The sudden squeeze of his long fingers around me made my breath catch. I hummed and let my head bounce through a nod.
“Like that,” I urged. “Touch me like that.”
The encouragement spurred him on, and he moved his hand slowly, sparking pleasure in my brain like fireflies glowing on and off.
I nuzzled into his neck and raked my teeth over the spot where his pulse hammered beneath his skin. We moved in unison, one on top of the other, stroking steadily faster.
“I think about this, Kit,” I told him between quickening breaths. “I think aboutyoulike this, and gods…” I groaned and rolled my hips forward. “It’s better than I imagined.”
The pace became uneven and our movements jerkywhile we both gasped at the air. I leaned away enough to look at Kit once more. His eyes were closed and his lower lip was firmly pinned between his teeth, trying to stifle the cry that escaped as a muffled moan when he came, filling my palm with glossy white semen.
The sensation of the hot liquid pooling in my hand sent me over the edge. My body tensed as ecstasy filled me to bursting. Kit didn’t quite catch the fluid that spurted out. Instead, it roped across his bare belly and started me giggling.
Kit’s lashes fluttered, and he looked out at me. He was still holding my member, stroking slowly while he regained himself. I couldn’t help but grin when he glanced at my closed fist, seeming to realize what had occurred.
“Perfect,” I reminded him. “You’re perfect for me, Kit.”
He glanced next at his stomach, then huffed a laugh.
“I love you,” I said, calling his attention. “You know that, don’t you?”
The mood between us sobered. If things went poorly the next day, I wanted him to have that too. My farm, my family, and my love. It was all for him.
Kit nodded. “I know.”
I smiled and bumped my forehead into his. “Good.”
We stayed like that, flushed and sweaty, for a few minutes before I drew a deep breath and swung my leg aside to clamber off him.
“Think I’m due for a wash up,” Kit said, smirking.
I was headed to the kitchen to rinse my hands, but drew up short when he added, “You could join me if you’d like.”
My heart leaped. Did he know how often I wished for that?
I spun away from the kitchen, nodding so vigorously that Kit laughed out loud. As I trotted up beside him, he slidhis arm around my waist. The brush of his bare body against mine started my pulse racing all over again.
He kissed my temple, then kept his face next to my ear as he murmured, “Penny, I meant what I said. I won’t let anything happen to you. You’re too precious to me, too important?—”
I stopped him with a nod, because he loved me, and he wanted the same assurance I had. So I told him.
“I know.”
26
Penny
Otis and Isla, the last initiate pair, returned nearly a month after Kit and I got back. From the smithy, we observed the fanfare as the townspeople flocked to greet and congratulate the recruits’ successful endeavor.
I watched longer than Kit did and found myself thinking bitterly of my father’s remains being viewed as such a prize.
The longer I was away from home, the more I missed it. I worried about Mother and Sayla and the state of things on the farm. The novelty of new places and people had distracted me from the responsibilities I’d left behind, but the announcement of the third Oath presented a fear I could not ignore.
I’d almost died from small doses of hemlock. Passed out in another man’s grave and been warned by the Symbiarch at the mission that I had no constitution for the stuff. Imagining the larger dose soon to be administered kept me awake in the nights leading up to the ritual, and that night was no exception.
I lay in my bed wrapped in blankets that should have kept me warm, but dread chilled me through. It was all I could do to hold still and breathe, remembering how impossible such a simple thing had been after the poison contaminated my body. I’d left my mother and sister with the promise to return a better man. It never occurred to me that I may not return at all.
A folded piece of paper rested on the table beside my bed. I reached over and grabbed it, wanting to crumple it but settling to hold it instead, pressing the creases until they were sharp. I’d written it on a prior sleepless night while wishing I didn’t have to. But considering the danger ahead, I couldn’t afford not to take precautions.
