by Alana Serra
He sank to his knees at the edge of the bed, his arms wrapping around her thighs as he pulled her to him.
“What—?” she barely had time to ask before he buried his face between her thighs.
She cried out, the sudden feeling of his mouth on her pussy so unbelievably amazing that it took several moments for her to be able to do anything at all. Throughout that time, Wesley licked and sucked at her pussy lips, plying her flesh as if it was his to control. Her hands buried in his hair, gripping so tightly she was sure she was causing him pain. Her hips lifted unbidden off the bed, trying to pull him closer, but Wesley didn’t allow it. He had complete control, and when he drew her clit into his mouth, Rhia was rendered mute, her throat forgetting how to make sound for several moments. He sucked on her, hard, demanding she react to him, and she certainly did. She practically writhed beneath him, bucking upward, demanding more from him in return.
“Wesley,” she moaned, her fingers curled tightly in his short hair.
This time, he didn’t relent. He sucked on her clit, attending the needy bud with his lips and tongue until a violent wave crashed over Rhia, her orgasm hitting her like none ever had before. She all but screamed, not caring who heard her, certainly not caring what she looked like as her body undulated beneath him, rising off the bed as though she were in the thralls of some possession.
He drew back, his lips glistening with her juices, and once Rhia had recovered enough to move, she reached for him. Wesley shucked off his pants, threw aside his shirt, and pulled down his smallclothes before giving her what she wanted. She clutched at his back, her nails digging in as he kissed her hungrily.
She wrapped her legs around him, wanting for nothing more than to feel him inside of her. An ache existed that she’d never noticed before, a neediness she felt she had to sate before she could be satisfied. And this time, Wesley didn’t deny her. This time, they weren’t interrupted.
As he kissed her, he rolled his hips, his cock gliding along her slit. He coated himself, reached down to rub the head between her folds, and then he pulled back just enough to meet her gaze.
“I swear, if you don’t fuck me—”
He didn’t need any more than that. She felt the head of his cock breach her, sliding in until he met resistance, then pushing past it in one fluid stroke. A hint of pain flared through her and Rhia clung to him, Wesley remaining still. He didn’t fret over her, didn’t question her desire to continue. He just waited, his breathing measured, until her body began to relax around him.
When the pain subsided, Rhia felt… everything. The fullness of him inside of her, the way her walls grasped around him when he started to move, the shaft of his cock so close to rubbing against her clit as he pumped in and out of her. She moaned beneath him, lifting her hips off the bed to meet his thrusts, her nails digging so sharply into his back she knew she must have drawn blood.
“Harder,” she begged, breathless, her head tossed back against the mattress. “Don’t stop.”
He didn’t, his thrusts increasing in pace and intensity, his body meeting hers again and again as he slammed into her. His mouth crashed to hers once more, their moans muffled by one another, the kiss frenzied and lacking in any finesse as he fucked her just as she’d demanded.
He wasn’t saying anything, wasn’t teasing her with what the other men would do to her. Rhia couldn’t have focused on any of it, regardless. As much as she wanted that, as much as she wanted all of them here eventually, right now there was only Wesley.
Reaching down between them, he rubbed at her clit, the motion hard and fast and designed to get her to break. Rhia wasn’t in any position to hold on. She rode out the pleasure against his hand, bucked against him, met every thrust as he slammed into her. And when she broke, she absolutely shattered around him, her body arching off the bed, a moan shaking through her and reverberating through the small room.
“Too close,” Wesley gasped, pulling away from her suddenly.
She watched in a haze of pleasure as his hand fisted over his cock, moving so fast it was only a blur to her, until he spilled himself outside of her, a deep moan pulled from him when he did so. Rhia watched it all, shamelessly enjoying the sight, her chest heaving as she tried to regain some semblance of control over herself.
It helped that when Wesley’s eyes met hers again, there was a tenderness in them; a softness she hadn’t expected. Her heart clenched, fluttering in her chest. He didn’t say anything, but when he lay down beside her, gathered her into his arms, and kissed her until they were both too tired to continue, she knew.
She absolutely could fall for this man.
Chapter 32
The next morning, Wesley wanted nothing more than to wake Rhia with gradually warming kisses. To have another showing of the night before, with more of her fantasies—and his—verbalized between them.
But he was never given the chance. A knock on the door roused him from restful sleep, Liam’s voice reaching him from the hall.
“I’m headed to the compound. I’ll be back in a half hour, likely, so I suggest you make yourself presentable.”
There was a hint of amusement in his voice, and Wesley felt a flush steal over his body as he realized how loud they’d been last night. The entire tavern probably heard them, and the other guardians certainly had. But when he examined it closer, he found he didn’t care. In fact, he considered it a point of pride. He’d pleased her, brought her to climax and made certain she was sated. If the entire tavern heard the evidence of her pleasure, so much the better.
But now he needed to face the day—face his sister. And despite the wonderful night with Rhia, he wasn’t exactly feeling confident about the outcome. It did help to have her near, though, and he looked to her now, still tangled up in the sheets.
“Morning already?” she mumbled, barely comprehensible.
