by Ines Johnson
Khial stumbled, his eyes fixed on a portrait of a young Dain on the wall. In the picture, Dain looked healthy and happy, his golden locks shining around his handsome face.
"Dain would have never asked me to harm anyone. It wasn't in his nature. He only ever asked me to show others mercy or kindness. The last thing he asked me to do was take care of you and the baby. When you got sick earlier, it scared me. Everything I ever came to care about has been taken from me."
Chanyn ran her hand down his cheek. Khial shuddered, closing his eyes for a moment, as though willing himself to be still and receive the affection. Chanyn nearly pulled her hand away, but decided to keep it there.
When Khial opened his eyes, they burned into hers. "I wanted you that first day we met you. Other than Dain, I hadn't wanted something for myself in so long, and I thought you were going to try and take him from me."
Chanyn smoothed her thumb over his cheek; the coarse stubble gave her little resistance. "I just wanted to be included."
Khial covered her hand with his. "I know that now." He scooted closer and placed a hand on her cheek. "Chanyn, I... I come with a lot of baggage."
"So do I."
"I'm not a perfect man. I'm not the storybook hero like Dain."
"Yeah, I kind of figured that out," she deadpanned.
Khial froze, uncertainty on his face. Chanyn quirked an eyebrow, hoping he'd find the humor in there. It took a second, but finally a chuckle bubbled out of his chest.
He was so boyish when he laughed, when he was unguarded and forgot to shield himself from the world. Unfortunately, his shields didn't stay down for long.
Khial sobered and rebuilt his mask. But the material had grown weaker. "I'm not thoughtful like Dain. I'm not patient like Jian. I don't know that I can love you the way either of them did. But I do care about you, Chanyn. I want to provide for you, protect you, and please you."
"Okay," Chanyn said. She wanted those things, too. Not only for herself; she wanted to provide, protect, and please Khial in return. They both deserved happiness after the rough beginnings of their lives.
Khial's eyes scanned her face. Whatever he read there made him nod. "Okay," he said.
Then he leaned in, carefully, concentrating. When their lips met, it wasn't the bliss that came on Jian's breath. It wasn't the compassion that came with Dain's. Khial's kiss was his own: eager, fearful, and determined.
Chanyn relaxed into him, letting him explore her. His hands held her gently. His lips sipped at her as though she were the thing to quench the thirst within him. Khial turned her head here and there to gain maximum access. Before long Chanyn clung to him neglecting her lung's need for air.
Khial pressed her down into the couch. She felt his erection throbbing between two layers of clothing. In response, her own core heated. Chanyn became torn between pressing her legs together to relieve her ache and spreading them wide to welcome Khial.
Khial pulled away from her, breathing heavily. With shaky hands, he reached beneath her dress. Reaching her underwear, his eyes asked for permission. Chanyn gave a dazed nod and felt a tug. His knuckles brushed against her moist core and his eyes widened in surprise.
His hand shook as he relieved her of the under garment. His movements frantic, he shoved his pants down and knelt between her legs. Chanyn felt him fisting himself. He trembled as he aligned the head of his penis with her core.
He shoved into her.
Chanyn gasped. Not in pleasure. Not quite. Khial's penis was long and thick, leaving her feeling full. However, there was too much friction to enjoy the fullness.
Khial failed to notice. His face screwed in rapture as he withdrew and plunged again. And again. His pace became faster, his thrusts frantic. It became increasingly uncomfortable. Before Chanyn could decide how to voice her discomfort, it was over.
Khial shuddered inside her and slumped down into the crook of her neck. His penis softened, taking with it her discomfort. He lay atop Chanyn, his tremors subsiding, his breath unsteady, his face unguarded. A sudden protectiveness washed over Chanyn, and she stroked his neck for long moments after, as he lay there.
Finally, he straightened on his arms, a small sheepish smile on his face. Chanyn tried to return the look. Evidently, she failed.
