47. Clash of Stone and Steel #3
His deep chuckle sent shivers over her skin. “I was under the impression you already thought I was impossible to deal with,” he said.
“You are, so imagine how much worse it’ll be if I admit you’re incredible to fuck.”
“Fine. I see your point. I won’t make you admit to my godhood, but I still want some idea how you found my performance.”
“It was adequate,” she said.
“Adequate!” he choked, leaning back.
“I don’t want you resting on your laurels if we do this again,” Talyn said. “You need a goal to work toward.”
“If we do this again?” Samhail said. “The word you’re looking for is when, because I plan to fuck you every morning, mid-day, and night from now on.”
“That’s ambitious of you.”
“Ambitious would be never letting you leave this bed.”
Liquid heat pooled between Talyn’s legs at his words, but she said, “At some point those bodies outside may make staying here unpleasant.”
Samhail’s face went serious, and he sighed. “I supposed we do need to do something about them.”
“Like what?”
Samhail started to withdraw, and Talyn reluctantly loosened her legs so he could pull out. He was no longer hard, but he was still big, and she felt the void inside her as he left her body. He rolled off to sit next to her on the bedroll, and she sat up as well.
“I need to bring Bressen in at this point,” he said. “A regiment of Rown soldiers camped out in Derridan is something he and Aidan should be aware of.”
Talyn’s stomach twisted at the thought of seeing Lord Bressen again, and she felt the phantom pain in her head from when he’d broken into her mind. He’d wanted to kill her, and only Cyra’s mercy had saved her. She wasn’t eager to come face to face with him again.
“You’ll send him a message? Tell him where we are?” she asked.
Samhail nodded. “I have to.”
Talyn looked away, but he gripped her chin and turned her face back.
“He won’t hurt you again,” he said. “I won’t let him.”
“I wish I could say that was comforting,” she said dryly.
“Bressen isn’t a cruel man,” he said, letting go of her chin, “but he’s fiercely protective of Cyra. If we can convince him you’re not a threat to her, you’ll be fine.”
“Do you believe I’m not a threat to her?” she asked.
Samhail regarded her for a few seconds before answering. “If everything you’ve said to me is true, then no, I don’t think you’re a threat to her, but I also don’t have Cyra’s truth seeing abilities. I have to take everything you’ve said on faith.”
“And do you have faith I’m telling the truth?” she pressed.
He didn’t hesitate this time. “Yes.”
She nodded. “For what it’s worth, I have no intention of harming Cyra, or anyone else you care for. I told you I’d help, and I will.”
“Good,” he said, “because I would really like to do this with you again, and that will be very difficult if I have to kill you.”
She quirked a brow at him, but he just smiled and captured her mouth for a lingering kiss before he got to his feet and extended his hands down to her. She took them so he could pull her up, and she practically flew onto her feet at his effortless tug.
“You’re bleeding through the bandages,” he said, frowning down at her stomach.
Talyn looked down to see the bandage Samhail had wrapped around her was already soaked through with blood.
She’d forgotten all about the wound when he’d been inside her.
Her whole torso was also smeared with blood, but that had been transferred from Samhail’s own body.
They’d been too caught up in their arousal to clean themselves first, and she felt a bit queasy now at the feel of the sticky blood drying all over her body.
She glanced back at the bedroll and cringed. The covers were smeared crimson as well, like some kind of macabre painting.
“We need to get rid of those blankets,” she said.
Samhail looked at the bedroll and grimaced before turning toward the table to get more dressings for the wound. He whirled again at Talyn’s cry of alarm.
“What is it?” he asked, scanning the tent for threats.
“Your back!” Talyn gasped. “Gods above, it looks like you’ve been mauled by a wild animal.”
Talyn looked down at her hands. The fingertips of one hand were crusted with dried blood, and she felt his skin under her nails now.
“What did I do to you?” she asked, rushing over to examine him.
Four long, gouging scratches ran down one side of his back, starting at his shoulder and extending more than a foot. The marks were red and angry, and several small trickles of blood meandered down his back.
“I scratched you,” she whispered. “Badly.”
“Believe me, I’m aware,” Samhail said, half turning to grin at her. “I think it’s what sent me over the edge.”
Talyn’s brows shot up. “You enjoyed it?”
