“Have I taken your spot?” I asked and got a twitch of a long whisker.
“She will use all of her feline skills to make you feel great guilt,” Teryn called from the bath as he splashed about in what had to be chilled bathwater. He emerged a moment later, skindappled with water beads, the aroma of sand sage strong once more. Passing by the bed, he slowed to place a rounded glass bottle on the small cabinet beside the bed and hand me a wet cloth. “Do not let her move you from my bed. I’ve dreamed of seeing you like this for the past many nights.”
A flush ran over me. “You’ve dreamt of me?” I washed my cock and balls off I spoke.
“Mmhmm, many times. Daydreams as well as nightly fantasies.” He poured us two cups of tea and returned to the bed, handing a dark sienna cup to me before shooshing the cat to the end of the bed. She went, but not without a scowl directed at me. “It should be just right for sipping.” He sat at my side, legs folded into a loose knot, and took a taste of his tea. His lashes closed in rapture. “That is almost as wondrous as making love to you.” My eyes flared in mock anger as I wiggled up to sit. “Almost. Nothing is as delightful as being under you.”
“You were pleased?” I asked, suddenly shy for some reason. No, perhaps not shy. Anxious. Worried if he had not enjoyed the encounter, for I surely had.
“Pleased does not adequately describe the feel of the ground shaking under your feet,” he answered, dark eyes mirthful as they found me over his teacup.
“I am glad.” I’d always been what I hoped was a conscientious partner in bed. I took a sip of the red tea and coughed. The heat of the black pepper caught me off guard. “Oh, that is…that is quite zesty.” I drew in a breath through pursed lips to cool my tongue.
“You will find, my beautiful guardian, that most things from my lands are well-spiced and tangy.”
“I see that to be the case,” I replied, placing my teacup on the round table beside the bed so I could caress Teryn’s shoulder. “You are a beautiful man.” I ran my hand up the side of his long neck and played with the charms dangling from hisear. There were several things I wanted to say—some romantic, some decidedly not. I wavered between telling him that his eyes held me enraptured and asking what he felt should come next. Should we part now? Yes, that seemed the right course of action. We’d slaked our thirsts. Leaving this bed, this chamber, and this man behind would be wise. I knew it. And yet, the thought of not being at his side for however long these negotiations dragged on felt like a death from a thousand cuts.
“Your thoughts have taken you elsewhere.” He placed his tepid teacup on my stomach and spread my legs with his hands. Steadying the cup, I watched, enthralled, as he knelt between my thighs, his rump on his heels, and took my flaccid cock into his mouth, his gaze on me as he ran his tongue around the head. With a deftness that spoke of experience, he eased the foreskin back to suckle just my cockhead. My back arched, my prick fattening quickly. He pulled off gently, spittle on his lips. “I am just egotistical enough to demand my lover’s full attention when they lie naked in my bed.”
My lips ticked up at one corner. “Please continue. You have my full attention now.”
With a smug wink, he lowered himself down once more, sucking me into his mouth and down his throat. His mouth was slick and wet. He rolled my stones, tugging on them just hard enough to send a rush of pleasure/pain throughout me. When he had me breathless and on the edge, he shimmied over me, found the ornate glass bottle, and poured out a handful of bath oil into his palm.
“Now that I have all of your most urgent focus,” he purred as he coated my cock with so much oil it ran over my balls to soak the sheeting under us. The washerwomen would not be pleased with us on the morrow. “I find that I’m still in the mood for riding.”
“By Ihdos,” I gasped when he eased himself up and then sat down on my glistening prick after tossing the teacup aside. This joining was slower, less rabid, gentler in many ways. We kissed and teased as he rode me until we both found release in crashing waves that robbed us of our breath and our senses.
With him lying atop me, bathed in sweat and seed, with a cat curled beside my foot, I held him to me as he drifted off to slumber. My hand lay on the curve of his back, just above the taut orbs of his arse, my other rested on my brow. I should dress and leave. Thank him for a night of pleasure that I would carry with me forever and put it behind me. Yet I lingered, the sound of the sea and the soft snores of the man resting peacefully on me lulling me into a deep, sated sleep.
