I mewed my triumph and moved up, taking his mouth.
He kept his fingers in my hair and wrapped an arm around me, giving it.
That studded tongue.
His taste.
I drank. I explored. I ravaged.
And then I got greedy, wanting more.
I took that too, tugging at his beard with my teeth, licking his neck, nipping his collarbone, drawing deep at his nipples, tracing the boxes at his belly with my fingertips.
I had made it to the waistband of his leather trousers with my lips before he hauled me up, guided my mouth to his and it was he who ravaged my mouth as he took possession of my hand.
And without delay, he pressed it into the waistband of his trousers and wrapped my fingers around his rigid shaft.
He grunted.
I gasped and broke our kiss, resting my forehead against his and gazing hazily in his flaming eyes as he steered my hand in stroking.
“It feels like steel,” I whispered in wonder.
And it did, solid and hefty.
He made a low, animal noise and took control of my thumb, rolling it over the tip.
“And silk,” I breathed.
I felt his other hand shift, and suddenly we had room to move for he’d unbuttoned and freed himself.
As well as our hands.
I peered down and watched us stroking his magnificent shaft.
“And beautiful,” I finished in marvel.
Done with his errand, Mars snaked his hand around the back of my thigh and in, gliding his fingers through my wet folds and tweaking my nub.
I gasped and pressed into his touch, even as I protested, “I’m supposed to—”
“Quiet, wife,” he grunted, his hand over mine at his shaft tightening.
I felt every ridge and vein, I felt his powerful body tighten and strain under me, I watched from close as his expression darkened gorgeously.
And I wanted more.
I also realized that he’d shown me the way.
So I took it.
I slithered down his body, losing his touch, to his annoyed, “Silence.”
I ignored that too.
Also, when he’d realized my destination, I ignored his soft, “Wife.”
And on a downward glide of our hands, I drew him into my mouth.
He made a noise so splendid, I nearly climaxed just hearing it.
Oh yes.
I was invincible.
His hand went way from mine as he slid both of them into my hair and he rumbled, “Stroke, piccolina, and suck.”
I did both, happily.
“Bob,” he grunted, his hips raising and lowering, showing me what he wanted.
I gave it to him.
“Fuck,” he clipped.
I slid him out and looked to his face, unsure.
“Yes?” I asked.
The boxes of his stomach contracted, coming out in sharp relief as he lifted up, reached beneath my arms and pulled me with him as he slid up the headboard.
But he didn’t shift my position.
He only put us in one where he could more easily watch.
He then directed with a thick, “Yes.”
I smiled at him.
The flames in his eyes raged.
The area between my legs quivered, and I dipped my head and went back to work on his beautiful shaft.
I felt him straining, I heard his noises deepening, these causing a quickening in me, and I thought vaguely how magnificent it was that I would climax with him just giving him this when I lost purchase on him seeing as I was dragged up his body.
He shifted his legs so I was straddling his hips.
I protested, “Mars!”
His hand again wrapped itself around mine at his shaft and his other hand delved between my legs.
I gasped, my head falling back, my hips rocking.
And he whispered, “Yes, Silence. That’s it, amore.”
I fought the sensation he was causing, righted my head and said, “You.”
“And you,” he replied.
His fingers so skilled, my hips became frenzied, my hand clenched his cock tightly, and my husband built the heat in both of us.
“I-I need something,” I whimpered.
“You’ll have it soon, amore. But take this now.”
We worked his tip with our thumbs and then he deepened our strokes as he pressed the silk of it to me and rubbed.
Oh yes.
I needed something.
Something more.
Him.
“Gods,” I breathed.
“You must finish, Silence,” he grunted.
“Mars.”
“Finish,” he growled.
“Mars!” I cried, trembling above him as my climax consumed me.
“Fuck,” he bit, shifted me slightly away, and I felt the violent jerks of his body as he changed the strokes of our hands to deep, tight, swift tugs.
I wanted to watch, but I was dancing in the flames, so I couldn’t.
They faded, leaving me panting.
Mars was breathing heavily and inquiring, “Do you wish to rest on me?”
I had no idea why he was asking that, for I was only able to hold myself away from him because he was doing the holding.
“Why would I not?”
“My seed is all over my stomach, piccolina,” he said gently.
I tugged from his hold and collapsed on his body.
I felt it relax under me as his arms curved around me.
I snuggled deeper.
He was a little slippery, but he felt divine, all of him, particularly the hardness still there that I felt pressing against the moist, sensitive part of me.
Still, even as I nuzzled his chest with my cheek, I said, “Not fair.”
He sounded bewildered (and his voice had a pleasing note of gruff), when he asked, “Not fair?”
I tipped my head up to look at him, seeing his bearded chin deep in his throat to look down at me, all his many piercings winking in the sunlight coming through the windows.
“I was supposed to please you.”
