Geva should have been fully focused on that first point — because wait, had Rathgarr really hired her in part to impress hisbrother?! — but instead she seemed stuck on the second. On how there was yet more of that tension in his voice, in his clammy-feeling fingers.Our mother doted upon him.
“And how aboutyouand your mother, then?” Geva heard herself ask. “You didn’t worship her the same way, I take it?”
Rathgarr barked another too-loud laugh, even emptier than before. “No,” he said. “I did not. My mother and I were never… in accord. Too much like mywitless, brute orc father, she liked to say.”
His voice had slipped into a distinct northern accent, suggesting that these were indeed his mother’s exact words, in her own voice. And gods, Geva couldn’t imagine her own warm, generous mothereversaying such an awful thing, and suddenly there was just more commiseration, more sympathy, tightening in her chest.
“Well, your mother clearly didnotknow you very well,” she said firmly, nudging Rathgarr’s elbow with hers. “Because no matter what kind of act you put on, you are quite possibly the most devious, calculating person I’ve ever met in mylife. Why, if I didn’t know better, I’d have thought you and Killik were the best of friends today! And I reallydidthink you’d lost that match, fair and square.”
Her blatant attempt at distraction was rewarded with a deep but tolerant-sounding huff, a quirk of Rathgarr’s brow toward her. “Ach, you played a good game in this also, poppet,” he replied, his voice far lighter than before. “I almost believed youwishedto kneel for me in the dirt, and tend to my every need.”
Of course he would go straight there, the slimy bastard, and Geva gave an irritated groan, even as she flashed him her broadest, sweetest smile. “Ididdo a good job of that, didn’t I?” she said smugly. “So good, in fact, that I think you should increase my payment tofivecoins.”
Rathgarr scoffed, but now his mouth was twitching up, too. “Five is for that pretty, plump rump of yours, poppet,” he replied. “We agreed upon three, for your mouth.”
Geva’s breath caught for an instant — he thought her arse waspretty? — but she quickly composed herself, and shot him another sickly-sweet smile. “And we also agreed that you’d pay me more for good performance,” she airily pointed out. “And you yourself just admitted that I gave you a truly excellent performance, didn’t you?”
Rathgarr’s mouth was still curving up, into something almost like a grin. “Mayhap I shall further ponder more coin for this,” he purred, “iftonight, you prove to me you can recallallyou have learnt today, ach?”
Geva spluttered and flailed at him, but it was an unfairly effective challenge, and one that seemed to hover powerfully between them for the rest of the day’s journey. And despite Geva’s best attempts at distraction — including her usual loved-up charade for the passersby, as well as stilted discussions about the weather and the road — she found her traitorous thoughts wandering toward that challenge again and again. Toward how he’d caressed her, when she’d been kneeling between his thighs. How he’d watched her with such approving, glittering pride.Good poppet, he’d said.Good.
By the time they’d finally settled into their room for the night — again, predictably, with only one bed — Geva was nearly vibrating with tension, and she was almost certain Rathgarr was similarly preoccupied. A suspicion that was only reinforced by the fact that he hadn’t ordered a bath this time, and instead — Geva’s breath choked — after sweeping off his fur and cloak, he promptly sprawled his big body back on the too-small bed, and began unbuckling his belt.
“Come, then, poppet,” he drawled, patting the bed beside him, as he brazenly reached down into his trousers, and drew out —that. Already swollen and veined and dripping, and shuddering even fuller against his casually stroking fingers. “Time to show me what you have learnt, ach?”
And curse her, but Geva’s mouth was already watering, and she swallowed hard, and attempted a chilly smile. “You know, you are theworstemployer,” she informed him, even as she stepped on shaky legs toward the bed, and climbed up to kneel between his sprawled thighs. “Greedy, and cheap, and shameless, and unappreciative, and —”
But her voice broke off into an enraged growl, because Rathgarr had cupped his big hand around her head, and abruptly dragged her downward. Straight toward that waiting swollen heft, prodding purposefully against her lips, and then — oh,hell— delving its way into her mouth. Sliding deeper and deeper, until her lips were stretched wide around him, and his hard rounded head was jutted up tight and close against her swallowing, convulsing throat.
