I counsel a bath first, but yes.
Unable to take Gerant in his arms, Amris settled for projecting the feeling of warmth as strongly as he could, hoping it came through the link. “I would have died happily as an old man with you, if things had been different.”
And I you. But happiness is never only one thing. All three of us might find it in another form, here and now.
Chapter 32
Blood never really came out of leather. Darya didn’t know much about laundering clothes, but since she’d entered the field, she’d been able to count her kills by the marks on each doublet, until they got too torn up to mend. The one she’d worn to Klaishil wasn’t there yet, though the rents across the chest weren’t helping. She squinted, punched another hole with her awl, and tried not to speculate about Amris.
She’d nearly choked on her ale when Gerant had spoken up that morning:You really should take him to bed and be done with it.Darya had started to apologize then—if she couldn’t control her feelings, she could have at least been less obvious about them—but Gerant had cut her off.I mean every word of it, and I’m not being snide. Nor will I get my nose out of joint, particularly since I don’t have one.
The discussion that followed had left her stunned, and wanting to be glad but not daring to. Gerant was fine with her and Amris; that didn’t mean Amris would be. What some people defined as loyalty was strange, and, hell, maybe knowing that she wasn’t off-limits would kill any desire he’d had for her. Amris hadn’t struck Darya as the type, but she was no great judge.
She drew a string of rawhide through the holes she’d made, careful not to yank it. The damned things snapped easily. The light was fading outside the window.
Amris was in the hall outside when she felt his presence. Darya put the armor aside quickly. If she tried to keep mending, she’d muck the whole thing up. That meant she had no way to look casual when he came in, but she didn’t care. He could tell through the spell that her heart was racing, and she knew that his was.
Still, they stared at each other for a long time. The setting sun lit him from behind, and he became a tall, columnar shadow of a man, which made it easier to speak. “You talked to Gerant?”
“Yes. I gave him into Olvir’s keeping. He said he’d no wish to intrude on our speech.”
If it wasn’t only Darya’s imagination, Amris had hesitated a moment before saying “speech.” He was unarmored, and his hair was wet. As the light shifted outside, she could see that his borrowed white shirt was almost transparent, with the shadow of dark hair visible beneath.
She swallowed and stood, mostly for the need to act. Lust was beginning to tighten her groin, but she didn’t dare focus on it yet. This might be a rejection in person. “So…” In the end, she shrugged and retreated to the blunt speech she knew best. “I’m up for it if you are. No obligation.”
In answer, he crossed the room and pulled her against his body, tight enough that she could feel every inch of his rigid cock. “Does this resemble any obligation you’ve heard of?”
Darya laughed, wound her arms around his neck, and kissed him.
* * *
Long, wonderful moments passed before Amris lifted his head and looked down at the woman in his arms. She fit very well there, her breasts soft against his chest, her waist and back toned muscle beneath his splayed hands, her head just enough below his that he could pull back from kissing her and see the red flush on her pale cheeks, the darkness of her parted lips.
He made a sound in his throat without realizing it, a sigh of appreciation, and she smiled: hot, sweet, looking more intoxicated than she’d ever done the night before. “Well,” said Darya, sliding the words out on a warm breath against Amris’s neck, “consider the sentiment returned. With interest… Ahh.”
Amris had lowered one of his hands, tracing a light trail down her spine to a spot just above her backside. He felt her shiver against him, and the rapid rise and fall of her chest. “Mmm,” he agreed. “Just so.”
In response, she brought her mouth to his again. As their lips met, Darya insinuated her own hands under the hem of his shirt. Her callused fingers were hot against his bare skin, her short nails providing just the right blend of sharpness and pressure when she dragged them up his stomach, and Amris groaned.
“Do we have the room for a while?” he managed to ask through the haze.
“Don’t know.” Darya punctuated the short sentence with a lick up his neck to the spot behind his jaw. “Don’t care. They’ll leave if they come in.”
He ached for her, and gods knew it wouldn’t have been the first time he’d taken his pleasure heedless of potential spectators, but still Amris hesitated. It had been a while—rank had its privileges—and even in the midst of desire, he had no wish to deprive anyone else of rest.
Darya circled her fingers around one nipple and added, “Always the wine cellar.”
“Mmm—the—what?”
“Wine cellar.”
“Explain,” he said, inadvertently falling into the deep voice he used to command.
Darya shivered again, the motion mind-stopping when it meant her thighs trembled against his erection. “Yes,sir,” she said with a grin. “Not much wine there now. But it’s where the soldiers go to have a good time, if their mates are trying to sleep in the barracks or whatnot. If—”
At that point, she stopped talking. Given that Amris had taken her earlobe gently between his teeth and wound one hand into her hair, he would have been disappointed if she hadn’t. “If?” he said nonetheless.
She laughed again, glorious as she’d been the first time she’d kissed him, and reached down to cup the pulsing ridge of his cock. “If you can make it that far.”
