Chapter Ten
WILDER
W ilder would never forget the taste of her. He’d never forget the sight of her, head tipped back in ecstasy, utterly bare and exposed before him, her skin flushed and damp. It was everything he’d hoped it would be and more.
If he’d done his job right, she’d never forget it either.
Gods, she had no idea how perfect she was. He’d spoken the words, but they did little justice to what he saw, what he felt.
His heart racing, Wilder dropped a light kiss on each of her knees, still drinking in the sight of her limp and sated.
Then, Thea reached for him, his desire clearly tented at the front of his pants, her gaze lustful.
He caught her hands. ‘You don’t have to —’
She stood, twisting her hands from his grip, pulling him up with her to find the buckle of his belt. ‘I want to. You have no idea how much I want to,’ she murmured, her eyes falling to where the buttons of his pants popped open beneath her fingers.
He was rock hard, his breathing shallow. How many times had he found his release imagining a moment like this? Imagining the feel of her —
Intense pleasure unfurled as she freed his cock, her warm hand wrapping around him, leisurely stroking him up and down. He moaned, loudly. Furies save him, her touch set him alight, and he’d never stop burning for her.
Thea licked her lips as she looked upon the size of him in her hand, her breasts rising and falling with each breath, her nipples hard and tempting.
The sight of her watching him sent a fierce craving through Wilder and he leant in to take one of her nipples in his mouth, but Thea’s other hand pushed him back as she increased the pressure on his cock.
A low rumble of need escaped Wilder as she worked him. Gods, she had no idea the willpower it required not to scoop her up and take her against the wall.
‘Thea…’ he said, half plea, half warning, his whole body tense with anticipation.
But she didn’t stop, not that he wanted her to.
She kissed him, rough and hard, and dragged his pants down over his hips, leaving them bunched around his knees.
Her silken strokes down his cock were intoxicating, awakening the beast within, coaxing all his desire to the surface.
The ache, the need for her roared through him and he kissed her back savagely, his tongue exploring her mouth, brushing against hers, his hands tangling in her hair, heat surging beneath his skin.
Thea broke away too soon.
‘I want to taste you,’ she told him, her gaze dipping low between them, surveying his arousal.
Wilder’s head tipped back and he raked a hand through his hair, nearly coming on the spot at those words leaving that wicked mouth. He knew he should object; he knew that this would muddy the waters between them even more. His guilt and sense of duty warred with this desire, making him falter.
I shouldn’t…
He took a step back, needing to hold on to something, needing to anchor himself somehow. His grip found the mantel of the fireplace, his fingers digging into the stone there.
Then Thea got on her knees.
His mouth went dry at the sight of her, naked and waiting for him.
This was happening. She was going to suck his cock, and the thought alone fuelled the most primal instinct within.
Every inch of him was ablaze, crying out for her touch, but he remembered himself for a moment.
If they were going to do this… They were going to do it right.
Reaching for the basket by the fire, he grabbed a spare blanket and dropped it to the floor in front of her.
His own cheeks heated as a shy smile tugged at the corner of Thea’s mouth and she settled her knees on the soft fabric.
Her gaze didn’t leave his as she adjusted her grip on his cock and traced the length of his shaft with the tip of her tongue.
‘Fuck…’ He groaned at the light, teasing sensation, a sultry promise of what was to come.
Thea’s tongue swirled across the broad tip of him and his head fell back once more, her name on his lips, his fingers digging into the mantel, crumbling the stone.
She teased and taunted the crown of his cock until his knees were weak, until he was arching his hips towards her.
Her nails raked down his thighs in silent demand and he looked down, her eyes meeting his as her lips closed over his throbbing tip. Then she took him deep, deep into her mouth, enough for him to brush the back of her throat.
‘Fuck, Thea,’ he barked through the lust-filled haze.
Her other hand swept across his balls and his whole body jerked with the force of the added sensation.
Unable to bite back the sounds any longer, his moans filled the cabin as he gripped her hair at the roots with one hand, guiding her up and down his shaft, losing himself to the first ripples of a building climax.
Together, they found their rhythm, one that had Wilder rocking on his heels to meet every slide of her mouth. Everything faded away but her and the wet warmth of her lips, the caress of her tongue, building and building that heat inside him.
Thea moaned around his cock, the vibration sending a jolt of pure pleasure straight to his balls.
He felt them tighten, begging to empty into her.
She took him deeper still.
Wilder’s vision spotted and the stone where he gripped the mantel came away in pieces as he warred with his last thread of control. But the hot, tight glide into Thea’s throat was like nothing he’d ever experienced. His body answered to her every command, white-hot need coursing through him.
Then, she curled her tongue around him, hitting the sensitive underside of the crown of his cock, tipping him over the point of no return.
‘Thea —’ was all the warning he gave her, before release surged through his entire body. His climax hit him like an avalanche, barrelling into him and leaving him breathless. Completely uninhibited, he shuddered as he spilt himself into her mouth with a deep, carnal moan.
Thea lapped at him, taking everything he gave, swallowing him down.
A bead of sweat trickled down Wilder’s chest as he panted, unsure how he was still upright. As the world slowly came back to him, he realised he was clutching a handful of broken stone from the fireplace.
‘That was…’ But Wilder didn’t have the words for what it was. He didn’t have a single sensible thought in his head, other than that he needed to bury his cock inside Thea. He needed more of her.
Thea slid her mouth off him and kissed the sensitive skin below his hip, smiling softly, before pulling him down to the blanket on the floor.
She was still naked, her body damp with sweat and arousal.
He reached for the cushions and a throw on his armchair, making things more comfortable.
