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“Yes! Take the socks off,” I cheered.
“You don’t have a weird foot fetish, do you?”
“You think foot fetishes are weird?” My smile grew as she slipped one sock off and waited. “The other one, too. They are a pair.”
She rolled her eyes and pulled the other one off, tossing them over by her shoes. She pulled the brush from my grip as she passed, and moved toward the table. The book I held earlier sat crooked and half off the edge.
Air passed in a whoosh over her lips as she blew the dust off the cover. Particles of the powdered dirt misted into the air before her. “Now that you’ve had two freebies, let’s try this.”
“Done.” I took the book and stepped through the pockets of space that didn’t exist for other people and appeared in the desk chair. I opened the novel and flipped through its pages. Boring, blah blah blah, some fantasy tale filled with humans and violence.
“Have you been practicing without me?” Ryker almost looked offended at the idea. Her fingers skimmed over the edge of her shirt.
My eyes lingered on the skin above her pants, trailing over the dip of her tapered waist, and up to the nude colored bra as she lifted the shirt over her head. Her gaze narrowed.
“Is this prize enough for you?”
I blinked. Every time I saw her, her curves filled out even more. The more she trained, the more her muscles grew, the more nutrition filled her body, the fewer ribs I could see and the greater her bust filled out. She was everything, and she was only half naked.
“You’re beautiful.” I smiled. Honestly, I could be content to look at her for the rest of the day.
Ryker brushed off the comment and looked around the room. I set the book down on the desk curious as to what she could find that was the next step up. She jerked to a stop as she looked around the dresser and pointed to the bed.
“Moving the bed is quite a big jump, don’t you think?” I tipped my chin.
“Not the bed.” She bent down to her knees and reached under the bed. “This.” She dragged out a small chest from under the bed. She held it up over her breasts, hiding the nearly naked bit of her as best she could.
That would be harder to move…but if I could do it, she would have to lose one more bit of clothing. I’d gladly take another chance at worshiping every subtle curve of her body. Sighing loudly, I walked across the room and took the chest. Not only was it large, it was quite heavy too. A testament to her growing strength.
“This could be tricky,” I mumbled. Then I looked at Ryker and the way she folded her hands over her chest. She might be feisty, she might have good banter, but she was not confident about her body. A shame considering she was so pretty. Maybe my prize for progression wouldn’t do her much good.
I gripped the edge of the chest and held it to my stomach. The familiar static-y magic feeling danced over my skin and I willed it over the box. The magic could have easily stretched I found, but I didn’t let it.
As I shaped back into reality next to her, I could hear part of the box clatter to the floor where I once was. Letters, weapons, and worthless knick-knacks spilled out the side of the chest into a pile at my feet. I set it down with a fake frown.
My fingers reached for the button of my jacket. Ryker’s gaze snapped from the chest to my face to my hands. I lifted a single eyebrow as I shrugged the jacket off.
“Well, this won’t do me any good anyway,” I whispered and began unbuttoning my sheer shirt underneath. “Two for the price of one.”
With a laugh, I threw my shirt at Ryker. Her attention had begun sweeping over my body. “Stop looking at me like that.”
“Isn’t that how you look at me though?” She took a slow step forward. Her hand lifted, calloused and scarred, to run her fingers over my chest and the dip of my abs. Despite the roughness of her hands, the feeling of them tracing over me was pure luxury.“Your skin is flawless.”
She saw every nick of her skin as a blemish, whereas I saw it as another piece of her. Another perfect piece. It made sense that she hated the markings since she hadn’t asked to be punished with such severity.
I skimmed my fingers over every scar. As delicately as I could, I traced their lines on her torso and the top of her shoulders. Her mouth parted, her breathing quickening.
“Do you not think you are lovely?” I asked.
She smiled softly. “I’m not ugly, but I’m still not sure how I snagged the attention of someone as handsome as you.”
“Is it the scars you don’t like?”
“I hate them. They ruined my body.”
The quiver in her voice made me squeeze my eyes shut for a moment. I wanted her hurt to be erased. Watching her, I lowered myself to a scar along her shoulder, the place where a whip had come too high, and pressed a kiss to it. “How can I convince you otherwise?”
I could feel the slightest tremble that traveled through her at the touch. I wanted to chase that excitement, I wanted to make her scream in pleasure. But not yet, I reminded myself. First, she needed to love herself like I loved her.
