by Cat Marsters
Kett sighed.
“Look,” he said. “I’m sorry I behaved like a child. I’ll try, all right? I’ll try to be nice to them.”
“To kelfs?”
He nodded. It was clearly important to her, so he could at least try.
Kett, her right hand still held by Bael, rubbed her face with her left. “I just can’t get a handle on you,” she said. “You’re like mercury. You keep changing.”
“I’m a Mage,” Bael said. “My animal’s never fixed. And Nasc tend to become animals that represent them—”
“Are you saying you’re a schizophrenic because you’re a Mage, or a Mage because you’re schizophrenic?”
He gave her a half smile. “A little from column A and a little from column B.”
She gave him a half smile back, and when he put his arm around her and rested his head on her shoulder, she didn’t resist.
“Bael,” she said after a little while. “I have to get away from here. If not home then somewhere else. Can’t spend that much time with my family. They do my head in.”
And yet she kept coming back to them. Kett wasn’t as immune to the pull of family as she thought she was.
“Isn’t that what families are for?”
“I dunno.” She scratched her nose. “You may have noticed I don’t exactly blend in with them.”
“You couldn’t blend in anywhere,” Bael said. And when she scowled at him, he grinned and clarified, “You’re like silver and gold in a heap of scrap metal.”
“Are you saying my family is scrap—”
“I’m paying you a compliment, woman.” He kissed her softly. “Pay attention.” Kett frowned but didn’t contradict him. “Now listen. If you really want to get away from here, we can go somewhere. Did I tell you I have lots of money?”
“Did I tell you my stepmother’s a princess?”
He grinned. “No, you didn’t, I had to work it out for myself. What I meant was, I’ve got houses in all the Realms. We could go visit one of them. Where d’you fancy? Somewhere warm? I have a gorgeous villa in Qarat. Or somewhere cooler? I have a chalet in the Aegeani Mountains, just south of Vigazza. Think about it—snow swirling outside, lovely warm fire inside, hot spiced wine, you and me naked on a fur rug…”
Kett’s eyes dropped. She shrugged. “If you’d like.”
Bael raised his eyebrows. She wasn’t fighting him? Well, maybe this was progress.
Or maybe she was up to something.
“Cool,” he said, and kissed her again. She didn’t fight it, so he chanced it and ran his hand down her back, feeling the ridges of her scars—I’ll kill the bastard who tried to rape her, I’ll fucking murder him—then slid around to cup her breast.
He kissed her neck and she let him. He slid his hand under her shirt, pulled down the cup of her bra and fondled her nipple, and she let him. He pushed her back on the bed, tugged off her shirt and buried his face in her breasts, and she cradled his head to her.
“Okay,” he looked up, “what’s going on?”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re not fighting me.”
She gave him an uncomprehending look.
“You’re just lying there and…letting me do whatever I want.”
“It’s not unpleasant,” she said.
“Well, that’s the idea, but…you don’t seem to be exactly…with me.”
She sighed, looking tired. “Bael, I don’t want to fight. I’m tired, I had a late night, I nearly got arrested and I’m just…tired of fighting with you. Can we just once…”
“What?” he asked softly.
“Can we act like grown-ups?”
He looked down at her, this woman who did nothing but fight and fuck, the scars of her life displayed on her body. His fingers traced the curve of her breast. “What do you think we’re doing?”
She looked up at him as if she wanted to say something, but instead curled her hand around his neck and pulled him down to kiss her.
Confused, but enjoying this softer side of Kett nonetheless, Bael kissed her back and let his hands roam over her body. She tugged at his shirt and he pulled it off, rolling to his back and taking her with him, skin against skin. Her body was taut, muscular and the skin on her back was ridged with scar tissue, but her breasts were soft, something feminine she couldn’t hide.
She kissed his neck, his chest, his stomach, her fingers unfastening his fly as she went. She palmed his cock even as she headed south, following the line of hair down his belly to his erection, semi-hard already.
