by B N Miles
"Alright," Sam said with a mean sneer. "I'll enter the tournament, and then when I kick your ass, you can leave me and my crew alone."
Delcan tilted his head, a look of serious consideration on his face. After a moment, he sneered back at Sam. "Fine. And when you lose, your entire crew has to join mine."
Sam didn't even think about it. He just grabbed Delcan's hand and shook it with more force than necessary. "Deal."
Shit, wait.
"Did you hear that, ladies?" Delcan shoved Sam's hand away like it was a piece of filth. "When I win, you'll have a brand-new crew to work with. Sam and his roommate can play together for the rest of the semester."
The girls didn't look happy, but instead of aiming their scowls at Delcan, they were pointed at Sam. He didn't blame them, that was possibly the most disrespectful thing he'd ever done to anybody. Sam didn't trade people. It was wrong on every possible level. He didn't mean to do it, Delcan just made him so angry and...no, that wasn't a good excuse. There was no excuse, but he would fix his mistake promptly.
"How about," Sam said. "If you win, I will stand on top of the school and shout to the world that you have bested me and I bow to your greatness. And if you win, you have to do the same. No deal on trading crews."
"Hmm."
"And I'll scrub your dorm room once a week."
"With a horse brush."
"Yes, fine. But no crew trades."
Delcan smiled. It looked real. He grasped Sam's hand and pumped it twice. "Deal," he said.
22
That night, the four of them snuck out of the dormitories with their practice swords. It wasn’t easy slipping past the gaggle of older students prowling about, but it was…fun. He didn’t know why slipping out to go swing sticks in the forest was so exciting, but it was. Sam almost forgot what fun felt like.
It felt good to forget about the day. Sam had been foolish to agree to enter the tourney just because Delcan goaded him into it. But now he couldn't back out.
Rosin assured him, however, that with her training, he might be able to actually beat that arrogant snob. It helped greatly when both Drina and Mattie agreed to be his sparring partners as well. He’d need them for warmups before he faced Rosin.
They walked deep into the forest until they came upon a small clearing. While Sam and Mattie stretched, Drina and Rosin rolled a felled trunk to sit on.
Mattie was no swordswoman but she had plenty of practice with sticks and staves, so Sam’s warmup quickly turned into a legitimate effort on his part to not get wacked. He didn’t succeed. Drina took him on next, and she was not a fencing master either, but she easily got under his guard and knocked the wind out of him several times. By the time his ‘warm up’ was done, he already had a knot on his head and a few new bruises for his trouble.
He and Rosin squared off, and just like earlier, she beat him quite a few times within the first thirty minutes. By the forty-five-minute mark, he was dripping with sweat and his hands were on his knees as he caught his breath.
“You're getting better,” Rosin said. He managed to snap upright just in time to block her overhead swing.
Wow. That felt good.
Sam’s sword held Rosin’s captive high in the air and he grinned at her between the cage of their arms. Rosin was smiling too, and there was something distinctly proud about it. A bolt of joy thundered through his blood and he lurched forward, capturing her lips. It was a chaste kiss, but Rosin squeaked and was distracted enough that when Sam disarmed her, the wooden sword went flying from her hands with ease.
“You won!” Drina shot to her feet and clapped excitedly.
“I did, didn’t I?” Sam slicked his hair back and his smile got measurably wider when he caught Rosin touching her lips with a little, secret grin. She was so damn precious. Strangely enough, the sword fighting made her that much more adorable.
“I just need to get better faster. Can you imagine what would happen if Delcan actually won and I had to hold up my side of the bet?” He laughed and shook his head, “Nobody would ever let me live that one down. I'd spend the next five years as ‘the boy who bowed.’”
“Maybe…you need a little more incentive,” Mattie said from her perch on the log. “How about Drina goes up against you again, and whoever loses has to fight naked the next round.”
Sam groaned. Drina’s face lit up. She always assumed she would win, so that wasn't a surprise. Well, not this time. He wanted to see her swinging a stick without a stitch of clothes like a southern barbarian.
