Beyond the length of the platform stood a modest lean-to. Curious, I approached. My mouth agape in sheer amazement, I descended an adjacent staircase, captivated by the array before me. Meticulously displayed inside were weapons of every kind: spears, axes, swords, bows, daggers, throwing knives, and some I couldn’t identify.
I searched the inventory until I found blades that were closest to mine and counted them out. Thirty, which was more than I’d be able to arm myself with. I looked around for a bandolier and saw a sizable wardrobe to my right.
The smallest bandolier was still far too big. I anchored thebottom of it using hand wraps, then tied the fabric across my hips to hold it in place. Doing so meant I could only sheathe ten blades, but it was better than having the bandolier slide. I sighed, missing my own equipment.
Loaded and ready, I walked toward the large wooden poles that rose out of the ground in different heights and colors in the small, adjacent field. They already bore deep marks of training in a high-low pattern.
My chest fluttered as I pulled the first blade, and I had to steady myself to stop my hands from shaking.
The day passed by in a joyous flurry of training. Resting, I rubbed the tips of my fingers where a tender throb from the bowstring and blades had made the skin red and raw. Stars, how I’d missed this, and I knew it wouldn’t take long for the callouses to reclaim their rightful place again.
It was getting late, and my measly breakfast had long since worn off, but I wanted to do another round of throwing before heading back.
As my last blade struck true, I stood up straight and relished the satisfaction sweeping through me before reclaiming the daggers.
“I should have known I’d find you here,” Thaddeus crooned.
I swiveled in place and was met by a feline grin.
He closed the gap between us and was now towering over me. Wearing heels these past few days, I’d almost forgotten how tall he was, and a man’s height was different in bed somehow.
Leaning over, he brushed his mouth along my ear. “Has anyone ever told you how sexy you are when you throw?” His warm lips against my skin sent gooseflesh skittering in every direction. Voice quiet and deep, he said, “After you’d slain that mannequin, I had to pleasure myself before I could get on with my day, lest I get distracted.”
The admission burned its way down to the tips of my toes as I pictured him pumping himself dry. Leaningin, I pressed the flat of my palm against his arousal, and slowly dragged it down the sensitive underside.
He shuddered, and I did it again to elicit the same response.
His mouth met mine, and we claimed one another with frantic, unbridled yearning.
We broke apart only long enough for me to pull his shirt over his head, not even having time to take in his sculpted torso as his mouth crashed against mine. There was no gentleness in his hands as they wrapped through my braids. Tugging my head back, he lowered his head and scraped his teeth across my neck as he rubbed his hardness against my idle palm.
I pushed my free hand against his chest and broke our embrace. His hands slid from my hair, and he made to kiss me. I tilted my head to oblige, but just as he went to make contact, I shifted away—it was my turn to give him a feline grin. Seeing the promise in my gaze, his eyes widened as he pressed his lower lip hard between his teeth.
His corded muscles shifted under my hands as I dragged them up his arms and across his shoulders. He shuddered as I danced my fingertips down his torso, followed by my lips.
Sucking his nipple into my mouth, I bit down softly before rolling my tongue in a lazy circle around it—being sure to give the other side the same treatment. Looking up, I caught his gaze before blowing lightly on the slickness I’d left behind. He breathed in a shaky breath, jaw tight and fists clenched.
Taking my time, I slid down to my knees, kissing and caressing as I saw fit. Once settled, I unbuttoned his pants and dragged my tongue straight across the sensitive skin just above the band of his undergarment. He grabbed for me, but I dismissed the effort, shooting him a look that let him know this was to be a spectator sport only, and feral delight crossed his features.
Thumbs around the waistband, his length sprang forward as I pulled his garments down, letting them rest at his ankles.
I kissed the hollows on each side, making sure he felt my breath as I passed along the part of him craving to be in me—the effortrewarded as his hands flexed out wide, fingers splayed before clenching into fists.
Good, it was my turn to repay his deliciously torturous ministrations.
As I placed his family jewels in my palm, cupping them, he sucked in a breath, and the thickness standing ready twitched in response.
Delicately, I lifted him to expose the sensitive underbelly of his length.
I lowered my mouth to his base. Ready, I paused, knowing the effect it would have. Without warning, I flattened my tongue against him, and slid base to tip in one firm, slow motion.
“Oh gods,” Thaddeus pled.
I slipped him in my mouth, eliciting another moan, and sucked his length in inch by glorious inch. Knowing his size, I added my free hand at his base and began working my hand, mouth, and tongue in unison—sliding him in and out. In and out.
“Nyleeria…I…I want to be inside you…now.”
I sucked harder, returning the favor from the other night, until he understood that I was only after his pleasure. He fisted my braids in response and thrust—it was restrained, but I was ready for him.