After she’d wrapped her lips around it, licked up and down the length and sucked it deep into her mouth, it was quickly very hard.
“Gods, you’re good at that,” Bael gasped, and she raised her head, her eyes dancing, before she moved away to shuck the rest of her clothes. Bael followed suit, but had only gotten as far as kicking off his boots before she was back, straddling him and sinking down onto his cock.
“You’re good at that too,” he moaned, running his hands over her hips, up her rib cage, thumbing her nipples and pulling her down to him. He kissed her, long and deep, as she moved on him, her cunt slick and tight.
It was different, so different, to all the other times. There was no urgency, no pushing and fighting. The anger that seemed to pulse in Kett day and night felt banked, leashed, as she rose and fell, her eyes closed, her body soft and yielding.
Her pussy squeezed him tight and Bael came, gasping her name, gripping her shoulders. She fell against him, her skin damp, her breathing tight, and he held her for a moment, almost indescribably glad to have her.
He kissed her neck, brushed her tangled hair aside and licked the sweat from her skin. Kett shuddered, her pussy tightening around him for a second. Bael slid his hands down her back, stroked her buttocks and delved down to caress the folds of her pussy where they were stretched around his girth.
He kissed her mouth then slid from her, pushing her gently to her back and kissing her stomach. Kett tensed but they both knew where this was going, and when he dipped his head between her legs and ran his tongue around her engorged clit, her breathing quickened.
He could taste himself on her. In fact she was full of his come, dripping with it. Bael lapped it up, the mixture both tart and salty on his tongue. When he’d licked every last drop of his own come, she was still dripping wet, her pussy throbbing with heat as he drove his fingers inside and lapped at her clit.
She came with a gasp, gripping him with her thighs, and he stayed there, licking her until she relaxed.
Then he held her until she drifted into sleep, warm and soft in his arms, a different woman from the one he knew.
Chapter Thirteen
Jarven had sent one of the smaller dragons down to fly Kett and Bael to the Third Bridge between Peneggan and Euskara. She’d agreed to the chalet in the southern Aegeani Mountains, which would be a two-day trip including an overnight stop before they reached southern Sisilia. Not that Kett was planning on getting that far. Wherever they stopped for the first night, there ought to be a tavern or a whorehouse or something she could use to her advantage.
She piloted the dragon in silence, and Bael seemed to understand she didn’t want to be distracted.
The thing was, now that she’d thought of a plan and had an opportunity to set it in motion, Bael had…changed. All right, his attitude toward kelfs was still unacceptable, but…well, maybe it was at least understandable.
This morning when he’d told her that he was a Nasc Mage—whatever the hell that meant—it had revealed a vulnerability she hadn’t seen before. His anger over the men who’d kidnapped her, his admiration for the way she’d dealt with the slimy bastard who’d tried to rape her and his account of his father’s treatment made Kett wonder if she’d misjudged him.
Or if he was tying it on to gain her sympathy.
Either way, neither of them said much as they flew south and passed through the Bridge to Euskara. The dragon had to be left behind, and all that awaited them in
Euskara was a series of rickety-looking wooden coaches, manned by kelfs giving Bael shifty looks. The cold wind howled ’round them and Kett shivered as she tried to get a price for the trip south.
“Okay, this is impossible,” she said after the third polite refusal. “None of these kelfs’ll even make eye contact with you, and we’ve got to go way too far south to make it by boat.” Maybe she should have chosen the villa in Qarat. At least that way she could have checked out the Nihon caves on her way home.
Bael nodded sympathetically then added as if it wasn’t much of an idea, “Or we could fly.”
“Yeah, but I ain’t got wings,” said Kett, and for the moment at least that was true.
Bael was scratching his chin. “You’re right,” he said. “You know, it’s a shame you don’t know anyone with, say, a gryphon.”
“They ain’t got ’em here,” Kett said. “Crappy Realm, I hate this place.”
