Clay's green eyes hardened, resembling jade stones. A muscle ticked in his jaw. That anyone would make Kiarra feel poorly about her passionate nature made him angrier than he could express. "They were lying," he said harshly, "or they are frigid prudes. It is entirely natural for a woman to be a sexual creature. Our society needs to be more open about sexuality and experimentation so young girls understand their desires and curiosities are normal and natural. I despise thinking of anyone saying such things to you, Indrasa. Your passion is a beautiful trait. Never fear to be yourself around us."
Kiarra ducked her head, her face coloring. He pushed back her hair, his hand lingering. "My mother did not mind the life. I learned a lot from her and the other women. She is too old now to be a working girl and has taken over running the place after the last Madam died. She cares for her girls; they are like daughters to her."
"It's so very different than the way I was raised," Kiarra mused.
"Is it? Your mother was not happy with your father either. At least I didn't have any of the men my mother entertained hanging about the house bringing me down or making life difficult."
Kiarra forced a small laugh, but Clay could hear the sadness cloaked within the sound. Using his upper body strength, he pulled Kiarra onto his lap and wrapped his arms around her. His bearded chin rested on her drying hair as she tucked herself against his chest. "Sorry, that was insensitive of me to say."
"No, you are right. My mother's life wasn't any better. She was not a whore to the system, but a whore to Fate. The stars determined she should sacrifice her life and happiness just to bear Rowan and I. It was not fair at all."
Clay's hand smoothed down her back and along her bare arm. She felt exquisite nestled against him, perfectly sized to rest on his lap. Her skin was soft, and she smelled of flowers and soap. "Do you wonder if your sister has some role to play as well?" The thought had occurred to him when the King was speaking of Matilda's oldest two children.
Kiarra shrugged, the movement jostling his head. She picked up the rope of blond hair over his shoulder. "If she does, I don't think it will be a positive role."
"Mmm, maybe not." Kiarra loosened the tie of his braid and combed her fingers through his hair. "Your mom has a chance to be happy now," he murmured softly, his eyes fluttering shut as the motion of her hands soothed him.
"Yes, she does. Many years too late, but I hope it will be enough. Will the King provide for your families now that you are Advisors, or supposed to be Advisors?"
Clay's eyes reopened, studying her seafoam gaze. The blue was nearly absent, reminding him of the tempestuous sea before a storm. "He hasn't mentioned it, but the decision belongs to the Merchant Advisor, not the King. We studied the palace accounts this morning, and I didn't see a line item for compensation for our families. I don't believe it has been considered because typical Advisors are older when they are chosen. Regardless, I will send money to Mother out of my own payment."
"You will be paid?" Kiarra asked in surprise.
Clay chuckled, the rumble of his chest jostling her body. "Of course, Indrasa. You should receive a monthly payment as well, though it might be subject to how the kingdom is performing. Ours will as well, to a smaller degree. Have no fear about money, however. The royal coffers are overflowing. This kingdom does not lack in riches."
Kiarra met his gaze, her eyes astute and assessing. He loved the duality of her beauty and intelligence. Everything about her amazed and pleased him. He'd been surrounded by women his entire life and never encountered one as unique as his Soul Match. "Do you believe more money should be given to those under third tier?"
Clay frowned, his thoughts turning outwards. He had always regarded this as the case. In Sheldrake Port, he had seen the disparity between those who upheld House beliefs as opposed to those who shunned the tier-driven society. Coming to Treleaven had narrowed his focus. Master Gregory had kept him so occupied, he had no time or excuse to leave the counting-house.
"I haven't had a chance to visit the fourth tier or the Commoner Housing in Treleaven so I don't believe I can properly answer that just yet. I have always held the belief that Performers provide such a great service to our society; they should become the sixth House. At the very least, they should be regulated under the Merchant House since money is changing hands when goods or services are exchanged."
