22
Aspen
Only for me. Those fervent words broke the spell, impaling my gut like a dagger. Innocently spoken, the declaration sliced through the climax in one brutal thrust.
I’d just experienced the longest, most earth-shattering, life-altering orgasm of my life.
The pleasure had knocked the wind out of me, transporting my body to another zenith, launching me into the hemisphere.
Terms I never used like “euphoria” and “rapture” sat on my tongue.
Forget erotic hallucinogenics imported from Spring.
This much ecstasy had the power to erect utopian cities and spawn tropical paradises.
Aire hadn’t been exaggerating when he swore to overthrow every sexual encounter I’d had with other men, in addition to the routine fantasies I used to have about him. While slumped in a heap, with my cunt a drenched mess, nothing compared. No skilled cock ever decimated me the way his fingers had.
Yet this man took intimacy seriously. He didn’t fuck on a casual basis. So despite the aftershocks quavering through my pussy, self-contempt leached the blood from my limbs, his reply jabbing my conscience like the point of a needle.
I refused to let anyone monopolize me sexually. Yet by the same token, I had taken advantage of someone else.
This knight had kept his promise. While all I’d done was lie to him.
The heat in his eyes faded into confusion, then alarm. “What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?”
I whispered around the rock in my throat. “You could never do that.”
“Then what—” But his expression seized in the dark. “You regret this.”
I didn’t. And I did.
Nor was I the only remorseful participant. Aire’s gaze fell, a conflicted noise scratching across his tongue. “Our agreement.”
“There’s that,” I gusted out.
The pact to keep our hands to ourselves. Our deal not to bring complications into this mission.
Among other things. With his hand between my open thighs and his fingers clutched inside me, I hated deceiving this man.
But I also wouldn’t implicate him. Aire was free to despise me all he wanted if I told the truth.
That didn’t scare me. The greater danger still loomed—that he’d become Rhys’s target.
If Summer knew the depth of my feelings, I would condemn Aire.
In this way, he got it wrong. I did fear things. Seeing him hurt, putting him in jeopardy, cutting short his life. That terrified me.
Nonetheless, if I couldn’t tell him one truth, I would share another.
I whispered into the hollow, my breath coasting over his. “You’ve only ever been the kindest, safest man on earth. I wanted your touch. I’ve never come so deeply with anyone.”
“Aspen,” he ground out. “If you wish to dissuade me, you mustn’t say such things.”
I set my fingers against his lips. “I just did.”
Not the whole story, but an honest response. I wouldn’t take it back, even if we couldn’t push things farther.
And for Aire’s part, the premonition still loomed.
Although he knew I could fend for myself, I understood.
This warrior dreaded his involvement, that he might make things worse.
Since it wasn’t in his nature to stand by either, the knight could at least preserve my safety and his fear by keeping a platonic distance.
Logic noted. Rules accepted.
When I voiced this conviction, Aire rested his forehead to mine, and his thumb stroked the wet ridge of my pussy. “I wish I had your fortitude.”
I smiled sadly into his mouth. “You do.”
His touch sent another tremble across my flesh. Gods, he needed to stop talking, uttering things I wanted to hear, and caressing me like a treasure. If he didn’t, I would crumble to pieces.
Holding my gaze in those burning orbs, Aire eased his fingers from my soaked cunt, brushed the swollen pleats once, then lifted those glistening digits to his mouth. The virtuous knight made one final act of defiance, slipping the appendages between his perfect lips and sucking on my cum.
My pulse skipped. Like the kiss, I would never forget this moment.
Groaning, Aire pulled his hand away. “You taste as brazen as you behave.”
“Allies, then,” I panted.
His hand fell. Rearranging my skirt and releasing his grip on me, the knight inclined his head. “Allies.”
Nothing more. We couldn’t have tomorrow. But at least we’d had tonight.
We remained in the same position, with me braced in the valley of his thighs. The horses’ body heat would keep Nicu comfortable. But although the trunk offered insulation, Aire peeled off his coat and draped the fabric over me.
Until dawn, I pretended to sleep. The knight’s chest contracted beneath my spine, his fist gripped one of the broadswords, and he bundled me close to ward off any sign of a chill.
By morning, we squirmed apart. Aire cleared his throat while I smoothed out my cloak. Morning-after awkwardness didn’t compare to the tension pulling between us, thick and bound like a noose.
