Free Hers To Cherish (Verdantia Book 3) by Patricia A. Knight

uncomfortably in his chair and she leapt back, dropping the jar. Ram tried not to growl. He didn’t hit women – well, not unless they were armed and swinging at him.
    “I am not going to hit you.”
    “But it is very painful, Sir, I would not blame—”
    Ram tried very hard not to growl. “I am not going to hit you. Resume.”
    From her reaction, he hadn’t soothed her fears. With a silent nod, Pansy sank back in place on her knees. She treated his arm the same way as his hand, stopping when she got to his shoulder. Capping the jar, she leaned back, eyes downcast.
    “You should notice improvement in an hour or so, Dominus . If it pleases you, I will do this again in another three hours.”
    H is hand already felt better. Whatever was in the cream quieted the hysterical nerves. Now instead of a host of flesh-devouring insectoids, there were only a few dozen. “Thank you. Come torture me again in three hours.” Ram eyed the young woman, thoughtfully. “Have you treated your face with this?”
    “Oh, no, no, Sir. I assure you, I wouldn’t do that. The ointment is not for my use.” Pansy immediately knelt forward and shrank lower in obeisance.
    “I require you to use that cream on yourself until you are healed.” Ram kept his voice as neutral as possible.
    “ Oh! Yes, Sir, I didn’t think. Of course it cannot be pleasing to look at me.”
    “No, that’s not – ” He closed his eyes and inhaled, letting it out slowly. “Thank you for your service, Pansy. Please see to Steffania and come back in three hours. Make sure both of you eat and drink something.”
    “Sir ,” she acknowledged. Head downcast, she slowly rose from her knees and left the room.
    Gods! Give him a certain sarcastic, tempestuous, insolent, disobedient—and self-sufficient—redhead. What could any male find attractive in someone so submissive and subservient as Pansy? He just found it draining. What the fallout from Steffania’s whipping would be, Ram didn’t know. But if Strom Kella had broken Steffania, he’d break Strom Kella. The last bastard who fucked with those under the protection of Ramsey DeKieran was cosmic dust. He had seen to it personally.

Chapter Five
     
     
    Seventy-two hours later, an almost completely recovered Steffania stood at the front door to the villa and impatiently watched for DeKieran and Pansy to return. Steffania had lived in hell the first twenty-four hours. Her back had felt as if molten lava bubbled on it and every small movement tripled and quadrupled her agony. The ointment Pansy soothed on Steffania every three hours around the clock worked miracles. But, Steffania’s barely muffled screams of torment during the initial applications had drawn a grim-faced Ramsey to her bedside. He had held her tightly to his chest, cradling her and murmuring words of encouragement through each brutal ordeal. Somehow, his presence had given Steffania comfort and the strength to endure the treatments. I wanted to be strong for him. How pathetic is that?
    The ointment that worked such miracles on Steffania’s back did the same to Pansy’s face. The petite slaaf was stunningly beautiful and worse, lit up from within when in Ramsey’s presence. Steffania rolled her eyes. She looks at him as if he’s a fricking god. The doll-like beauty could not do enough for Ram, leaping to anticipate his needs and worshipping quietly at his feet in between times. Like a faithful pet. Gratitude to Ram for her rescue filled Steffania, but she couldn’t ever picture herself fawning over his every need. She needed sexual submission to satisfy her own particular appetite for carnal fulfillment, but she’d never be any man’s slave.
    Ram had not slept in the bed with Steffania since the day of the whipping. Other than holding her for treatments the first twenty-four hours, Ram had remained remote, aloof, ordering her to stay in the bed and recover. And truly, why would he need her? The horny bastard has the shrinking violet. She