"I have visited the fourth tier, but can't offer any insight. I've never been in the living units. Fourth tier children who attended our school were generally clothed more poorly than other tiers and had less food for lunch. Mum sent extra food with me so I could share. Many of the lower tier children also drop out of school before testing, especially if they believe they will be assigned a Commoner occupation anyway. I do think their parents work harder. The Mishokian wise woman said something to me I will never forget.
“She said that Commoners shouldn't be punished just because they don't want to forsake their pleasure and free time to climb the tiers. I see how hard my Mum works to progress to first tier. The difference is that she enjoys her work. I imagine a laundress or a scribe doesn't hold so much pleasure in their occupation that they work harder to progress."
"Promotion is not easy for them, either," Clay added. "Once designated fourth tier or below, very few citizens climb above that position. Unlike the top three tiers, they receive no further education, so they have no opportunity or materials to grow their skills.”
Kiarra sighed, slumping against Clay's broad chest. He sensed her defeat and her frustration. "The problems of the kingdom will not be solved overnight, that's for sure. Who would have guessed being Queen would be so difficult?" She laughed humorlessly, and Clay wrapped his arms around her, caressing her soft hair.
"You're not alone," he assured her. He shifted to sit sideways, pulling her legs up onto the couch beside him.
She leaned away from him suddenly, a look of horror shadowing her face. "I'm not crushing you, am I? I know I'm not the lightest..."
Clay placed a finger on her lips. "Shh. I never want to hear you degrading yourself again. I love your body. And I love you on top of me." His lips quirked in a sudden smile as he imagined all the ways he would love her body on top of his. The position worked best for him with his feet. The image of her riding him, her glorious hair unbound and spilling around her, flashed through his mind and he couldn't hide the automatic reaction of his body. Her cheeks colored as she became aware of his hardness under her soft bottom.
His eyes danced with amusement. "As an aside, your Planner asked me last night if I was too injured to perform my husbandly duties."
Kiarra flushed bright red, covering her face with her hands. "He didn't," she moaned in embarrassment.
Clay laughed. "Indeed he did. I assured them I wouldn't be stepping aside. I wanted to assure you of the same."
Kiarra squirmed on his lap in answer, causing him to groan as her softness thrust against his rigid length. "I don't have the same concern, Clay. You feel perfectly capable to me."
"Good." His gaze snagged on her lips as she tugged them between her teeth, her eyes adopting the oceanic color he adored. "We're supposed to be talking about palace accounts and going over money matters, but..."
She answered him by pressing her mouth to his. It was everything he had imagined as he had lain in bed last night, tight and longing. Her lips were lush and warm, deliciously full. He sucked her bottom lip into his mouth, and she gasped, opening for his tongue. He wagered she had been kissed a couple more times since her chaste kiss in the marketplace, but he didn't care. At the moment, she was his. Nothing else mattered.
She responded to his skillful kisses hesitantly at first, but her lips and tongue grew bolder by the second. She turned to press her chest fully against his. Her heart beat against his, fast and strong. He helped her adjust her position, drawing her leg over his lap. She straddled him just as he had wanted from the moment he first saw her. Fire coursed through his veins, his breeches pulling so tightly they were almost painful. Her skirts
had ridden up and her hot mound pressed against his erection. She was so wet; he could feel her dampness through the two layers of clothing between him. He groaned, her obvious desire nearly destroying his strict control. One hand palmed her full ass while the other smoothed over the downy hair on her calf.
She whimpered with need, the sound vibrating along his nerves. His hips thrust involuntarily against hers when she rubbed her hot center against his stiff cock. She was so sensual, responsive, and passionate; he almost spilled in his pants. He pulled away with effort, resting his forehead against hers. Their breaths heaved within their chests together. "I can't control myself around you, Kiarra. If we don't stop now, I'm going to embarrass myself."
Kiarra pouted prettily. "I suppose you are going to tell me I need to wait as well?"
He wondered who had told her to wait. He could imagine Mason saying something to that effect. "No, Kiarra, I won't tell you we have to wait. I will tell you that when I lie with you, I would prefer a bed and assurance we won’t be interrupted. I plan to take my time loving you. I don't want to be rushed."
