Riding Lessons
Riding Lessons
I had a schedule, I learned when I emerged from my bedroom. Not only that, but I had three dedicated lady’s maids, a secretary, and a personal seneschal who would be my easiest connection point to the running of Celedeis. Syalin ran me rapid-fire through the introductions, and when I balked, told me in no uncertain terms that Ruven’s duties and personality meant that the functioning of Castle Celedeis was never under the hand of one person, and that as Lady Castellan I would be expected to do my part.
The way he said it and the razor-edged smirk he directed my way made me think that I could, in fact, bow out if I wanted to. It was the opposite play to Ruven giving me the out of emptying the vaults and riding off into the sunset: Syalin was handing me the keys to the kingdom, and daring me to fall short. Despite the antagonistic vibe of his relationship with Ruven, it was obvious that the men cared deeply about each other. Syalin clearly didn’t want Ruven or his estate to end up ruined, and Ruven trusted Syalin to make the needed decisions when he couldn’t.
I gave Syalin my own sharp-edged smile, and stepped into my new life as Lady Hartley.
Before the day was out, it was obvious how unprepared I was to act as castellan of a fae castle. I didn’t know the goddam calendar , let alone anything about the functioning of a castle or its duties to the Court. There were a million-and-one things to learn, and I was going to have to learn them at speed. My lessons included High Court etiquette and dancing, because Ruven’s mother was a sovereign princess and as his soulmate I would be expected to attend events with him, but also things like history, economics, and calligraphy.
At least I had a leg up on some of the physical skills. One of the duties of fae nobility was to ensure that their people were fed and kept safe, and at Celedeis, that meant knowing how to hawk, hunt, and ride. As I’d been a journeyman falconer, could shoot a bow passably well, and was a good enough equestrian that I could convince the person who came to test me that I knew what I was doing without having to go down to the stable, I got a pass on those.
Well, I got a pass until ten days into my new life, when my secretary wordlessly passed me my schedule for the day, and I discovered that Ruven had scribbled out two hours of dancing lessons in exchange for “riding Ruven.”
I’d known that bargain would bite me in the ass. I hadn’t even technically agreed to the bargain, but that didn’t seem to matter. Ruven had clearly used it as a way to put the brakes on the intensity of his desire to… mate me… and while the idea of getting onto a horse made me break out in a cold sweat, I had to admit that it was a lot easier to handle him when he had a self-imposed hard stop on his lust.
Every evening, Ruven would knock on the adjoining door and ask if he could sleep with me. Leaning on the doorframe, dressed only in a pair of black underthings as he looked at me with heavy-lidded hunger, he was the picture of sin. I could imagine exactly what it would be like to grab onto those horns like handlebars as he used his forked tongue to wicked ends, or to have that powerful body put to the task of fucking me until I begged for mercy.
Every evening, I set aside that demanding fantasy, and told him he could sleep next to me.
So it was with some trepidation that I got changed into riding clothes and headed outside. Even putting on the familiar breeches and boots left me shaky, with my heartbeat roaring in my ears. I got why people always said you had to get back on the horse when you got thrown. My brain had been given far too much time to inscribe in stone that horses were deadly danger, and now everything associated with them was only a breath away from terror.
I made myself walk down to the castle stables, taking measured breaths and reminding myself that Ruven wasn’t a horse. Even if he looked like a horse when I got there, he wasn’t a horse any more than he was a slothful lordling who bought bondservants at semi-legal auctions. He was a man—a strong, driven, playfully arrogant man who was well aware of his flaws and failures. I woke up every morning to the soft pleasure of his purr and fell asleep every night to the sound of his heartbeat, with his summer scent burying itself deep inside me.
I could still smell him on me if I closed my eyes and paid attention. I hadn’t showered that morning, and he hadn’t showered the night before, so the kiss of his skin was still on mine, a warm, heated, sunlit smell that made me want to throw caution to the wind and tell him to put his face between my legs if he wouldn’t put his hips there. He seemed so confident, but I was willing to bet that he’d be as overwhelmed from the act as I would. We were soulmates. That had to mean more than even his scent-tie to me.