“Really?” Bael asked. “So what’s that then?”
Something made a clacking noise behind her and Kett froze. The extra animal senses she’d regained with her fluidity told her there was a large creature behind her where there’d been none a second ago.
She turned—and there was a full-sized gryphon standing there, pawing the ground. It nodded its eagle head at her.
She looked back to Bael, who winked, and felt a smile break out.
“All right, you’ve made your point,” she said, and he laughed and swung his arm around her waist to kiss her. “But we can’t go by gryphon, it’d raise too many eyebrows.”
“Dragon then.”
“Ain’t got them here either.”
“Well, what do you want to fly on?” Hooves stamped the ground behind Kett, and she turned to see a winged horse there, tall and black and beautiful. “I saw one of these in a zoo once.”
“Where?”
“I don’t bloody know, you want me to search my pockets for the ticket? Just get on.”
Kett did, expecting Bael to join her, but he stood by Var, closed his eyes and touched the horse’s neck.
The two of them shimmered, which was not altogether unpleasant with the horse between her thighs, and then Bael disappeared.
She felt him as part of the horse. It was eerie.
“Right then, Baelvar,” she said. “Off we go.”
The wingspan of the flying horse was more than ten feet. Up high in the air it was freezing cold, especially as they went over the mountains, and Kett crouched close against Var’s neck, shivering, trying to absorb the heat of his body. He was rarely cold, she realized, even in human form, always a few degrees warmer than everyone else.
Well, maybe that was because he was just so damn hot.
He came down to land on a snowy peak, and separated into human and beast once again.
“Why’ve we stopped?” Kett asked, still on Var’s back. Bael, she noticed, by some Nasc trick, was still clothed in the things he’d been wearing before.
“Because you’re freezing,” Bael said. He indicated the rucksack Kett wore. “Put more clothes on.”
“I’m fine,” she lied, her face so cold she almost couldn’t speak.
“No, you’re not.” He came closer, rubbed her arms with his hands. Kett was wearing the leather jacket she’d left Elvyrn in, a scarf tied around her neck.
“Did you bring your fur parka?” Bael asked, and Kett nodded. She was too cold to unsling the pack and get it out, but Bael did it for her, his movements surprisingly gentle as he wrapped it around her and fastened it up as if he was dressing a child.
“Better?”
She nodded, her teeth chattering, and Bael took her hands in his. “You need more than fingerless gloves,” he said.
“They do me all right at home.”
“But you’re not at home, darling, you’re on top of a fucking mountain.” He dug in the kitbag slung around Var’s neck and brought out a pair of mittens.
“Sexy,” Kett said.
“You know what else is sexy?” Bael asked, putting them on her hands. “Frostbite.”
“Hah.”
He grinned and kissed her cold nose. “When we get down from here I’ll warm you up properly,” he promised, heat in his eyes, and if Kett hadn’t been afraid of frostbitten nipples she’d have suggested a quick shag there and then.
They touched down in the foothills of northern Sisilia as it was turning dark, and Var folded away his wings to become a normal horse for Kett to ride into town. She found an inn, cheekily sent him to the stables for a rubdown and ordered hot water to be sent to her room. Her leg was aching, protesting the extreme cold and stiffness from sitting too long in one position.
Bael found her twenty minutes later, massaging life back into her leg as she sat in the tub by the fire.
There was straw in his hair.
“I fly you across the Realm,” he complained, “and this is the thanks I get.”
Kett looked him up and down. He was rumpled, tired and dirty, and in the low light he looked sexy as hell.
“The thanks you get,” she said, “are here in this tub.”
This time Bael looked her over. He smiled slowly. “You bet they are,” he said, taking off his coat and kicking off his shoes. Kett watched him undress at the speed of sound, licking her lips, grateful the hot water had warmed up the parts of her that had been too cold to feel anything.
“These thanks, how many of them are there?”
“Multiple,” Kett said, eyeing his bare chest.