“Mm.” Wesley smiled, leaning down to brush her hair back from her neck and press a kiss to her skin. “I have to clean up and get dressed. You can rest more, if you wish.”
That seemed to rouse her, and she turned empathetic eyes toward him. “No. I want to be there. Not through all of it, if you need time alone with her. But I want to at least be close.”
Wesley nodded, reluctantly pulling himself out of bed. He hardly worried over modesty now, enjoying the attention he was getting as her gaze lingered on him. Frowning at the empty tub, he realized he’d have to at least dress somewhat to go ask for hot water.
Before he could even vocalize that, he felt the prickle of magical energy in the room, and suddenly the tub was filled, steam curling from the surface of the water. He tossed Rhia a glance over his shoulder, one eyebrow raised.
“What’s the point of having powers if you can’t use them to be lazy?” she asked, a playful glint in her eyes. “It’s just a shame this tub isn’t large enough for two.”
“We’ll have to make sure the one at Ebonhold is,” he answered, his voice lowering. “Or maybe even bigger.”
Fire burned in Rhia’s eyes, an obvious answer to his unasked question. “Or maybe even bigger.”
They both managed to bathe and dress quickly, with only minimal distractions. Rhia’s hair was still wet and she fussed over it with a comb, but Wesley was as ready as he was going to be. He fastened the last button on his waistcoat and drew in a deep breath.
“Have faith in her,” Rhia reminded him, coming up to help straighten his shirt collar and getting in one last kiss.
His lips lingered on hers, curving into a smile. “Thank you. Whatever happens, you’ve done more for me than you know.”
She smiled in return, a shimmer in his eyes. But time was nearly up, and Wesley couldn’t put it off any longer. He headed downstairs, sitting apart from the others in a chair by the fire as he waited for his sister to arrive.
It didn’t take long. True to his word, Liam brought her to the tavern almost at the half-hour mark exactly. The paladin made his way through the door first, holding it open, and Wesley got the first glim
pse of his sister he’d had in years.
She was thinner than he’d expected. Almost a bit gaunt. There was a caution in her posture that hadn’t been present before, an uncertainty about everyone and everything around her. She wasn’t covered in bruises this time, but she wore a tattered frock, dirtied from her time in the dungeons, Liam’s cloak the only thing that kept her presentable.
Her hair was shorter, too, he realized. Much shorter. The chestnut brown locks that had at one point fallen past her waist were now shorn above the nape of her neck, shorter than Wesley’s own hair. Overall, she just looked… older, and not necessarily in a good way. She looked as if she’d aged ten years during her time as Tremont’s ward, and another handful in the dungeons.
His heart ached, his arms desperate to enfold her in a tight hug and never let her go. But Wesley’s legs were shaky as he stood, and he stopped breathing the moment Emma’s crystalline blue eyes settled on him.
“Wesley?” she asked in a voice barely above a whisper.
This was it. This was the moment she rejected him for good. This was the moment she saw him for what he was. Remembered what he’d done and what he was still capable of.
But there was no shudder, no insistent desire to get away from him. She didn’t scream, didn’t look at him with disgust. She ran toward him, launching herself into his waiting arms, and hugged him so tightly Wesley almost couldn’t breathe. Tears sprang to his eyes immediately, tracking down his cheeks as he hugged her back, holding her close.
“I thought I’d never see you again,” she said, her words shaking with her tears, muffled against his chest.
All Wesley could manage in return was her name. Even when she pulled back, when he looked at her tear-filled eyes, the smile he remembered so well, he couldn’t form the words to describe what this moment meant to him.
Finally, he just had to speak what was in his heart.
“I was positive you wouldn’t want to see me. I thought… I thought you hated me. What I’d become.”
“Wesley…” Her brow furrowed, and she looked close to sobbing once more. “I was afraid, yes. I didn’t know what was happening. I thought something had taken you over, and I thought Baron Tremont wouldn’t be the end of it. But it’s been years since then. I understand now.”
A shadow passed across her features and Wesley swallowed, a feeling of cold washing over him.
“It’s not as if I didn’t think of him meeting his end a thousand different ways, didn’t dream of doing it myself. That man was a monster.”
“It hasn’t just been Tremont, Emma. He was just the first. I asked for that power, gave away a part of myself so that I could save you. But I’m not… it’s not something I’ve fought.”
She looked at him so sternly that he almost felt like the younger sibling for once.
“Do you help more than you harm?”
“…Yes, but it’s not—”
“Have you ever used your power to hurt those who could never hope to fight back?”
“No,” Wesley said, prepared to argue again. “But—”
“Then you’re no Tremont, Wesley.”
The words were spoken softly, her hands lifting to his cheeks. He let out a shuddering breath, not realizing he’d even needed to hear such a thing. Of course he wasn’t Tremont. But… he had thought himself a monster. No better than Tremont, perhaps. Evil in a different way.
“I know who you are,” she insisted, her hand moving to his chest, resting just above his heart. “In here. I know you don’t do things without reason, and that you’ve always put others first, even when they didn’t deserve it. But I also know you can become fixated.”
He started to look away from her, feeling the shame of his interest in dark magic, but Emma didn’t let him.
