The intake of her breath was softly audible in the space between them as his hand traced over her chin, soft and gentle caresses that were like mockery of the touch of a lover, and conjoined with his promise to hurt her, her shoulders shook with a soft shudder, and her head bowed, hands twisting in the thin cloth of her chemise, bosom rising and falling regularly within the confines of the leather bodice.<br/><br/>"My lord, I have learned but a little... I know some of kissing, and gentle touches... and I have been taught how useful my mouth can be to a man," she said, and did not try to disguise the note of bitterness that threaded through her words, a lingering echo of soreness still in her throat from the Baronet's rough use of it, even after the Elven woman's healing work.