48. Clash of Stone and Steel #2
It was why he’d been hesitant to shift this time, why he’d considered the consequences of doing so for far longer than he might normally have considered them.
Talyn was with him, and he’d been afraid of what he might do to her when he shifted back.
He’d been having enough trouble controlling himself around her as it was, and he’d been genuinely afraid his battle lust might make him try to take Talyn against her will, or that it might at least make him push her into doing something she wasn’t yet ready to do.
He’d eventually reasoned that because there were relatively few soldiers to take care of this time – nowhere near the hundreds or thousands he might kill in a major battle during wartime – he’d be able to control the lust.
He’d only just barely been right.
Samhail had been both terrified and enraged when he’d turned to find Talyn standing in the camp watching him tear men apart.
For one, he hadn’t wanted her to see him that way, grotesque in his gargoyle form and half-crazed with battle fury.
For another, her presence had instantly stirred his carnal lust so that it mingled dangerously with the bloodlust raging through his system, so he wasn’t sure where one ended and the other began.
Thankfully, his gargoyle form prevented him from acting on his lust since his cock was drawn back against his body, protected by what amounted to a stone codpiece.
That hadn’t stopped him from wanting Talyn when he saw her, but it had at least allowed him to refocus when he’d seen the creature running to attack her.
She’d had her back turned and was oblivious to the assault, so he could only roar a warning.
Luckily Talyn had moved just in time, and the precious few seconds had allowed him to get there and tear the thing’s head off before it could attack again.
She’d been injured, and his only thought had been to kill the symbiont before it could seep inside the wound and turn her.
He’d been afraid to look at her face to learn what she thought of his brutality, but seeing a moment ago just how many men she’d cut down herself made him realize she was used to such carnage.
Talyn’s wound had been a strange kind of blessing.
Taking care of her injury had distracted Samhail from wanting her, although the need had still been pumping there below the surface.
It had taken a monumental effort to focus on Talyn’s wound as he knelt over her on the ground, but it had taken his mind off sex for at least a little while.
Then he’d taken her into the tent, and she’d touched him.
She’d put her hand on his chest, and the beast had roared somewhere deep inside him.
The need to push her back onto the table and bury his cock deep inside her had been so strong he’d almost blacked out, but he’d used every remaining ounce of his willpower to keep himself in check.
He’d never hurt a woman before, never forced himself on anyone, and the Nemesis would take him before he’d do it now.
How he’d managed to stay still when she’d trailed her hand down his stomach and then lower, he had no idea.
He was sure the bottom of the table bore the marks of where he dug his fingernails into the wood when she’d wrapped her hand around his cock.
Still he’d managed not to move, even with his blood pumping through his veins like molten steel and the beast roaring in his head to take her, fuck her, claim her.
Then she’d said those four words that had been his salvation. I want you, Samhail.
He’d almost sagged to his knees in relief.
He’d even tried to get down at one point, intent on making what he was about to do as good for her as possible, but she’d stopped him, and here again his relief had been overwhelming.
He still wanted to taste her, still owed her that, but he’d been more than happy to defer it to a later time.
He’d made himself ask her one more time if she was sure it was what she wanted. If she’d said no at that point, his heart would’ve stopped beating. She’d said yes, though, and finally pushing inside her had been the single most intense feeling of his life.
He’d forced himself to go slow so he didn’t hurt her. He was a large man in general, and he had a cock to match, so he’d eased inside her rather than plunging in as his body wanted to do.
He barely remembered the rest. They’d moved to the bedroll off to the side of the tent at some point, but his mind had been such a haze of rapture and need that he’d been unaware of anything but the feel of being inside her, of how fucking amazing she’d felt writhing beneath him with her body closed tightly around him.
That he’d been able to hold out long enough for her to take her own pleasure was nothing short of a miracle.
He’d felt the sting of her fingernails rake down his shoulder when she’d climaxed, but it had only made him come harder.
Bressen’s voice jolted Samhail back from his musings.
“I see that blue substance,” Bressen said. “Were they symbionts?”
“Some of them were,” Samhail answered. “Not all. They turned some of the people while they were still at the village, then they brought a few wagons of people with them here. I assume they were planning to turn them eventually. Talyn freed the prisoners.”
His eyes met Bressen’s, and they seemed to have a momentary standoff about how genuine Talyn’s help was.
“Still think Derridan can stay out of this war?” Bressen asked Aidan.
Samhail could see the fury in Aidan’s face as he clenched his jaw, and Samhail blinked in surprise. Aidan wanted to stay out of the war? Clearly he’d missed a few things while he was away.
“I suppose not,” Aidan finally said through gritted teeth.
“I’ve seen enough,” Bressen said. “Let’s get back to the tent.”
Samhail was just as eager to get back, so he turned to follow the two lords.
Women talked to each other when given enough time, often about things they had no business talking to each other about, and it was that, more than anything, that quickened his steps as they headed back toward the center of camp.
“Was she worth it?”
Samhail’s mind snapped back from imagining the highly damning conversation he was sure Talyn and Cyra were having, and he looked down at the tiny woman walking beside him as they followed the lords.
Maziren had spoken just loud enough for him to hear, and she had the hint of a knowing grin on her face.
“Was who worth what?” he asked in a low voice, playing dumb.
She shot him a look that said he knew exactly what she was talking about, but she spelled it out anyway. “Was fucking the assassin worth pissing off Lord Bressen?”
He opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off.
“And don’t deny you fucked her. I saw the blankets on the side.”
Samhail felt his face drain of color. Fuck. They’d forgotten to get rid of the bloody blankets.
“How was she?” Maziren asked as she gave him a side-eyed smile. “She has incredible legs, and you know I like the tall ones.”
Samhail clenched his teeth. Yes, Maziren did seem to like her bedmates tall. Including him.