“You might have been climaxing when it happened, my queen, so perhaps you missed it. But you can rest assured that happened.”
“Yes, with you doing it to yourself as well as me.”
His mouth quirked. “Trust me, it was you doing it.”
“Was not.”
His lips curved. “It was.”
“Was not.”
He smiled blinding white. “It was, Silence.”
“It was supposed to be me making up for things,” I reminded him.
“I see you need to understand something,” he murmured.
Oh balls.
Not me understanding something more.
He drew me up his body so we were face to face and cupped the back of my head to bring us even closer.
“If there is ever a time when we are intimate, and I do not pleasure you, I have failed you,” he told me.
That was quite lovely.
Actually, beautiful.
However…
“There have been a number of times when we were intimate that I did not pleasure you, Mars,” I pointed out miserably.
“For you did not know how.”
“You were right earlier. I was being daft, thus thoughtless. I should have put it together.”
“You’ve had things on your mind.”
“And you are making excuses for me,” I grumbled.
“Silence.”
He said no more, so I asked, “What?”
“You must cease being so hard on yourself. You are glorious just the way you are. Those around you who are not blinded by their own faults see it clearly. It is only you who does not. I urge you to see yourself as I see you, amore, and have patience with yourself as I do, for I know you will be worth it. And I know this because you already are.”
I felt the need to weep at his words, but I did not give into it.
I lifted my hand to lay it against his bearded
cheek and asked, “How is it that the fates gave me someone so marvelous?”
“I do not know the answer to that, even though I’ve often been asking myself the same thing.”
I felt my face crumble, and to hide it, I tucked it in his neck.
To fight back the tears, I mumbled, “Thank you for understanding.”
“Thank you, my bride, for liking my cock so much.”
I knew he was saying that to release the heaviness of our conversation.
And it worked.
I giggled.
He reached out and pulled a rug over us.
He then reached out and tugged the cord for a servant.
I moved my head out of his neck at that.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Calling a servant,” he told me what I already knew.
“I know, but why?”
“I do not feel like getting up, and the fire needs stirred and fed,” he answered. “What I do feel like is eating my wife’s cunt, which I will do, once the fire is stirred and fed.”
I squirmed against him, shocked at his frank language, but nevertheless aroused by it.
I saw the satisfaction hit his face at my response, but he did not make note of it.
He continued, “Then we will nap. After that, we will have dinner abed. And after that, you will please me again, while I please you. And a servant needs to know our plans as they will be required to feed us.”
“I’m not sure they know how to cook,” I muttered.
“The fare they’ve provided I have noted has been substandard. Your father does not have skills in hiring staff.”
What he had skills at was hiring staff that he thought might turn a king’s eye.
A knock sounded at the door.
“Come!” Mars commanded.
The door opened, and I pressed closer to him, not looking in that direction.
His arms held me tighter.
“The fire needs stirred and fed,” he ordered. “And my queen and I will be enjoying our bed for the rest of the day. Bring wine, cheese and bread now. Fresh water and cloths in the queen’s boudoir. Later, we will be requiring supper. We shall ring when this is desired.”
“Yes, Your Grace,” I heard, and I recognized the voice. It was Olive.
She didn’t sound happy.
She would be less happy after Mars went on.
“I would suggest whoever cooks does so with the heretofore undemonstrated desire to please us, for if we dislike the fare we’re offered, whoever made it will be dismissed.”
“Yes, Your Grace,” came from the direction of the fire.
Hmm.
Definitely unhappy.
I grinned.
“Don’t dally,” Mars finished.
“Of course, Your Grace.”
She did not dally for, shortly after, I heard the door close.
The minute it did, Mars pushed us down in the bed and rolled me to my back on the mattress with him atop me.
“I must clean us up,” he murmured. “Hopefully there’s still water in my cabinet.”
“All right.”
He touched his lips to mine and made to pull away.
But I moved quickly to wrap my fingers around either side of his neck and he stopped.
“Thank you for being so understanding,” I said softly.
His expression grew tender (or more so).
“If I am ever not this, Silence, that would be a failure as well,” he replied. “One that you should not abide, no?”
I had a choice to kiss him or shed a tear.
It took no time a’tall to make the decision.
My husband approved of my decision.
And thus, it took some time for him to clean us up for we got lost in the embrace.
60
The Chalk
Chu of the Trusted
Northwestern Dune Dessert, by the Tebes River
FIRENZE
Serena washed in the river while Chu watched, recalling again the unsettling occurrence that happened between them some days before.
He had called her to him, not to their usual room in the Heden District, but to an osteria there.
He had then shared what his king had told him to share, not as a Master to his slave, but as a Trusted of the King of Firenze to a general in the Nadirii army.
What he found unsettling was her reaction.
Her appealing face took on an efficient expression.
She then asked a series of swift, succinct questions about the evidence they had to support their suspicions.