We slept undisturbed long enough for the candles to burn down to nubs. What woke us was not the call of nature, nor the urge to seek each other out for another heated tumble. What woke us, at roughly the same time, was a loud exchange outside Teryn’s door. He sat up, his confusion clear as he rubbed at his bleary eyes. I, trained to snap awake faster, moved him from my chest just as the door was kicked in and several guards—Sandrayan and Melowynn—exploded into the chamber like a knotted ball of playful pups. Only these men and women were not playing. The door hanging off one hinge proved that.
I pulled a dark blue covering over my groin and bellowed. “Halt!”
My men responded. The Sandrayans did not. Not until Teryn barked at them in their native tongues. Only then did they lower the pronged spears that they had been using as staves to beat back my guards. My guards, who also had weapons drawn.
“Sheath your swords!” I roared, getting to my bare feet, unwilling to think about what those who served under me thought of finding their guard captain in such a compromising position. Pehdra darted out into the hall, tail bushy, as I bentdown to fetch my trousers from the floor. “What in the name of Ihdos is this about?” I asked, dropping the sheet to step into my pants, my backside bared to all for a moment. When I turned, cock and balls hidden, my cheeks still aflame, I glowered at the tense group. “I asked what this is about!”
“Captain, the king and his advisors have decreed that all Sandrayans in the castle be brought to the throne room immediately,” a lesser guard—a blond boy I had not seen before—crisply replied. I shot a look across the room to Teryn, who had pulled on a robe, a thicker one than the one he had modeled for me earlier this eve, praise the moon sisters. He was as confused as I, it seemed.
“That is absurd. It is the middle of the night,” I countered, my mind still fuzzy with lingering sleep. I’d not touch on what remained, dried like cobbler’s glue on my chest and stomach. “What reason would King Aelir have for such a decree?”
“Captain, sir, Prince Al’fur and Princess Alfina have been kidnapped. The nanny is unwell and presumed poisoned, and Royal Ward Guardian Plumwax lies near death. There is the lingering residue of dusk spear bloom on a jug of goat’s milk found in the nursery, the healers are saying.”
I glanced at Teryn for an explanation. He looked stricken. “Dusk spear cactus blooms only at twilight along the southernmost cape of our homeland. When ground, the flowers and thorns cause paralysis. It is highly regulated by our clerics. I do not…” He ran his hand over his chin. “I see how this may look to the king, but this was not done by my entourage, I vow it.” I looked at his guards, poised and ready to strike, and then at my men, almost eager to lash out at their dark-skinned cousins.
“By Ihdos,” I whispered as my sight darted once more to Teryn, pale as butter curd, now surrounded by a half dozen Sandrayan guards on full alert. “We shall head to the throneroom now. Lower your swords. These people are not our enemies.”
I prayed that last statement proved to be true…
TENSION WAS AS THICK AS WIDOW POPPY’s dark berry pudding as we made our way to the throne room. No one spoke. Teryn, still in his robe and barefoot, seemed lost in thought. I had pulled on the casual clothing that I’d donned last night before I’d been so delightfully sidetracked by Teryn. With the pallor of dread already creeping through Castle Avolire, a small, ugly voice whispered to me. Was Teryn part of this kidnapping scheme? Had he waylaid me from heading to town? No, that made no sense. Whether I was in a pub or in his chambers would not have made a difference. Even as I shoved that nonsensical thought aside, the fingers of distrust lingered, and I loathed its arrival.
I turned to the blond guard who had spoken up earlier. “Are we sure the children are not in the castle? They have done this before, hidden so deeply in one of the many vast parlors or the upper tiers of the royal library that we had to bring in one of the hunting hounds to locate them.”
“There are no signs of them so far, Captain. And the nanny and their assigned protector being laid low with Sandrayan herbs points to a kidnapping.”
Shit. Yes, sadly, the paralysis of the adults in the nursery did not bode well for our guests. I glanced over at the envoy, his stride sure but relaxed, his jaw tense though. Gone was the ruddy afterglow from our hours of loving each other.
“Yes, of course.” I pushed into the throne room after passing several squadrons of guards, all on high alert, placed at every exit of Avolire. Stepping inside, my sight flew to the two dozen or so Sandrayans lined up against the far wall, their eyes darting about the gilded room that housed the ivory throne. Teryn bolted to his son and daughter, the only two given seats to rest in. The three of them hugged. Teryn cupped their cheeks, searching their faces for signs of abuse. They spoke in hushed whispers in their lyrical tongue. My sight flew to the king, Umeris, and Le’ral, all rumpled from sleep, their worry a dark cloud over their heads.