“I know you can resist it, Wesley. Just don’t forget who you are, and you’ll never become what he was. I’m sure of that.”
She reached up again and pulled him down so that their foreheads touched in a familiar gesture he’d made when they were both younger. Quiet affection, given without words or stipulations. It was soothing then, and it broke something inside of Wesley now. Something he’d held on to for far too long.
Tears raced down his cheeks, but he didn’t bother to stop them. His lips pulled into a smile as he looked down at his sister, and he let out a soft laugh.
“You sound exactly like Rhia, you know. I think it’s time the two of you meet.”
Drawing back from his sister, he turned his gaze toward the others who were waiting some distance away. All of them were watching, Rhia’s eyes shimmering with unshed tears, a smile on her lips.
“Emma, I’d like you to meet some people who’ve become very important to me. Karak, Tanris, Liam,” he began, introducing her to each of the guardians in turn, stopping before Rhia. “And this is Lady Rhia.”
“I’m glad to see there are so many people keeping my brother accountable,” Emma joked, dropping into a curtsy. “Lady. Gentlemen.”
Tanris started to open his mouth, but an elbow in the side from Liam made him shut up, to everyone’s benefit.
There was the matter of explaining all of this, though, and over the next couple of hours, Wesley did just that, with Rhia’s help. To his surprise, Emma seemed enraptured, hanging onto his every word as she’d done when he read her stories before bedtime.
“You’ve all had quite the adventure,” she said, wonder in her voice. “Orcs, gnolls, fish people… I can’t even imagine.”
“It’s not something I’ll ever forget,” Rhia agreed, smiling at her as though they were old friends.
And, like old friends, they apparently felt comfortable teasing one another.
“All of these handsome men at your beck and call. Maybe I should get into this Dark Lady business, too,” Emma said with a grin.
Wesley cleared his throat, speaking before anyone else could get a word in—especially Tanris. His sister might be an adult now, but she was still his sister. “All right. How about we never speak of that ever again?”
“Why, can’t handle the teasing when it’s done to you?” Emma asked, smirking at him.
“Oh, I like her,” Tanris quipped, to the agreement of the others.
They bought a round of drinks and Wesley managed to steer the conversation elsewhere, Emma plying Rhia with question after question about their adventures. She seemed genuinely interested, which surprised him to no end. She’d always been smart, but never the dogged scholar. Not the way Wesley was. He was beginning to realize, though, that perhaps her interest wasn’t buried in books, but out amidst the world.
“I’d give anything to see it all,” she said wistfully, confirming his suspicions.
“You can, you know.” Rhia looked to Wesley, his eyes widening, surprise stealing across his features. “You could come with us. See all of these things for yourself.”
“I’d hate to put her in danger,” Karak said with a frown.
“She won’t be in danger,” Rhia scoffed. “We’ll all be there, and I’m sure we can teach her things that will help.”
“Really?” Emma’s eyes were wide and round, making her look like a child again. She turned her gaze upon Wesley, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to resist. “Are you… okay with that? I won’t get in the way. I started studying herbalism and the healing arts. I’d love to learn more and have reason to practice.”
Wesley looked around at the others, none of whom seemed inclined to tell his sister no. There was little hope for him, then, and in truth, he didn’t want to deny her. They’d been separated for what felt like a lifetime. Ebonhold would be dangerous, yes, but he trusted Rhia. At this point, he even trusted the other guardians to ensure nothing happened to her.
Letting out a dramatic, put-upon sigh, Wesley gave the only answer he could give. “Lucky for you, I know just the person you can study under.”
Chapter 33
They left Platsia only once Stragar was taken into custody.
Gossip spread like wildfire
across the city, the man having instantly implicated Lady Tremont in the whole affair, after saying he didn’t agree to anything of the sort. Lady Tremont must have used the full force of her power and influence, because the word that circulated throughout the city was that he’d been a jealous, would-be lover who’d written her those letters despite Lady Tremont repeatedly telling him she would have him hanged if he ever raised a hand against her husband, in word or in deed.
There was, of course, perfectly legitimate correspondence in Lady Tremont’s own hand that absolutely wasn’t written after the fact and passed off as evidence with a hefty bribe attached.
It was messy, but Stragar evidently spewed such vile hatred when he was locked up that Rhia had no doubt in her mind he would have killed Baron Tremont, and likely done the same to the man’s widow when she didn’t give him what he wanted. He might not be guilty of the murder, but he wasn’t an innocent man. It was enough to put her conscience at ease, at least.
They remained in the city just long enough to buy some supplies and clothing for Emma before setting off for Ebonhold the next morning. The ride was a long one, the horses keeping a slower pace than before so they weren’t made lame after all the back and forth, but without the sense of urgency, Rhia just enjoyed the journey.
She began to look forward to the moment when they passed the Divide, the land bridges there leading into a stretch of barren ground that eventually opened up to the lush, colorful forests she was beginning to love. Watching Emma react to everything made it all the sweeter, as she seemed genuinely intrigued by the world around her. She’d need to learn to defend herself if they were going to take her beyond Ebonhold, but Rhia hoped they could do so eventually.
