Lezard's hands were on her, gentle and caressing, fingers clutching a pale yellow wash cloth. That towel moved against her skin, soap bubbles sliding down her flesh as he scrubbed her clean. Lenneth turned her head, looking at him, seeing the intense look of concentration on Lezard's face as he bathed her. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbow, the edges of it wet from where it dipped down into the tub.

Water sloshed over the sides as he moved, Lezard kneeling in the puddles, uncaring of the water that soaked his legs. He was focused, intense concentration solely on her, lifting up her arm, stretching it out towards him. The wash cloth glided across her skin, past the bend in her arm and down to her wrist. He took the time to wrap the towel around each of her fingers, before allowing her to drop her arm back into the tub.

Lezard leaned over her, body brushing hers, reaching for her other arm. Lenneth wordlessly handed it to him, silent and watching as he set to the task of cleaning her skin. He was different during this time, so gentle as though fearing she would break under his attention. A stark contrast from the times his baser desires would take hold of him, Lezard pulling her down, forcing her struggling body onto the bed, the sofa, the work table...

She was never far from his side, Lezard almost desperate to keep her with him at all times. Lenneth came to value the quiet stolen moments awarded to her in his absence, knowing they would never last, not for very long. Even such a simple, private thing as bathing was denied to her, the necromancer insisting on helping her in her task of getting clean.

He treated her like a doll, his special play thing Lenneth mused, staring dully at the hand that was caressing her front. The soapy towel glided over her breasts, disappearing into the water below. She was his cherished possession, a treasured captive whose every need was taken care of, an object of intense affection and desire.

The towel was on her waist, skirting down lower and lower. Lenneth didn't protest this, knew at this time Lezard would behave himself, intent on his self appointed task of keeping her clean. He detested dirt, prided himself on his cleanliness, fastidiously seeing to Lenneth's bathing rituals. If only the smut he stained her soul with could be wiped away just as easily.

Lezard was urging her to rise, to stand before him in the tub. His hands gripped her waist, helping her to her feet, watching as the water dotted her skin, fat drops that slowly slid down her flesh. The towel touched her legs, with the same care and attention he had shown the rest of her body, his glasses fogging up from the steam rising up off the water.

Water splashed on her legs, easing down the soap bubbles. They were almost finished, Lezard nearly as wet as she, the man uncomplaining as he reached for her. Lenneth wrapped her arms around his shoulders, felt Lezard press her against him as he lifted her out of the tub. Her hair clung to her back, wet and sticking, and she stared down at his chest as he moved her. Carrying a dripping Lenneth out of the bathroom, Lezard paused only long enough to grab a towel.

Lenneth listened to the sound of his footsteps on the carpet, muffled though they were. They were back in his bedroom, Lezard bringing her towards the armoire. It was there before it that he set her down on the floor, wrapping the fluffy towel around her body. Her arms came up, fingers clinging to the soft material, holding it in place over her breasts.

Lezard turned to the armoire, opening the doors, muttering to himself as he shifted through a selection of clothing. Lenneth didn't know why he bothered to dress her, the outfits never stayed on her for very long. It was as though he couldn't control himself, couldn't keep from descending upon her like a wild animal.

Silk finery was held up to her, Lezard eyeing her critically, judging how the dark silk would look like against her pale skin. The dress was discarded, tossed carelessly on the floor, as he selected another. This one he deemed suitable, his fingers reaching for her, her towel dropping to the floor to lay crumpled at her feet. Snaps were undone, the laces of the corset carefully pulled out of their metal loops. The dress was tight around her waist, expensive material with ruffles and ribbons adorning her sleeves and the frame around her breasts.

Numerous skirts, sheer petticoats were slid up her legs, Lezard's hands starting to linger on her thighs. Lenneth trembled in response to his attention, body quivering as she recognized the look in his eyes. She could see the fight for control dancing across his face, muscles tense as he led her towards the bed. Lenneth sat down on the edge, lifting up her skirts, legs revealed to him. He knelt before her, hands touching her calves, a white stocking being eased over her toes. Up it went, silky smooth and teasing against her skin, raising goose bumps on her flesh.

He stayed on his knees before her, Lezard's hand resting just above her knees. His fingers moved, caressing her through the stocking, and then he was abruptly standing. Face angry, eyes stormy, Lezard pulled away from her, leaving Lenneth confused. He didn't say a word to her, stalking away to the bedroom's exit, slamming the door shut behind him. Lenneth stared after him, heart beating faster, relief in her eyes.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

To Be Continued....

Michelle