It wasn’t impossible to beat her. He just beat Rosin, after all, and unlike Rosin, Sam was certain Drina hadn't practiced under any sort of master fencer. He'd seen her fight with her knives and from what he could tell, she was damn good, but knives weren’t swords…or…sticks, in this case.
“Rules?” Drina called, keeping her eyes glued on Sam.
“None!” Rosin called back.
“Wait—” Sam looked over at the other girls but it was too late. Drina withdrew two shiny daggers from her boots; he didn’t even know she was armed. Then again, it was Drina, so why wouldn’t she be? She sure was opportunistic.
Unlike his and Mattie’s knives, hers looked new, sharpened, cared for. They were longer than her hands but they had no grips. No wood or bone or even soft wrap; they were both steel all the way through.
They probably slipped in her hands a lot when she got sweaty. Maybe that’s how he’d win—make her sweat. And then she'd have to fight him naked, which he had been wanting to see since he first laid eyes on her.
The thought bolstered him.
Drina whistled some unknown tune under her breath and twirled one of her daggers in the air, catching it from blade to hilt with every turn.
“Whenever you're ready,” Sam said nonchalantly.
If he knew Drina, she wasn't going to be patient and wait to strike. He was right. Drina sprinted at him, one dagger in each hand, aimed down as if she meant to stab him in a downward motion. He lifted his practice sword and swiped for her belly when she was close enough.
But she dodged, tapping his shoulder with one of her knives. She giggled as she danced away.
“That's one!” Mattie called. “Whoever gets five taps first wins.”
Sam didn't wait to make his next move. He swiped his training sword at her feet, but she just jumped over it, wrapped her arm around his neck, and kissed him on the cheek before tapping his temple and darting away. Quick little demon, that one.
Drina turned her back on him, but not before throwing him a flirtatious little smile. She sashayed toward one of the trees.
He had an idea. No rules, huh?
Sam bolted for the shadows of the woods and fell into the darkness.
“Hey, not fair!” Drina whined.
He grinned to himself and walked as quietly as he could. He rounded the rim of the clearing. She was looking the other way when he popped out of the forest and tapped her on the shoulder.
She growled and came at him harder. Her daggers swiped left, right, up, down, and for once in his life, Sam was glad that so many people had tried to knife him before. He dodged her furious movements much better than if she’d had a stick.
The two of them went at it for a very long time.
Unfortunately, in the end, the fifth blow went to Drina, who cheered and jumped in the air, throwing her knives into the dirt as if she'd won the ultimate championship.
“All right, Sam,” Mattie called, “rules or rules. Take off your clothes.”
Sam hadn't thought he would lose, but at this point, he figured he was probably the worst swordsman in the clearing.
“You asked for it,” he said, pinning her in his sights as he started to undress. He'd been gaining so much weight since he got to the Academy that he was starting to look like a healthy, fit man of twenty. He was just worried about Rosin. It would not surprise him if she’d never seen a naked man before.
Sam flung off his shirt and threw it at Mattie before slipping his boots off, then
his pants and smallclothes. He stood naked in the clearing, his practice sword hefted over his shoulder. He hadn’t looked away from Mattie yet, nor she him. He dared her to look down.
“All right, Drina,” he called without looking at her. “Don't be a cheat and go after the wrong bits.”
Mattie did look away at that point, and Sam followed her gaze…to Drina, who was smirking. Mattie’s answering smile was just as sly. He hoped that meant what he thought it meant.
Mattie stood up and tucked her hands behind her back, walking toward him, her eyes crawling from his face, then downward. When she stood in front of him, her body was inches away from his own. She flicked her blue eyes up at him and he immediately knew what she was going to do, as if he could read her mind.
And she was going to do it out in the forest, in the open, in front of Rosin. Suddenly, a warm body was pressed to his back.
Mattie wrapped her arms around Sam’s waist and pressed herself flush against him.
“Come here, Rosin,” Drina called from behind him. Her nails raked a soft trail up his spine. Drina and Mattie were mad if they thought Rosin was going to participate. Watch out of shock and curiosity, yes, but she wouldn’t join.