Then he kicked off his pants and joined her, his heart swelling at the quiet intimacy between them.
In front of them, the fire crackled quietly, and Wilder didn’t hesitate to draw Thea into his arms and kiss her soundly, not caring that she tasted of him, relishing the feel of her bare skin against his.
He traced the lines of her curves, memorising the feel of her, his cock already hardening for her again. ‘You…’ Emotion cracked his voice and he found that he still couldn’t form the words.
Thea simply nestled closer, her lips finding his.
Gods, he could stay like this forever.
They kissed as though they had all the time in the world, a slow, unhurried exploration of one another, their hands drifting across each other’s bodies, learning every dip and hollow.
Wilder didn’t know how long they stayed like that, but the fire burned low, and when it was no more than glowing orange embers, the room grew cold.
‘Shall we go to bed?’ Thea murmured against his chest, tracing his nipple.
Bed … The two of them together, sharing his bed.
An act so normal, yet so intimate.
An intimacy they couldn’t come back from.
Thea laced her fingers through his and made to get up, goosebumps breaking out across her arms.
But Wilder hesitated.
Hurt flashed across Thea’s face before she masked it, pulling the blanket over herself.
Chest suddenly tight, Wilder got to his feet, needing to look anywhere but her, shoving his legs through his pants and tucking his still-hard cock away. The hurt she felt in this moment was nothing. He knew that from experience. People had been truly hurt on his watch.
To share a bed with him… To be his in that permanent way… It would only lead to more pain for her.
He was already keeping secrets from her, to keep her safe. To protect her. And he would do so at all costs. It was his duty.
He knew he was doing a piss-poor job of it. He couldn’t tame his desire, his rage, his anything when it came to her.
That had to stop. Now.
He had vowed to make a Warsword of her, and pleasuring each other in front of the fire wasn’t a part of that.
All those weeks ago, that reaper had found her alone, her power raw and untrained, a beacon to those lurking in the shadows who sought such things.
And it had nearly taken her. It had nearly clamped its talons around her heart.
Now, there was a daughter of darkness seeking lost heirs. Now, there was a hunt for her.
Thea was watching him, her expression a mask of indifference. ‘So this changed nothing? It remains as it was between us?’ she asked, all emotion stripped from her tone, the blanket held tightly around her naked body.
Wilder allowed a beat of silence to follow. ‘You still want to be a Warsword?’
That unbroken tempest in her eyes was back. ‘Yes.’
‘Then it remains as it was.’
* * *
Try as he might, Wilder couldn’t sleep, not with her so close, not with the intoxicating scent of her lingering on his skin.
It was all he could do not to take her in his arms and carry her to his bed.
She’d accepted his choice, if one could call it that.
A wise decision. For they couldn’t go down that road, the one of midnight embraces and slow, tender fucking until the early hours of the morning.
Not if she was to pass the Great Rite. One of them had to see sense, and this time, it was him.
From where he lay as still as death in his bed, he could hear her murmuring in her sleep.
Quiet pleas at first, then terrified whimpering and loud cries.
His throat constricted as he heard her thrashing around in the blankets of her cot, and saw the outline of her limbs flailing against an enemy he couldn’t see.
It killed him. Every word of anguish from her lips had him rigid, guilt-ridden and desperate to help her.
Yet he did nothing. He had to leave her to face her demons alone. For that was exactly what the Great Rite would demand of her.
And he was determined to prepare her for that, no matter how brutally it tore his heart apart.
So Wilder settled in for a sleepless night, watching over her as she stood against the terrors of her own mind, her own memory.
* * *
When he woke, Thea was gone again. He didn’t like the fact that, once again, he hadn’t stirred as she’d readied herself for the day, hadn’t heard the water splashing in the bathing room or the door clicking shut behind her.
She was getting too stealthy for her own good.
He hauled himself out of bed and pulled on a pair of loose-fitting pants. In the living room, there was no note waiting for him. The silence was deafening. What had he expected? He’d gotten her naked and vulnerable, only to turn her away.
Raking a hand through his hair, he looked around his cabin.
There was no sign that Thea had eaten or drunk anything before heading out; no mug on the side table, no plate or bowl.
He knew well enough that she wouldn’t waste valuable training hours running back to the fortress to bother the cook before dawn.
Thea still wasn’t taking care of herself.
Not enough food or water, not enough sleep.
He’d have to change that. Sighing heavily, he opened his cupboards, searching through the various tins he’d collected over the years until he spotted the one he was looking for.
Removing the lid, he sniffed its contents.
Peppermint tea; Thea’s favourite. He’d known it was in there somewhere. He set it down on the side table and found an overly large mug in his mismatched collection, setting that down too.
He couldn’t coddle her, couldn’t hold her hand through what it meant to become a Warsword. But this… this was something small. This he could do.
Wilder took the note she’d left him the previous day and turned it over. There, he inked a jagged lightning bolt of his own and propped the note against the tin. Hopefully she’d see it when she got back.
He’d have to work on the bigger picture more gradually, honing her discipline for not only working hard, but knowing when to stop, when to rest. That was just as hard as the drills and something she was clearly struggling with.
He ran through a list of things he still had to teach her in his mind. Then there were the actual things she needed – armour; new boots, most likely; decent tack for her horse…
Heaving another sigh, Wilder went to get dressed, but stopped short upon entering the bedroom again.
Her corner of the room was neat but for the clothes he’d torn last night.
A pang of guilt hit him low in the gut and he didn’t hesitate to scoop them up.
It was still dark outside, and so for the next hour, he sat by the fire, mending her shirt and pants with a needle and thread.
As he sewed, he tried to keep the memories of her at bay.
He failed miserably.