She considered his words, her mind apparently weighing the pros and cons. They had spent some time talking and a longer time kissing, enough that her lips were swollen and the clock was nearing dinnertime. Finally, she nodded reluctantly. With a heavy sigh, she slid off his legs and sat beside him, rearranging her skirts. He adjusted his pants as well, smiling to himself when she repeatedly glanced at his rather obvious erection. He couldn't hide it at the moment. Her face turned contemplative.
"Does it hurt?" she asked quietly.
His brows lifted. "Does what hurt?"
"Your, um," she blushed again, gesturing vaguely towards his groin. Clay restrained his chuckle. He didn't want to laugh and cause her to feel ashamed.
"Probably as much as you are aching right now," he said, glancing pointedly at her erect nipples. She nodded, drawing her reddened lower lip between her teeth. He almost pulled her back on top of him. His cock throbbed. He longed to damn any interruptions and sheathe himself in her warmth. Her innocence was captivating and beyond arousing. Her passion was like a drug. She had none of the restraint some women employed in an attempt to appear coy. She would be wild in bed, giving and responding wonderfully.
"Does sex hurt?" she asked instead, not meeting his gaze. He forced his mind away from the bed in the next room. His fingers gently took her chin, urging her greenish-blue eyes to connect with his own.
"It shouldn't, Kiarra. If you are still a virgin, you might feel a little pain at first. Whoever takes that from you should know how to ease your pain and make sex pleasurable enough that you forget the slight discomfort. If any of your men do not take the time to properly pleasure you and arouse your passions to a climax, I will personally give them a lesson, Soul Match or not. You are precious and deserve to be treated as such."
Her blush spread across her cheeks again. She rose, rearranging her dress further. A knock on the door surprised them both. She smiled. "We are lucky we didn't go further."
Clay didn't mention that she still looked thoroughly kissed and flushed. He hoped whoever waited on the other side wouldn't mind. He rose to his feet with her, adjusting his pants and willing his erection to shrink.
"Let me answer the door, Indrasa." He grinned, raising one of his crutches in the air. "These pack quite the wallop and will give you time to escape."
She frowned. "I don't want you hurt, either."
He kissed her as he passed, his mouth lingering. "Let me do this," he pleaded quietly. She nodded.
Chapter 5
Kiarra
My skin still burned from Clay's touch as he moved to answer the door. The day had been insightful and frustrating, my introduction to my new life. It was expected everything would change after I tested, but I hadn't counted on such a drastic upheaval.
I hid a smile as I realized I hadn't rebraided Clay's hair. The golden silk waterfall hung halfway down his back. The dying rays of the sun and the lamplight glistened in the highlights. Many women would love a head of hair as beautiful as his.
The knock came again, whoever waited on the other side impatient. Clay grunted as he opened the door. I didn't expect danger to arrive at the entry to my suite but the way the men were reacting made me more nervous. I peeked around Clay's broad form to see Mum and Reed. An unexpected duo, but most welcome. I couldn't decide who to hug first as Clay moved aside to let them into the room. Mum smiled at me but turned to introduce herself to Clay, so I launched myself into Reed's arms. He caught me with an easy smile, his bright blue eyes twinkling with passion and satisfaction. I sensed his excitement.
"You learned something today," I guessed. He nodded, holding me tightly and breathing in my scent. He set me at arm's length and traced a finger over my mouth. I was confident my lips were red and swollen. They still tingled. Reed confirmed my assumption with his next words.
"So did you," he whispered, his lips near my ear. His warm breath directed another stab of desire through me, feeding the fire Mason and Clay had stoked. "I hope you're not moving too quickly. I'd hate to be left behind." His eyes were smiling and not disappointed. Hearing my Mum chatting with Clay behind me, I lifted on my tiptoes to respond. Although he stood a head shorter than Mason and Ian, he was still taller than me.