To his surprise, Rosin came into view, looking at anything but him. His body couldn’t not react at that point.
Mattie’s fingers danced across his, light as a feather. It was almost unbearable. Another set of hands slid around him, gliding down his abdomen. There were fingers stroking at his groin, skating dangerously close to his length without touching it.
Sam’s breathing became heavy, and he tilted his head back when Mattie nibbled the side of his neck. He pulled in a deep lungful of air as one of the girls wrapped her hand around his manhood.
“Aren't you curious?” Drina asked. Sam looked down to see Rosin at Mattie’s shoulder, blushing a deep red.
“I…I don't think…Sam. Ah…”
“Sam's okay with it,” Mattie said, her slender hand gliding down to join Drina’s. Sam bit his lip, his nostrils flaring.
“Tell Rosin how much you like it,” Drina purred. His hips twitched when she gave him a firm stroke.
“Go ahead, Sam. Tell her,” Mattie whispered as she cupped his tip with a gentle, gliding palm.
“I like it, Rosin,” he panted, looking at the moon so he had something to focus on before he started mindlessly rocking into the girls’ hands.
Sam's brain was long gone by now. The only thing that ruled him was a blood rushing to his groin and the warmth spreading down his spine. He took deep breaths.
“Just touch it. It doesn’t bite, promise.”
He wasn’t going to last long like this. Sam screwed his eyes shut when a third hand wrapped around him, his length now completely sheathed inside a bundle of warmth and friction.
His hips thrust instinctively.
Mattie trailed featherlight kisses down his shoulders and up his neck, threading her fingers into his hair, biting at his collarbone.
“See, not so bad, huh?” Drina murmured. Rosin nodded absently, her gaze trained on his length, her lips parted slightly like she was utterly fascinated.
“Did you three plan this or something?” Sam said through his teeth, stifling a groan when one of them tightened her grip.
“Maybe…” Mattie purred, “Rosin was curious, and Drina and I have been wanting you to come to bed again for weeks, so we figured…now was as good a time as any.”
Drina slowly dropped to her knees and caught his gaze. There was a hunger in her dark eyes and he held his breath, watching as the other girls guided his tip between her plush lips. She sucked at him lightly, swirling her tongue at a languid, torturous pace. Mattie and Rosin kept pumping him and little by little, Drina slid him deeper into her mouth.
His eyes drifted shut and he let out a steadying breath, his head falling back and his face tilted to the sky. Suddenly, the warmth of Drina’s lips was gone and Mattie’s fingers clutched at his hair, forcing his head down.
“Open your eyes,” Mattie said.
He did.
Drina smiled up at him. “Watch.”
He did.
Her little red tongue darted out and flicked at him. She did it again, then she flattened her tongue and dragged it from root to tip before she swallowed him. Sam sucked in a breath and a soft, distant pressure pulsated between his hips. He couldn’t tear his eyes away—Mattie wouldn’t let him. He wasn’t going to last long.
Drina tugged Rosin down and the blonde drifted to the ground. Mattie pulled him from Drina’s mouth and held him inches from Rosin’s parted lips. When Rosin slid him into her mouth, it was slow and unsure. He didn’t move a muscle for fear of startling her. She sucked at the top experimentally, slowly getting used to the movements. Drina and Mattie whispered encouragement to her. Sam’s hips twitched ever so slightly. He needed more. He would have begged them to have mercy if they wanted him to, just as long as they gave him more.
His heartbeat quickened and he breathed through his mouth. Drina fisted Rosin’s silver hair and pushed her gently, wedging Sam further into her mouth. Then Drina pulled her. Again. Again. She did it faster and faster until all he could see was Rosin’s bobbing head. Sam couldn’t think straight. Just a little more.
Drina suddenly pulled Rosin off him completely. His hips thrust at the air almost desperately.
“You did good,” Drina said, guiding Rosin’s head back to where he needed her. Drina let go of the blonde and leaned forward, licking him and smirking all the while. Rosin watched her for a moment before she bent forward and took him into her mouth again.