“Ach, much better,” Rathgarr coolly informed her, with a smug, infuriating grin. “You are so much sweeter, poppet, with a good fat prick blocking your ungrateful little mouth.”
Geva glared viciously up toward him, and — oh gods, what was shedoing— let her teeth clamp against the swollen flesh filling her mouth. Not hard, but certainly enough that he could feel it, his body stiffening beneath her, his eyes flashing with mingled amusement and disbelief. And without warning, he whipped her head up and off him, grasped the base of his shaft… and used it toswat her across the face.
Geva’s shock was genuine, her mouth still half-open, her cheeks gone far too hot — and in return, Rathgarr flashed her a taunting, satisfied smile. “That is what wilfulness shall gain you, poppet,” he said. “Nowbehave. Show me how good you can be.”
He’d nudged that slick head back against her lips, and oh, gods, Geva was already kissing at him, softly this time, just the way he liked. Holding her blinking eyes to his, in something that felt too close to contrition, toeagerness. And perhaps he even saw that, his big hand caressing down the side of her face, his mouth curving up.
“Good,” he murmured. “Now, do you remember how to please me? Or have you already forgotten all your lessons, my prickly little schoolmarm?”
Geva managed an irritable groan, and even a creditable roll of her eyes at the smug bastard — and this time, he drew back his big hand, and gave her cheek a light, gentle slap. “I said,behave,” he growled, in a voice that shot an unaccountable surge of heat into her lower belly. “Else you shall be licking your seed off this filthyfloor, poppet.”
Geva’s breath choked, her mouth grimacing around his slick head with too-visceral disgust, and Rathgarr laughed, the sound low and rolling, his hand patting her cheek. “Now get to work,” he purred, flaring another flush of heat deep into her groin. “Show me what I have paid for, poppet. Impress me.”
And damn the infuriating menace, but Geva wanted to impress him, she did — and without at all meaning to, she was holding his eyes, and doing it. Kissing him, caressing him, soft and gentle at first, coaxing him to full hardness against her lips and tongue. And then adding both hands, stroking and sliding, and delving down to find his heavy bollocks, rolling them gently in her fingers. While keeping her gaze to his face, watching his eyes flutter, his nostrils flaring, his lips parting with his breaths…
“Now deeper,” he ordered, with infuriating steadiness, and a slight roll upwards of his hips. “Milk me with your throat until youchoke.”
Good gods, this ungratefulcheat, but Geva was desperately nodding, and taking him deeper. Gouging him into her throat, while also hollowing her cheeks, tightening the suction, just the way he’d taught her. And then putting it all together, sucking and stroking and fondling, revelling in the silky sweetness now oozing into her mouth. Milking even more of it out of him, showing him,impressinghim…
And yes, there was that look in his eyes, the glittering gatheringpride. His fingers spreading against her sweaty cheek, his black tongue slipping out, as his cock swelled even fuller between her already-stretched lips, prodding even deeper into her convulsing throat. All hot sweet invading heat, slick and sliding, closer and closer, his bollocks tightening, his breath catching, his —
His release flooded out in a rush, pouring with furious force down Geva’s blocked, desperately gulping throat. Surging so strong that she couldn’t stop herself from gagging on it,damnit — until he yanked himself out, away. Leaving her coughing and dragging for air, and reflexively spitting out a full mouthful of thick sticky sweetness.
But at least she hadn’t spat onto his clean white tunic, because Rathgarr had snapped both his big hands toward her face, cupping them beneath her spitting, dripping mouth. Catching nearly all of that viscous, sweet-scented white, but for a few strands already slipping between his fingers.
“Drink it,” he breathed, an order, or perhaps a plea — and amidst her hammering heartbeat, the heated flush pulsing through her entire body, Geva accordingly bowed her head, and… licked at it. Licked at this, at his own hot fresh sweetness, cupped here in his own hands, for her. Feeling almost like a gift, an opportunity, a reward…
Her face was smarting painfully now, but she kept licking, drinking up everything he would give her. And when there was no liquid left in his big palms, she licked them clean too, and then his big fingers, one by one…
