, and she had reacted so startled by it; in fact, she was frozen at this moment unable to think of what was happening. He was strangely happy to reaffirm his assumption that she inexperienced and untouched.
'Not for long.' He growled to himself as he moved his hands from her wrists to her back. He quickly ignored the fact that he had meant to ask more questions of her. Instead, he put his arms around her and pulled her body tightly against his own.
His hands moved over her back and through her hair as he continued to tease her pulse point behind the ear.
"St—stop." she gasped loudly as she pushed against his chest. Her face flushed deeply as she felt him leaning over her yet again. He was warm against her, and his tongue was very talented.
His hands reached up to her shoulders and moved her silky hair away. He traced the smoothness of her back.
Suddenly he stopped moving and pulled away from her. He looked at her face. She was looking away from him with a slight flush on her face because she knew what he had found.
Moving carefully and softly, Ramses sat up and shifted so that he was behind the woman. He put his hands on her shoulders to hold her still and then gently brushed her hair over her shoulder.
Without speaking, his fingertips lightly grazed over the thin pale scars that crossed on her back above the neckline of her dress.
"Children caught stealing in Thebes are often whipped as punishment." Seshafi mumbled softly trying to hold back her pain at the memory and the acknowledgment that the scars would never fade. She was nothing near so beautiful as Amisi or anyone else here, and those scars proved it. They also proved that she didn't belong here; that she was something else and didn't belong in this beautiful palace with rich food and fine luxuries.
Ramses didn't answer, and she couldn't see his face. He couldn't see hers either, but he did see the tense way she held her muscles. He had heard the old pain in her voice.
He wanted to comfort her, to keep her from hurting anymore. She wasn't a thief anymore, and she would never punished as such again; no matter what she thought about being here.
Gently he bent his head to brush his lips lightly against the scars on her back. There were perhaps thirty of them, and they crossed and overlay each other on the otherwise smooth surface of her beautiful skin. The scars themselves were old and faded. The skin color's difference was only slightly noticeable and only from up close, and the oils and lotions that Matala had been using for the past week had helped the scars texture diminish so that it was only a little rougher than the rest of the skin.
Seshafi had expected him to mock her for getting caught once when she was young. She had expected him to shove her away in disgust. She had expected him to laugh at her for being so much less than his other perfect women. Instead he had very softly kissed her scars sweetly.
Startled at first by the completely unexpected sympathy and gentleness, she had relaxed after a moment and accepted the strange relief he was providing. She began to feel less pained with the memory and more comforted by his decision to stay with her instead of pushing her away.
After a while Ramses sat up again removing his lips from her skin. He pulled her gently back until she was leaning against his broad chest. He looked down at her face and saw that the pain had faded, and there was only the slight blush or embarrassment left. He sighed and draped his arms across her shoulders. He placed his face in the bend of her neck and deeply breathed in the scent of her long silky hair. She smelled of lilies he thought, and he found her scent to be very soothing.
They were both content to sit there in the comfort of his warm embrace for a while longer. Presently though, she became nervous of his closeness again, and she tensed restlessly.
He sensed her discomfort and after a another moment of soaking in her warmth, he sat her upright and dropped his arms from her slim shoulders.
"You may go if you wish." he said offhandedly as he leaned back against the high back of the couch. He wasn't dismissing her, nor was he telling her to stay. He left her the choice.
Seshafi stood up carefully and walked toward the door. She opened it and took a step out, but she paused for a moment in the doorway.
She wanted to say something; what? To thank him perhaps; for not scorning her and pushing her away as she thought he would.
She couldn't manage to speak the words so she simply left closing the door softly behind her.
Ramses watched her go silently. When she had stopped and stood there for a moment, he had thought hopefully that she had decided to stay, but instead she simply left again. Once the door was shut, he had sighed loudly and ran his fingers through his short hair staring at the ceiling.
He was beginning to wonder more and more about her. He hoped that soon she would stop fighting him so hard and simply come. He had thought he would enjoy the game for longer than this, but he was beginning to see that he didn't want to play with her. When he had held her tonight, trying to give her silent comfort and erase old hurts, he had truly wanted to help her and to stop her pain. He had foolishly hoped that she would turn to him, but instead she had simply walked away without a single word.
He sighed again. He could still feel the warmth of her in his arms and her smell was still strong in his thoughts. He stood stiffly and took up his cup swallowing all of the wine easily before leaving the small sitting room and retiring to his bedchambers alone.
Seshafi lay awake for nearly an hour that night unable to sleep. It seemed that every time she closed her eyes she saw his face looking at her. Sometimes he wore that arrogant smirk or that smug grin. Other times she saw the soft comforting face he had had this night when he had held her so softly.
She turned over hugging the warm sheets to herself. She could still feel the kiss from that morning in the library. She still felt the tight way in which he'd held her then. And then later, when he had teased her with his tongue against her pulse point before softly laying kisses along the length of her back.
She sighed heavily and buried her face into her pillow trying to forget. Trying to forget not only the touches and the strange mixture of annoyance and anticipation it had brought her, but also the warmth and the sweetness of how he had comforted her; of how he hadn't turned her away.
He wasn't so arrogant then. She thought to herself. He was almost...kind. She rolled over irritated with her thoughts and memories and forced herself to fall asleep.