When Drina’s mouth met Rosin’s, the blonde girl moved just enough to share with Drina, and then they were kissing, his length dipping in and out of their mouths while their tongues tangled in a messy, breathless dance.
He might have lasted longer if Drina didn’t plunge him into her mouth and grab him by the hips, guiding his thrusts until he was buried in her throat. He was so full, ready to burst, and when Drina sucked all of the air from her mouth, she sucked the very essence from him and didn’t stop until he had no more to give.
Sam took a shuddering breath and slumped against Mattie. Drina wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, a victorious smile on her swollen lips.
Seconds later, when he could think again, he realized that the three of them were staring at him, varying degrees of impatient desire pouring out of their expressions.
“Our turn,” Mattie whispered.
Sam was on his knees, his hip bones digging into Mattie’s backside as she pressed herself hard against him, smothering his length and rocking against him. His hands clung to her hips, holding on too tightly to be anything near gentle.
The clearing was filled with gasps, squeaks, strained mewls, and breathy moans as the girls lapped at one another, the wet sounds of Sam’s length squeezing into Mattie’s core punctuating the chorus of carnality.
Sam leaned forward and pressed his fingers into the little button above Mattie’s center. Her legs twitched and she gasped, though it was muffled between Drina’s thighs. Seconds later, Drina whined and arched off the ground, her hips jerking away from Mattie just as Rosin cried out, grinding down on Drina’s mouth. Sam quickened his fingers and his hips until Mattie fluttered around him and cried out, her body stiffening, her legs shaking like twigs in the breeze.
Sam didn’t let himself finish. It was a close thing, the throbbing pressure at the root of his length was tensed, tight, threatening to force him over the edge and into his climax. Women might be able to go hours and hours without stopping, but that was a bit more difficult for a man.
When the four of them recovered, Mattie’s eyes shot to Drina, who held her hands up, panting. “Look, I just didn’t get the chance to tell you, and I didn’t want to surprise you.”
Sam was still buried to the hilt inside of Mattie.
“Surprise me?” Mattie rotated her hips and slowly bounced against his lap. Sam bit his lip.
Drina laughed. �
��Uh, yeah, I’m just a bit…sensitive is all. Once the first one happens, I’m a useless, boneless mess that can’t really stop ah…you know…going.”
Sam squeezed Mattie’s hips, warning her that he was teetering. Distantly, he heard the wickedness in Mattie’s voice. “I don’t know, actually. How about you take Sam for a ride and show us what you’re talking about?”
23
Over the following two weeks, Sam trekked through his days in a fog. Between classes, the fencing lessons that inevitably turned into a tangle of limbs and breathy sounds, and watching the administrative building, Sam was utterly exhausted. Somehow, he kept up with his studies just enough so that he didn't fall behind.
When he slept past the first and second classes of the day, he knew he needs to do something about his schedule. He made an excuse about having a cold and spent the entire day sleeping so deeply that it was closer to a void of blackness than a rest. He woke up to a hand on his shoulder, shaking him and calling his name.
Sam opened his eyes with a great amount of willpower and looked blearily up at Mattie, who held a steaming tray between her hands. She looked so worried that he almost felt bad for her rather than himself. Almost.
Drina leaned over and pressed her hand to his forehead.
“I’m not sick, just really tired,” he croaked.
Rosin rushed to his side and held his face between her hands, her big sky-blue eyes filled with concern and warmth.
“This is fucking ridiculous, yeah? He can’t keep functioning like he has,” Drina said to Mattie, gesturing wildly at Sam.
“I’m tired, not dead. Don’t talk about me like I’m not here,” Sam grumbled. His throat was so dry. Rosin, bless her, must have heard the scratch in his acrid throat, because she grabbed the water from the tray and held it to his lips while he sipped.
“Shut up, Sam. You’re unwell, so just lay there and be miserable,” Drina huffed, looking back at Mattie. The redhead sighed and set his supper on the side table.