After that, she said, “Carrington is a fool and half the Go’Doan I find shifty. How do you wish to proceed?”
And at this, that unsettled feeling bloomed.
“We will work together, on both,” he told her.
She, Serena of the Nadirii, a known firebrand who had only one use for men and was not particularly fond of team efforts, simply nodded.
And that unsettled feeling grew.
But she asked, “What do you wish Heloise and Genia to do?”
“I do not know who they are, so I don’t wish them to do anything.”
“They’re my lieutenants. They remained behind in Firenze with me.”
“Then, as they are your lieutenants, you clearly trust them, thus I wish you to brief them, we will introduce them to Lorenz and Guard, and they will assist here in keeping watch over the Go’Doan that are left and searching for the priests who escaped while we travel to Wodell.”
This she did not support, and she verbalized that.
“I’d prefer they stay with me.”
“We’re going to be spying, mouse. That endeavor is much more successful when it is not attempted by a battalion.”
“Two warriors is not a battalion, and I am not your mouse when we are not at play.”
He leaned to her, touched her tunic at the side of her breast, watched her eyelids go heavy, and he pointed out the obvious.
“You are my mouse at all times, Serena. Now have you ever acted spy?”
She shook her head, and he knew she was more attuned to his finger lightly caressing her over her tunic than his words.
“Would you like to learn?” he asked.
She nodded.
He sat back and removed his hand.
She looked disappointed.
Chu allowed himself to enjoy that look for a moment before he ordered, “Give direction to your women. I will send a message to you when we will all meet. It will not be long, little mouse, so do this packing. And pack light. We must make haste to Wodell and we don’t need our horses heavy. Yes?”
She nodded again.
“Go,” he commanded.
She did not go.
She took a moment to study him and he could not read her face as she did.
She then went.
He watched her walk away, and after she was gone was when Chu realized he remained unsettled by her manner.
It was trusting. Attentive. Businesslike.
And none of those were known traits of Serena of the Nadirii.
However, she had fought in the attack on the palace alongside the rest of them, so it could be she wished vengeance, and assisting in finding out who was behind that would take her closer to that aim. That said, she was allowing the Firenz to take the lead for it was their palace that was attacked.
Not to mention, there was an alliance between the Nadirii and Wodell, Wodell opening its mercantiles to the Nadirii to sell their wares (mostly woven baskets, other artisanal works, health tonics and liniments, and magical potions, brews and implements), which was important revenue for The Enchantments.
And although Wilmer was an unpredictable ruler who might, or might not, support the abolition of oppression in Airen, and sustain alliances depending on that decision, True was not so unpredictable.
Therefore, it could be she wished to be certain to keep that secure for her people.
However, the reason he was unnerved by her behavior was that it appeared
she was simply what her manner suggested.
Trusting.
Attentive.
Businesslike.
She was a fierce warrior, and a very skilled one.
And Chu was not mistaken about her reputation. It was known widely she was so unpleasant and hostile as to be reviled by many, and it was feared Ophelia would leave the Nadirii to her rule, which many considered, with her disposition, would be catastrophic.
His king did not trust Serena with the information he’d trusted Chu to give to her.
He trusted Chu to have her in hand.
And Chu had her in hand, in play.
What Chu did not trust was that he had her in hand.
She detested her sister, did not hide it and took every opportunity to share this with her sibling.
And as far as she knew, they were riding to where her sister was, which was why Chu suspected Serena was behaving reasonably.
In order that the bully would be closer to her favorite prey.
But in the days that followed, as they rode, she was quiet and demonstrated (further, for he already knew this) that she was an immensely competent horsewoman, and openly enamored and caring of her steed. She did not complain that they rode under the hot sun. She did not protest that they bedded on blankets in the sand with no cover but the stars. She did not worry about insects and snakes attacking her in the night. She did not bemoan the chill that invaded the air when the sun left the sky. She did not take issue with infrequent meals, less frequent baths, and she wasted no time on her appearance.
They were on a mission and she, seemingly, was absorbed in getting on with it.
This was a problem for Chu.
For he admired all of this.
And, his mission, with Serena, was to make her slave to his cock, and onward from that, his command, and she might have been an inadequate lover in routine bedplay, but she was an exceptional submissive.
This, as well as being very easy to gaze upon. So much so, she needn’t take time on her appearance. This came naturally.
Now, he knew more of her, and like most men, Chu enjoyed sex in a variety of incarnations, particularly Master and slave, but he had always selected partners who were explicitly feminine and acquiescent in aspects of life, as well as play.
Serena was not that and he found the duality more intriguing than he should.
She rose from the water, wearing nothing, her lithe body slick and glistening in the moonlight.
She cast a glance his way as she did so, sharing she would be open to his command, something he had not given her since they embarked on their journey, except for him to share he did not wish for her to wear her bodystocking in sleep, just her tunic.
The Plan Commences Page 38