“That’s what I like to hear.”
“Yes, I thought you might.”
Clothes thrown all over the room, Bael stepped into the tub, which wasn’t particularly big, and sloshed water all over the floor.
“Hey!” Kett protested, and he pulled her against him.
“Gonna be a lot more of that spilled by the time I’ve had my multiples,” Bael said, nuzzling her neck.
“Can men have multiples?” Kett asked, because in all her vast experience she’d never known it to be true.
“I don’t know. Want to find out?”
He kissed her, shifting her more comfortably in his arms, and Kett moved her legs to straddle him, wincing slightly as her right thigh twinged.
“Your leg okay?” asked Bael.
“Five by five,” Kett lied. “Just need to get some movement back into it.”
“Ah.” He grinned. “I can help with that.”
“I thought you’d say that.”
The small tub was restrictive and discomfort soon outweighed arousal for Kett. She leaned back, frustrated, and said, “Okay, we need more space.”
“Sure,” Bael said, starting to move.
“But first, you need to get cleaner.”
He didn’t argue, but let her soap his arms and chest. Then his stomach. Then, teasing him, Kett smoothed her hands down his thighs, stroking and caressing all the way down to his feet.
“You have nice feet,” she told him.
“Thank you,” he said, voice slightly strained.
“And calves.”
“Uh-huh.”
“And thighs. I really like your thighs.”
Bael just nodded, because she was stroking back up said body parts as she spoke, moving closer and closer to his groin. Under the soapy water she couldn’t really see where her hands were going, so she had to feel her way.
Her wrist brushed the hot tip of his erection and Bael sucked in a breath.
“And I really,” Kett said, letting her fingers trail up the insides of his thighs, “like this bit of you.”
Bael bit his lip, nodding tightly, and Kett had to smile.
“I think you’re clean enough,” she said, standing up, and he moaned. Suddenly grabbing her by the hips, he buried his face between her legs and slid his tongue between her pussy lips. Kett’s leg buckled and Bael held her up, grinning.
“Gods alive, don’t do that!” she gasped.
“Well, if you insist,” he said, eyes sparkling.
“Well, not withou
t warning, anyway.”
Bael stood up, helped her out of the tub and picked up a towel, but Kett was fired up and didn’t want a towel rubbing her off. She wanted Bael. Wrapping her arms around him, she pressed her wet body against his and kissed him long and deep, her tongue sliding against his, her fingers tangling in his damp hair.
His whole body was hard and so hot. Rubbing her breasts against the light hair on his chest, she ground her belly against his throbbing erection. Bael growled, she nipped his lip and he cupped her ass with both hands, lifting her up so she stood on her toes and fitting her pussy against the length of his cock.
Kett lifted her leg to rub against his but lost her balance, pulling Bael with her and falling against the wall. The plaster was cold and rough against her back, but Bael was hot against her front, kissing her neck and palming her breasts. His hips thrust against hers, rubbing his cock against her wet folds but not entering her.
“Here,” she murmured, her voice thick. “Fuck me right here.”
“Gods, yes,” Bael grunted, and slid the head of his cock down, so slowly it made Kett moan, until he pushed against her entrance.
Then he shoved inside her, and she cried out.
Lifting her up, he settled her against the wall to thrust into her, his movements steady, his eyes hot on hers.
“Gods, Kett,” he ground out. “I could fuck you forever.”
Breathless, Kett just nodded.
“And I will,” he told her, licking and biting her neck. “Because you’re my mate, and I’m so damn glad you are, because I don’t want to fuck anyone else. Not ever.”
Like a slap from a wet flannel, that killed Kett’s lust. I don’t want a mate. I don’t want to be tied to anyone. I don’t want anyone forever.
He captured her mouth, kissing her sweetly as he drove into her hard, and Kett let him seduce her. One last time, she told herself, as he came inside her and she drew him over to the bed. Bael settled down to lick her pussy and she held him to her, determined to enjoy it.
