But there was still no pain, not yet, and maybe that was because of the still-pulsing liquid, easing the way. Or maybe it was because Rathgarr wasn’t pushing or pressuring with it, or taking more than she could give. No, he’d said he would make it good, make it easy, and he was actually keeping his word. And the blazing, craving heat churning in Geva’s belly flared even higher at the thought, her back arching more, pushing a little deeper…
She could feel his answering shudder inside her,insideher, because oh, that’s where he was now, her body clamping tight against solid, rigid thickness. Against that huge, uncompromising invasion of him, holding her wide open around him. And when she moaned again, clenching him even tighter, he instantly pulsed back, in a silent, dizzying response. In accord. Or maybe, maybe even in… a challenge.
And oh, he wasnotgoing to win with this, and amidst the swelling surging heat there was suddenly determination, certainty, relief. She could do this, she could arch and soften even more, she could welcome the feel of him slipping a little deeper, filling her even fuller. She could hear him gasp, hoarse and low, she could toss her head, and ease back a little more…
Her hair had been pulled up into a twist, one that was already falling out — and she scarcely noticed Rathgarr’s hand moving up to gently tug at it, freeing her coiled black curls around her head. And oh, he actually groaned as both his hands gripped her arse again, drew her even further apart.
“Good?” came his rasping voice from behind her. “More?”
Geva furiously nodded, because hell, yes, she wanted more — and now he was the one prodding, challenging, sinking in bit by bit. That hard intruding flesh gliding in ever further, while she arched more, opened wider, met him, matched him. Feeling impossibly full now, fuller than she’d ever felt in her life, stretched and bared and split wide open around that huge plunging sliding strength, until —
Until there was skin, warm, new, alive. Because he was in, oh he was all the way in, and his hips were settling tight against her arse, his full bulging bollocks swelling close against her wet, swollen heat below. Just where Geva most desperately craved his touch, oh — and she cried out, hoarse and fervent, as she clutched against him, ground against him, encased him hot and whole. Still needing more, more, and that was surely the sound of a muttered low curse behind her, the feel of his hand slipping down, around, and…
“Fuck,” Geva gasped, as that warm hand settled firm and familiar against the curve of her, against her swollen, shuddering, dripping-wet heat. Pressing just perfectly, as two blunt-tipped fingers nudged up beneath. As — she gasped again — they slowly slid up inside, while his big palm kept circling, grinding with slow, beautiful pressure. Just — just the way she’d shown him, damn him,blesshim. And in retaliation — or reward — she drew away a little, and then ground back against him, upon him, even deeper than before.
He hissed and cursed again, his touch stuttering against her — but then it was back again, and he was circling his hips too, moving that massive heft inside her, actually fucking her now, oh, oh. And she was meeting him, taking him, wanting him, impaling herself upon him again and again. She was so open, so exposed, so hungry and frantic and full, she needed it, she needed him, please,please—
And with one last, heated thrust, a choked shout from her throat, she was flying, flaring into the abyss. The relief and the ecstasy seizing in hard, furious pulses, milking that straining, invading heat again and again — and oh, oh, now he was shuddering out, too. His strength inside her swelling and spasming, erupting out stream after stream of rippling warmth. Painting her with him, scenting her from the inside out, oh gods above, oh,oh.
When he finally stilled behind her, inside her, Geva was still trembling all over, and gulping desperately for air — and perhaps so was he, his hands gripped too tight on her hips, his breaths hot and harsh against the sweaty skin of her back. And for a strange, dangling moment, it almost felt like satisfaction, like — victory. Like they’d both met the challenge, and surpassed it, and now they could revel in it, and in one another.
But just as Geva had twisted her head a little, making to look back toward him, she felt his body stiffening behind her, even as his strength jutting into her notably slackened. And as his hand — gods, he’d still had his fingersinsideher — swiftly pulled away, its warmth utterly vanished. And then he was drawing himself out of her, that softened skin sliding away, breath by breath, despite her desperate, helpless clutches against it.
But it was too fast, too soon, and for an instant, there was the bizarre, overpowering urge to beg him to stay. Beg him to keep going, to let her have this, to perhaps do it all over again…
But he was already slipping out, escaping her frantic, pleading clutch with a humiliating little squelch. And where he’d been — Geva squeezed her eyes shut, gritted her teeth — she was…leaking. His sticky wet heat pouring out in a rush, streaming liberally down her trembling parted thighs. And there was no way to stop it, her body stretched and lax and blown wide open from him — and was he looking, was he watching, surely he was, ohhell. And what should she do, the bedding, the mess, his seed —
She’d finally twisted to find his face, perhaps his reassurance — but instead, she found only his darting-away eyes, his hands rapidly fastening up his belt. Because wait, he’d still been fullydressedall this time, while she was here on her hands and knees, her messy hair loose, her body gaping wide open and leaking his fresh seed.
But Rathgarr wasn’t even looking at her now, though that was surely a flush on his cheeks, a sheen of sweat on his brow. “Good — good work, poppet,” he said, his voice husky and thick. “Very good. This was —”
He glanced briefly toward her face, a wild look in his eyes — but then his eyes shuttered again, and he pushed off the bed, and fumbled in his trouser pocket. “Here,” he said, as he drew out a large, glinting gold coin. “Your payment.”
With that, he flipped the coin in his fingers, and then… tossed it toward the bed. Where it briefly rolled in a shimmering circle, before settling to stillness beside her.
It was another ten-piece coin. Ten coins, for that.
And Geva should have been crowing aloud, rejoicing at her victory — but for a long, horrible breath, she could only seem to stare down at it, and then up at him. Her payment. Herpayment. For what they’d just done. Not a challenge, not an adventure together, not a victory.
No, no, it had been aboutwork. About plots, about scent, about impressing and influencing his people at Orc Mountain, and that — that was all.
Only play-acting. Neither should I ever choose to mate you…
“Mayhap I shall go gain us a — a drink,” Rathgarr said now, still not meeting her eyes. “I shall return in a spell, ach?”
Geva somehow nodded, her eyes blinking hard, but he hadn’t even waited for her response, striding swiftly to the door, and slipping out beyond it. Leaving her here, alone, bared and exposed and forgotten on her knees, still with that glinting gold coin beside her.
And before she could stop it, before she’d even seen it coming, she sank to the bed, buried her face in her arms, and wept.
17
By the time Rathgarr returned to the room again, Geva was dressed and curled up tightly in the bed, the blanket yanked up to her eyes.
This was just a job, she’d told herself again and again, as she’d slogged through the highly humiliating cleanup, and then scrubbed herself all over at the washbasin. One month, and then the sea.
Even so, she’d felt almost sick as she’d gingerly picked up that ten-piece coin from the bed, and stuffed it deep into her satchel. Her stomach curdling and churning, while the memories of what they’d done — what she’d done — kept flaring behind her eyes.Need more, she’d gasped, as she’d brazenly arched herself toward him.Give me your seed.
And gods, what had come over her? She could have stopped — should have stopped — far earlier, and still achieved the exact same result. So why had she kept pushing it, pushing past the boundaries they’d both set, they’d both agreed upon? When she knew this was just a job? When she knew exactly how he really felt about her?
