Chapter Eleven
It was nearing the end of summer when Nor returned to his castle and wife. The happy slave greeted him with loving arms, and scooted him to bed. She needed his potency spewing inside her, the remembrance of his fragrance, the salty tang, the sweat, the musk and the perfume of the out of doors and the dank earth in her nostrils. She was filled with him, roving his body that night on memory, even though it seemed like forever since they’d been in bed. There had been other longer absences, but this one was more unsettling than those others.
“How have you fared, sir?” Casia spoke only after their loins had locked twice within an hour. She was passionately worn out.
“I always fare well,” he answered her.
“You look worn.”
“So I am. This business sometimes exhausts me.”
“Do