The sight of a black horse brought me to a dead halt, every inch of my body breaking out in sweat. Even the bone-deep knowledge that it was Ruven standing there didn’t help. It didn’t matter that I recognized him. He was a horse , I had to get on a horse —
Panic grabbed me by the throat. Everything went hot, then cold, the world graying out and my breath so harsh I couldn’t hear anything else. I staggered, hitting the ground so hard pain sang up my spine. He was going to throw me, and I was going to fall, fall and break and lose everything. I could feel it— hear it. The sharp snap, the sudden finality, the total loss of all sensation, as if I’d been decapitated. The falling, the snap, The End. The snap, God, the snap—
Ruven’s hands grabbed my face. Ruven’s forehead pressed against mine; his scent and breath filled my mouth and lungs as I hyperventilated. “Hey hey hey, shh, shh,” he said, his voice insistent. His tail wrapped around me. His thumbs stroked along my cheekbones. “You did so well. I didn’t think you would even come. But look at you, all dressed up for me. Those breeches must make your ass look spectacular. As delighted as I am that you came, I’m so looking forward to seeing you leave.”
Hot tears started sliding down my face. I grabbed his arms, fingernails digging in, and hung onto him for dear life. “You asshole,” I forced out. “I can’t believe you’re thinking about my ass while I’m having— having— having a panic attack. You’re fucking— You’re so fucking awful.”
“I am,” he said with a breathless laugh, the sound almost wrenched from his chest, as if his throat was as tight and aching as mine. His hot breath fanned against my face. “People keep trying to teach me manners, and none of it seems to stick. I can wear personas as easily as forms and clothes, but the moment I’m back in my natural shape, my shining personality comes back to the fore.” Ruven leaned forward and licked a hot stripe up my cheek, making me jerk back in shock. “Or perhaps I simply choose to indulge in being myself when I spend so many of my hours as someone else.”
I sniffed and swiped at my cheek with the heel of my hand. “I don’t know that I can do this,” I said, the words thick.
“Of course you can,” Ruven said, as easily as breathing. When I stared at him, taken aback to hear a fae say something so provably false, he grinned at me. “Are you going to make me a liar? I’ll die. Quite horribly, in fact.”
“Asshole,” I said again, with raw disbelief. “Arrogant, egotistical ass —”
Ruven cut me off with a kiss. I moaned, shocked into it, and melted into the heat of his mouth. His hand cupped the back of my head, lips moving with worshipful care against mine. My lips parted before I could think better of it, tongue licking forward.
He answered me with the same hunger. Even the slightest brush of his tongue against mine sent heat shocking down my spine to bury itself in my gut. I panted out that need, burying my fingers in his hair and dragging him closer.
He obeyed with a groan of pleasure. His hot tongue slid into my mouth, the forks of it gripping me. Fuck, he tasted as good as he smelled, raw sex and summer heat made into a man, one who was on his knees in front of me, bending me backwards, hand stroking down my back with demand. One with a tail and hooves and horns, a fucking forked tongue and the sort of thighs I wanted to sink my teeth into.
Impossible, gorgeous, needy Ruven. My rescue. My ruin. I dragged him to the ground on top of me, grabbed his naked cock, and I kissed him like my life depended on it.
He was thick , my fingers not even meeting, and the muscle underneath his pebbled skin flexed against my grip. The wet tip dragged across me, his cock grabbing at my arm as I stroked my hand up the length.
“Fuck,” he snarled, driving his hips against my hand. Ruven kissed me again, fierce and demanding, then snagged me by the wrist. He yanked my hand off of him and pinned it above my head, panting down at me with a predator’s gaze. “You’ll ride me first,” he said in a rough growl. Ruven turned his face to the side and licked my other arm. “Put a bit in my mouth and wrap those perfect legs around my sides. Make me your faery steed and I’ll give you any cock you choose. But you don’t. Get it. Until. Then.”
I lay there in the dirt, all my skin feeling hot and the blood pounding through my veins, staring up into the eyes of my wildling soulmate; I didn’t ever want to be anywhere else. “Faery bastard,” I said, the words thick with desire.
“Such love-bites,” he crooned back, his face dropping closer to mine. “Shall I think of some for you, my dear?”
“Let’s hear them,” I said, still breathing too hard.
Ruven reached up and took my hand out of his hair, running his face along my palm before pinning it up with my other one, moving with languorous decadence. “The end of my world,” he said, savoring every word like it was the best thing he’d ever tasted. “My devastation. My undoing.” His hands tightened on my wrists as he lowered his face to mine, purring the words into my ear. “You lay me bare, Avalon. No wall I raise stands against you. Were I a city, you would be my conqueror, and I would lay sprawled out for you in surrender before the gates had even fallen.”
He shivered, his hot breath fanning against me as I lay there, unable to move, transfixed by the bliss in his voice. “I lost the war the moment you looked into my eyes, and I would look again, knowing the price,” Ruven murmured, lips brushing my skin. “Kill me or love me, paradise. It doesn’t matter to me. Just don’t ever leave me.”