Chapter 92
I was almost ready to retire when the young warrior arrived back at the Mead and asked to wash up. I lay flat on my back so as not to snatch glances of his fine body since he left the door to the bathing room open. When he strode out to comb his hair before my dressing mirror, my eyes betrayed me. Lone Eagle was proud of many things, but none more so than his long black mane. Normally held in two braids, it hung below his shoulders when loose. I watched the play of muscles in his back and buttocks as he combed his glorious black crown into a shining mass.
He paused to watch me through the mirror. Abruptly, he threw down the comb and walked naked to the bed. Slowly he drew back the covers and fell on me. I sought to push him away, but he resisted my insincere efforts.
“No,” I said, but it was useless. I accepted him and was lost. He was relentless in pursuing what he wanted. His nineteen-year-old muscled body shuddered from the force of his release.