"You... didn't?" he asked.
She searched for phrasing that wouldn't hurt his feelings.
"Did I hurt you?" Khial pulled away, his face knitting up the unguarded expression.
Chanyn fought the instinct to cover herself. Khial did it for her. He slid her dress down over her exposed thighs. Then he stood, fastening his clothing, his shield closing into place.
"Khi—" Chanyn tried to sit up, but the venture was difficult and she winced.
Khial caught sight of her expression. In one second flat his shield fell. The carefully knit expression unraveled into horror and shame.
"I'm sorry," he said. "I won't come near you again."
"Khial!"
But he was already out the door.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Khial heard Chanyn call after him, but he couldn't turn back. He couldn't face her. His pride would not allow it, though his desire for her burned bright.
It was like touching a star.
Dain's words ran on a loop through Khial's head. Being inside Chanyn's wet, hot pussy had set him on fire. Khial burned to return to her and sink once more in the inferno between her thighs. He'd sated himself only moments ago, but he'd begun to grow hard again the moment he'd pulled away from her. That is, until he saw the pinched look on her face.
He raced down the hallway, putting distance between them. Ignoring Rianald's call, he burst through the front entrance and out into the cool night air.
For just a moment, I touched the Goddess.
When Dain had said that to him, Khial wondered if it was the illness talking. Now he knew from firsthand experience that the man spoke the gospel truth. Khial had no complaints about his sex life with Dain. He'd felt fulfilled with every encounter, wanting more after each time. But being with Chanyn was something entirely different.
The moist heat of her. The soft constriction. The moist heat.
Khial's balls, emptied just moments before, felt unbearably heavy. He came to the end of the property and sat down on the curb at the main street. In the distance he could see cars carting people home after work or headed out to enjoy the city nightlife. It became a blur to Khial.
His heart ached from the loss of Dain.
His jaw throbbed from the kick delivered by that ruffian the night before in the shelter.
His head felt dizzy from the visit to his mother's cell.
And now his balls and dick wanted in on the pity party.
Khial's mind and body swirled with too much sensation. He couldn't hold on to any thought for too long. Only one thing was certain. He wanted to be back inside Chanyn.
In those few moments, he'd known peace. That same sense of peace he had after making love to Dain. In that space, when he'd pounded every ounce of pleasure from his lover and then lay in the cradle of his arms. Khial had stolen inside Chanyn, emptied his very soul into her, and known a deep sense of rightness. Only, when he opened his eyes, he found that she had experienced only discomfort and pain.
He didn't need his mother to ruin anything. He'd done a damned fine job of it himself.
When Khial was a child, peaceful moments scared him. He knew they were the calm before the storm. The only safe place in the storm of his parents lay in the eye, where he could see the fighting around him. Seeing the winds of destruction let him know which places were safe to hide. When the storm was out of sight, he felt entirely unsafe.
For the last ten years, his mother had been out of sight. Khial existed in a state of anxiety, waiting for the storm to approach. Watching for it on all fronts. Putting up shields to protect the man he loved. But that storm never came. His mother's destructive forces had been dismantled, caged, forgotten. The storm that did come hid inside Dain. Dain's illness,
quiet and out of Khial's sight, blindsided him.
The first time Khial laid eyes on Dain, the boy flashed him that brilliant smile and Khial felt the ground fall out from under him. He heard the wind in his ears. He felt robbed of breath. Dain had knocked him flatter than any of the storms his parents stirred into existence. But Khial had never turned away from Dain. Never stepped out of Dain's eyesight. For years, Khial chased after the storm, until Dain's winds ceased and left Khial torn apart in the wake of its destruction.
The first time Khial saw Chanyn he felt that same prickle of wind at the nape of his neck. Everything in him told him to run. That this would be the storm to end all storms. He needed to run away from her. Run far and fast.
Khial stood and turned back to the house.
"Lord Khial?"