But with escape taking precedence, this stalemate didn’t last long. I whipped out my axe, preparing to cleave through the roots, when a thought stayed my wrist.
“Flare,” I whispered.
At my epiphany, Aire’s gaze veered to mine. “Knots.”
Yes. The roots tied themselves into knots.
Members of our clan each had their own unmatched skills, which we passed on to one another. As a sand drifter with a lifetime of seafaring to her credit, Flare knew how to work the most complex knots. She’d taught us a few tricks.
I dredged up her instructions and recited, “Don’t start with the ends.”
Aire scooted nearer. “We must find the bight instead.”
The loop. The place where the tension went slack.
And what else?
In unison, Aire and I swung toward a narrow hole in the trunk. “Nicu!”
“That’s me!” he called from his tree.
“Are you all okay?” we called out.
“I’m shining like the sun.”
I chuckled in relief. He’d slept good.
“Flare and her knots,” Aire hollered. “What did she say about—”
“Relieve tension before you pull,” Nicu quoted. “Then loosen the knot. Like a ribbon.”
We got to work. After locating the right spot, Aire leaned one shoulder against the thickest segment. Only then did the thinner roots yield, my fingers easing apart the crossings.
The mesh quivered, the plaits unspooling enough for us to squeeze past the tree’s womb. Working the exterior snare of Nicu’s tree, we freed him and the horses, and I snatched my friend in a suffocating hug.
Over the following days, we rode and camped.
Despite Aire’s unrecognizable garments, taverns or inns were out of the question if we wanted to avoid being noticed.
Nicu’s features alone would garner attention.
To say nothing of Aire’s size, priceless weapons, and exquisite face. Plus, the foliage markings on my skin.
For a while, things progressed as well as could be expected.
At one point, Aire took his turn chopping firewood beside our camp.
Done with my portion, I averted my gaze as he stripped off his shirt.
Sweat laminated the knight’s ridiculous torso.
His pecs and abdomen flexed like stones, and his grunts punctuated every slam of my axe.
Aire had asked my permission before exercising the weapon. That didn’t mean I gave him leave to do the job half-naked.
Mid-swing, he paused. And pivoted toward me.
Our gazes latched, the impact jittering my pulse.
Perspiration darkened the messy tips of his hair, panting exhalations ricocheted across his chest, and the sight of him performing domestic chores set my nether regions aflame.
If I didn’t walk—run—from this scene, my pussy would need a bucket of ice water.
I spun in the opposite direction. Dunking myself in a cold pond failed to release the ache between my thighs, nor did fucking myself beneath the lapping water while I pictured Aire throwing down the axe and heaving me against a tree.
After coming around my fingers, I washed off and sloshed to shore.
While bending to snatch my cloak, footfalls came to a halt. A pile of logs struck the ground and rolled across the underbrush. Whipping upright, I covered my tits with the mantle and froze.
Aire’s thunderstruck gaze pinned me to the spot. His eyes blew wide, black pupils dilating as they plummeted from my gaping features to my dripping body. Wash sluiced down my thighs, my crimped hair poured over one bare shoulder, and fluid licked the edges of my hips.
Although the vestment concealed my pitted nipples and sopping vagina, I went still. He’d already seen everything below the waist, already fucked the deepest and wettest parts with his hands, already made me come from the pit of my throat. Even so, I hadn’t revealed everything.
I opened my mouth to reassure him, make a joke, or bark at the man to turn around. Yet nothing came out.
The First Knight stalled like a trapped elk. His captivated eyes stumbled over my naked skin, then landed on the barest shadow of my pussy.
He veered away, red suffused his cheekbones, and frantic words staggered from his tongue. “My apologies… I was… that is…”
At a loss, the knight whipped around fully. Ignoring the logs he’d dropped, Aire placed his back to me and stood guard while I dressed, the shuffling of my clothes the only audible sound.
During the trip, Nicu slanted his head between us. His eyebrows furrowed in consternation, but he kept his thoughts private. Otherwise, the landscape’s enchantments distracted him, and we fed his curiosity by describing the origins of different habitats.
As his parents had always wanted, Nicu finally got to see the limitless wonders of this kingdom. That alone was worth enduring the rift between me and the knight.
But despite Nicu’s wonderful company, the tension grew. Because mild animosity was easier than unfulfilled desire, Aire and I reverted to bickering. The disputes ranged from the safest terrain, to the most trustworthy edibles, to reliable battle weapons, to the color of the fucking grass.