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stopped. He passed Taric's belt back to him, but Taric merely took it, set it across his knee, and then pressed his fingers against her tear-stained cheeks. “You have such a pretty cry,” Taric told her in an affectionate, enlightened way, like he was watching a sunset rather than a naked girl who’d gotten her tail blistered.
    Draevan hadn't yet released her or let her up, but he rubbed his large palm over her skin before gently tracing a couple of the thick welts on her bottom with his finger.
    She couldn’t believe that these humans were touching her with their dirty hands, but yet there they were. She whimpered, fearing that too much protest would merely lead to more spanking, which was something she couldn’t take.
    “Damn beautiful,” Draevan said in a low, heady voice. His roving, rubbing fingers then found a place between her legs that hadn't been abused… Nor had it ever been touched; it was that territory reserved for the husband she never planned to have.
    “Oh…” The touch of his fingers made a low moan come out of her lips, which she immediately quelled. Her eyebrow puckered with confusion, and embarrassment continued to knot her stomach when she realized that she’d moaned loud enough for either one of these men to hear.
    “She's a responsive little thing,” Draevan informed his cousin. “Do you think we'll get an elf-wife that's this eager?”
    “I'm not eager!” she cried, humiliated beyond belief. “I don't want you to even touch me with your dirty, stupid, human fingers!” Her face burned as hot as her bottom.
    His fingers continued to delve deeper into her folds, his movement slick because of the moisture that had immediately appeared when his fingers first went that far south. She bit her trembling lip, squinting, unable to look into Taric's eyes once again and see the appraising look on his face.
    His finger stopped delving into her. “By all that's holy, Taric—she's a virgin!”
    “Of course I am!” She didn't know why she was furthering his excitement by saying that, because Draevan groaned with need. “Stop…” When Taric let go of her hands, she opened her watery eyes and saw that Taric’s nose was nearly touching her own. Without any further warning, he grabbed her chin in his hand and brought his lips forward to kiss her.
    No, kissing really wasn't what this was. His mouth pressed hungrily against her own, his tongue delving deeply into her mouth. She'd never seen kissing quite like that… But then, she had hardly seen any kissing at all in her life!
    Bite him! she told herself, but she couldn't do it. In fact, she felt her body soften over Draevan's firm thighs, her body coming alive in a way that it hadn't done before; it was as if she were a stranger in her own body. Her body simply wasn't doing what she willed it to!
    Taric pulled back, rubbed her cheek again, and said something in that stupid language she didn't know. Draevan quickly growled something in response; apparently not happy with something that was said. Taric's expression firmed as he looked up at Draevan and continued to argue until Draevan grumbled and she felt him let go of her.
    Taric helped her stand and then strapped his belt on as she tried to cover her breasts and her front at the same time. She looked up and narrowed her eyes at the men. “Are you quite done molesting me now?” she seethed.
    Draevan took her by the elbow, not firmly, but solidly enough to quell any ideas she might have been brewing up about running away. “Not by a long shot!” he huffed. “We're just saving you for our victory feast.”
    Her face paled. “You're going to eat me?” she gasped. She would believe anything from them at this point…
    “Well, we'll definitely be tasting you…” Draevan said, with mischief in his eyes.
    “Draevan,” Taric said reproachfully. As Draevan was rolling his eyes at the reproach, Taric reached forward by way of asking for her hand. When she didn't put it into his, however, he