Khial turned at the sound of that deep, lyrical voice. The monk had the type of voice meant for singing. Once more Khial wondered what he would sound like accompanying his violin.
"Is everything all right, my lord?"
Khial thought to ask the monk the same question. Gone were his ceremonial robes of green and brown. He stood before Khial dressed in a plain cloth shirt and slacks, a back sack slung over his shoulder. The monk's broad shoulders filled out the shirt nicely and his muscled thighs rounded out the pants. Still, the clothing felt wrong in Khial's eyes. He'd seen the man entirely naked before. The splendor of his body should not be hidden under ordinary cloth.
"What are you doing here?" Khial asked.
"I was just... walking." He gazed up at the house, to the second floor. Exactly where Chanyn's bedroom sat. "Is she all right?"
"She's... She's well." Khial looked away before the monk could read the entire story of his failure in his eyes.
But then he changed his mind. "I need your help," Khial said. "With Lady Chanyn."
The monk waited. His expression, the picture of patience and non-judgment, gave nothing of his thoughts away.
Khial's lips worked soundlessly for a moment, trying to figure out the right words to explain his predicament. "I don't know what I'm doing."
The monk nodded.
"I think I may have hurt her." Khial expected to see anger on the face of the man who loved his wife. Instead, he saw expectancy, as though the monk had been waiting outside to have this very conversation.
"The first time with a woman can be a heady experience for a man. The first few times, in fact. Women are not like men. You need to make them ready."
Khial remembered the monk's instruction with Dain. That Chanyn needed to be touched before he entered her body.
"You have to take your time. Go slowly and be gentle. Their bodies cannot take the same pounding that a man's can. At least, not when they are still new to the act."
Khial also remembered that when Dain entered Chanyn's body that first time, he had been in a hurry as well. He'd gone fast and hard. And she hadn't enjoyed it.
The monk put a hand on Khial's shoulder. "Lady Chanyn is very responsive. Her body will tell you what it needs if you look and listen. If you're still unsure, simply ask her. She's very forthcoming."
The monk gazed up at the window, a secret smile slowly spread across his face. Khial felt the monk's thumb run absently over his collar bone. Back and forth, in a hypnotic motion. Thinking about Chanyn, no doubt.
"Why don't you train me?"
The monk snapped to attention, yanking his hand away as though Khial's suggestion burned him. He took a step back, shaking his head. And then he put up his hands as though to further ward off the suggestion.
"I'll pay you."
"I don't need the money." The monk hitched his pack over his shoulder.
"You love her." Khial didn't put a question mark at the end of the statement. He knew it to be true. If he hadn't seen it in the monk's eyes, seen it in the kisses and caresses he gave Chanyn, he saw it the night before when the monk risked his own life to get Khial back to her. He saw it now, when the monk walked the city at night to gaze up at her window.
But the monk turned away from the idea.
"You love her," Khial repeated. "I don't know how to make her happy, and I want to. I don't want to hurt her. She's been through enough. We've all been through enough. We deserve a little happiness, some pleasure after the rough path of our lives. You said I could choose who I become. I choose to become a good husband to her. Teach me how to please her."
Khial knew the monk would say yes. He saw it in the give of his shoulders. He saw it as the man's head tilted up to the sky. He saw it as the monk turned weary eyes to face him.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chanyn woke up in the morning and began her morning ritual. She went first to the bathroom and kneeled to the porcelain goddess. Praise the Goddess, this morning her stomach decided it would keep her dinner from the previous night.
Chanyn stood and did an about face to relieve herself. She winced at the soreness between her legs. Lifting her nightdress she saw a bit of redness high up on her thighs. She sighed.
Instead of chasing after Khial last night, she'd run a bath and soaked, as Jian taught her. She hadn’t needed the baths after Jian's lovemaking. The warm water and herbs helped after her tryst with Khial. The ache quieted to a dull throb. When she stood now, she barely noticed it. She wished she could run a bath strong enough to soothe Khial. She'd have to find him first. He said he wouldn't run. Part of the reason she opted for the bath last night instead of chasing after him was to learn if that promise had been the truth.