"Not too fast," I assured him, my tongue tracing the strong tendon along the side of his neck. I rejoiced in the shudder which vibrated through him and delighted in the way his capable hands tightened on my hips. He smelled like books and lantern oil. I tucked a wayward curl behind his ear and brushed a hand over his jaw. It was smooth despite the late hour. He and Seb didn't have the fast-growing facial hair of the other three. Clay's beard was long but also soft. Ian's stubble was a little scratchy, and Mason's face vacillated between smooth and rough depending on the time of day. I hadn't kissed Seb yet, I realized with surprise. I'd have to rectify that as soon as possible.
I squeezed his hand and turned to face my Mum, embracing her tightly. She smiled and mimicked my motion towards Reed, pushing my unbound hair behind my ear. "I'm only here for a moment, Kee. We haven't been able to speak since last night, and I wanted to check on you." Her eyes were sparkling, the constant weary exhaustion lessened. I wanted to ask how the changes were affecting her. I glanced back at Clay and Reed who had seated themselves at the table. They were engaging in small talk.
"Will your revelations wait, Reed?" I asked him. "I'd like to talk to Mum in private."
He grinned at me, displaying the difference in his entire demeanor. Something had transpired today which had eased him and raised his spirits. In fact, since we had shared that unbelievably hot kiss the night before, his attitude had steadily grown more confident and relaxed. I wondered if he had worried about my feelings for him before I kissed him. His happiness now was attributed to his Scholarly exploration, though. I couldn't wait to discover what he'd unearthed.
"I would prefer to wait until all the men are here anyway. I won't have to repeat myself." He shared a meaningful glance with Mum.
My mother made a show of pressing her lips together, her own eyes shining. "I won't reveal any of our findings." He nodded at her, his eyes dancing, and I pulled Mum into my bedchamber. Whatever they had learned, they had done so together, and they seemed to appreciate each other's company. The revelation made my heart sing. Mum took a moment to scan the circular room, noting all the doors. There were five for my men’s rooms, one for my bathroom, and one for the sitting room. I giggled at her raised eyebrows.
"You have a unique setup here."
"Yes. I have no idea how the King managed to arrange all this so quickly." Her lips pressed tightly again, causing me to wonder if the explanation was included in the information they had found. I didn't push her, though. Delia couldn't stand surprises, but I had always enjoyed them to a certain extent.
"How are you, Mum?"
"I should be asking you that question." She joined me on my bed. The stool in front of my dressing table was t
he only other place to sit in the room. The low table was littered with cosmetics I'd probably never use, different face creams, kohl, lip stains, and perfumes with fragrances far too aromatic for my taste.
"You first," I prodded.
She took my hands in hers. Her skin was warm for once. "The unit feels so much calmer without William, although colder without you. Delia is torn between pouting about her father and ecstatic that she has the bedroom to herself. She is convinced her tour with the Queen will positively affect her placement, but only her exam scores will be taken into consideration."
"Where does she think I am?"
Mum gazed down at our clasped hands. "You know how she is. She hasn't asked. Of course, she's aware you're gone, but..."
"She doesn't care," I finished for her. Mum shrugged, ashamed of her youngest child's selfishness. I squeezed her hands. "You're not responsible for her attitude, Mum. What about the Scholar Advisor?"
Mum's pale cheeks brightened. "You caught that, did you?"
I giggled. "Of course, Mum. He looks at you the way my matches look at me. I couldn't help but notice."
"We spent some time today, the three of us, in the University library." She sighed happily. I recognized the emotion, the joy originating from time enjoyed in the company of someone she admired.
"What's his name?"
"Joseph Brown. He's a couple years older than me, and his specialty is kingdom genetics. His research plays an important role in the information we sought today." Before I could ask for more details, she continued. "He said he remembered me from the time we met so many years ago. I didn't think he had, but he said he couldn't stop thinking about me. He has been monitoring my research for many years and admitted he was concerned he carried an unhealthy obsession for a matched woman."
"Have the Tenders confirmed he's your match?"
Echoes of Her Soul Page 4