He shrugged. “There’s often an overlap between pleasure and pain.”
“There’s something wrong with you,” she said shaking her head. “You should have a healer look at that. I’m not sure how gargoyles heal, but those scratches are deep enough to scar. I assume Cyra can-”
Talyn stopped herself. If Cyra came with Bressen, Samhail would enlist the lady to heal them, but it would be all too obvious how he’d gotten those scratches.
Talyn’s face heated at the look she imagined she might get from the Lord and Lady of Hiraeth if they saw what she’d done.
Aside from her humiliation, it might be harder to convince Bressen she meant them no harm when he saw what she’d done to his friend’s back.
Samhail turned around and took Talyn’s hands in his, examining her fingertips. Finding the offending hand, he brought it to his lips and kissed the pads of her fingers, still crusted with his blood.
“If the marks are deep enough to scar,” he said, “I have every intention of letting them do so.”
Her eyes widened. “Why?”
“I don’t have as many scars as someone else in my line of work might. I welcome a few more. Scars are reminders of the battles we’ve fought, and these will always serve as evidence of my greatest victory.”
He smirked at her, and Talyn’s mouth fell open with an indignant squeak. Samhail pulled her against him and kissed her hard, and any protest she might’ve made died unvoiced.
“You can’t just kiss me every time you want to silence me,” Talyn said when he finally lifted his mouth from hers.
“I can,” he said, kissing her again, “but what I think you meant to say is that I shouldn’t.”
“What I meant to say is you’re an infuriating and frustrating man.”
“You’re not the first to tell me so,” he said, “but scold me later. I need to send a message to Bressen. Stay here while I go get my clothes.”
Talyn nodded and bent to pick up her own clothes as Samhail strode out of the tent.
She found a bucket of water in the corner and washed herself as best she could to get the blood off her body, then she pulled her undergarment and pants on before rewrapping her breasts.
Before putting her shirt back on, she removed the newly blood-soaked bandages from her stomach and pressed fresh cloths onto the wounds before winding more gauze around her to hold them in place.
Only then did she slip her bloody shirt back over her head.
The tent flap opened and Samhail strode back in, fully dressed again.
It looked as though he’d found a way to clean up as well, and he’d also retrieved his two swords.
He went straight to the table again, set the swords down on top of it, and proceeded to write a note on a message leaf.
When he was done, he held the paper up between his middle and forefingers and the note disappeared in a puff of smoke.
Talyn swallowed. Lord Bressen would soon know where they were.
She crouched down and gathered up the papers and maps that Samhail had swept off the table when he laid her there.
“We should take a look at these,” she said. “There might be something that will tell us more about what they’re up to.”
“Agreed,” Samhail said coming over to stand behind her as she dumped the papers back on the table.
Talyn felt him at her back, not touching her, but close enough that the heat from his body warmed her own skin.
A few seconds later, he slid his arm around her and pulled her against him.
She bit her lip as one of his hands clamped onto her hip to hold her in place as he ground his groin into her backside.
“This is not productive,” she said softly.
His hand moved higher so he could run his thumb over her nipple through the wrap, and she sucked in a breath as her head fell back against his chest.
“I disagree,” he said.
Talyn grinned and leaned forward over the table. She arched her back so her ass pressed into Samhail’s groin, then undulated her backside against him. Samhail groaned and gripped her hips with both hands to pull her back so she could feel his new erection pressing into her.
“Gods damn me,” Samhail growled. “I should have fucked you a few more times before I sent that message to Bressen.”
Talyn laughed softly and ground her ass into him harder.
He growled. “Fuck it. I’m sure there’s time for one more.”
Talyn cried out as his fingers looped over the waist of her pants to pull them down, but the blue light of a portal flared next to them, and they jumped apart.
Samhail swore violently under his breath, and Talyn straightened quickly to make sure her pants were back in place.
The portal widened, and through it they saw Cyra standing in Bressen’s study back in Solandis.
Talyn felt a momentary sense of relief at seeing the lady there instead of the lord, but it was short-lived as a dark form moved in front of Cyra.
Then the Lord of Hiraeth stepped through the portal into the tent, and his piercing turquoise eyes went straight to Talyn. The air was suddenly thick with his power, and Talyn had the feeling that everything she’d done up to this point had been a huge mistake.