Chanyn dressed quickly. Brent and Tem were disappointed that she insisted on dressing herself, though she did allow them to shop for her and to do her hair every few days.
Chanyn made her way out of her room and down the hall. When she got to Dain's old bedroom, she knocked and waited. When there was no answer, she knocked once more and held her breath.
"He's not there."
Chanyn's heart pounded into her ears at the sound of that voice. She didn't turn around immediately. Instead, she rested her head against the bedroom door.
"He hasn't left you," the voice came closer. "He said he had an errand to run and that he'd be back shortly. Chanyn?"
A firm hand rested briefly at the small of her back before moving away quickly.
Chanyn turned slowly, and there he was. The sun shining behind him from the hall window. His bald head gleaming. His slanted eyes hooded as they gazed down at her. His lips parted in that hungry way of his.
They'd moved closer together. She, away from the door and closer to him. Him, away from the hall window and closer to her. Like magnets.
"What are you doing here?"
"I ran into Lord Khial last night."
"He came to the temple?"
Jian hesitated. "No..."
"No?"
His lips pursed. "I came here."
"Why?"
Jian sighed through his nose, his teeth grit. Then his mouth relaxed in defeat. His lips parted.
"You," he said. His hand raised and grazed her cheek. "I was walking and my feet lead me to you. I supposed I sensed you needed me, and so I came." His shrug looked like surrender. "I will always come when you call. Whether your voice or your spirit, I'll hear it and I'll be at your door."
"I don't understand? You took your vows."
"I did."
They stood without a breath between them. His legs mingling with hers. One of his hands resting at the nape of her neck, the other at the small of her back pulling her body closer.
"Lord Khial told me about last night."
Chanyn's face heated. She tried to turn away, but there was nowhere to hide.
"He asked for my help."
Chanyn turned back to Jian, wetting her lips. "You're going to help?"
His mouth ticked up in that seductive grin. "Do you want my help, my lady?"
Chanyn couldn't form words. She only nodded.
"Then, I am at your service."
"But your vow—"
"My vows do not overrule the needs of my h
eart." He placed his hand over her chest.
A small voice told her to take heed. There was no guarantee to the length of time he'd be here before he left again. But now, just like every other time, she couldn't stay away from him if she tried.
Chanyn reached up to pull him down. When he met her lips, there was no preamble. No sipping or tentative brushes. They delved into each other, getting lost, finding one another. It was a homecoming.
"Ahem."
Only one person would interrupt them on this floor. Chanyn slowly disentangled herself from the man she loved to face the man she'd married.
Khial walked slowly towards them, one hand shoved in his pocket, the other holding a beautifully wrapped package. Watching his powerful legs move in the light cloth of his slacks, Chanyn had trouble recalling the pain of his thrusts. She met his eyes and saw them flare. Jian released his hold on her neck.
Jian's face was impassive but she saw the telltale sign of guilt on his lowered brow. She was sure Khial saw the heat rising off her face and chest. He gave them both an awkward smile. It might have been his normal smile. Chanyn still wasn't used to anything but a scowl when he looked at her.
"Good morning," Khial said.
Jian and Chanyn murmured felicitations back to him.
"How are you feeling this morning, my lady?"
Chanyn heard the weight in the question. How badly did I hurt you? Do you hate me? Will you never let me touch you again?
She stepped toward him. "Khi, I'm fine.
He caught her hands before she could touch him, searching for the lie in those words. Finding none, he swallowed what appeared to be a huge lump caught in his throat. He loosened his grip and stepped into her. His one arm held her stiffly, but his chest felt warm, hopeful, safe.
He stepped back abruptly. "I thought we could try again. Later. With some help." He stretched his hand out to indicate Jian.
