18. Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Eighteen
B eneath the bright sun, we ride for two more days. Though it’s not uncomfortably hot this time of year in the southern half of the Steel Court, sweat slicks my skin, adding to the dirt and grime already making my leathers stiff.
Gods, I would kill for an opportunity to bathe.
Rustling its mane, our horse whines.
Asheros leans forward. Patting the gentle beast’s neck, he says, “All right, boy. We’ll stop.” Holding up a fist, he turns around to face the others. “Let’s rest. We’ll make camp here.”
“Thank. The. Gods,” Ronan grumbles, sounding nearly as tired as Asheros’s stallion. “My ass is sore from all this riding.”
Gryska slaps her thigh. “That’s what females say after a night with ya.”
Kheldryn bursts out laughing and covers her mouth. Orim’s eyes light up with amusement, and he bites his lip to keep himself from laughing.
Even Savell stifles a chuckle.
Narrowing his eyes, Ronan glowers at all four of them. “Yeah, yeah, very funny.”
Paying them no mind, I slip off my mount, steadying myself when my soles touch the ground. Raising my hands over my head, I stretch my back, hoping to soothe my aching muscles.
Asheros leads the stallion deeper into the forest and secures him to a tree with the other horses. Kheldryn, Gryska, Savell, and Ronan begin to construct our tents, while Orim and Asheros build a fire. Marching decisively toward the center of camp, I take an armful of bedrolls and drop two or three beside each of the tents.
Wind brushes my hair, and with it, a steady rhythm like that of a deep rumble. Angling my head, I brush stray hair behind my ears and strain to listen. For a moment, the sound is buried beneath the chattering of the forest. But then, I hear it.
Running water.
Instinct pulls me toward the sound, my focus solely driven by the need to submerge myself in fresh, clean water. As I stride forward, the rhythm intensifies, a light pounding in my ears. A lush, green hill, rocks, and what appears to be the mouth of a large cave, completely overgrown with vibrant mosses and grass, comes into view.
Relief surges through me. Anticipation tingles along my hot, sweaty skin.
Thank the ever-living gods.
Descending into the cave, the chill of the air inside washes over me. I tilt my head back a little, eyes half-closed while I start to unclasp my fighting leathers. I’m deep into the cave when I tug the leather vest off, followed by the shirt I’ve been wearing underneath.
Gods, it feels so good to be rid of it, even if just for a moment.
“Bladesinger!” Asheros calls after me, words rushed with alarm. “What are you—”
I turn around to look at him, hands hovering by the waistband of my pants. “What does it look like? I’m taking a bath.”
Every last bit of panic drains from his demeanor. He stares at me, brows raised. “A bath?”
“Yes, a bath,” I say, gesturing to myself. “I’m absolutely disgusting.”
“You,” he says slowly, “are never disgusting.”
I snort. “Clearly, you haven’t smelled me.”
He swallows. “I don’ t need to.”
Rolling my eyes, I turn around and step out of my pants. I can feel the heat of Asheros’s gaze lingering on my naked body, but I ignore it and move ahead, dipping my feet into the pool. The water is so clear that, if not for the waterfall, it would look like glass.
The stone at the bottom is smooth, softened by years and years of water gently lapping against the surface. I wade in deeper, moving until I reach the waterfall. Stepping under it, I lean my head back and let the water spray my face and hair. It’s cold, but it feels so good against my skin. And although I don’t have soap, I work my hands into my scalp like I do.
“You’re serious about that bath.” Asheros’s voice echoes off the cave walls. He keeps his tone casual, though I can detect the underlying strain he tries to hide.
Water runs from my shoulders, down my chest. I stop to look at him. “Completely serious.”
His eyes lock with mine. Taking long strides forward, he tugs his shirt off and over his head, heated gaze not once breaking from me.
“Then perhaps I am in need of one, too.”
Asheros advances. The closer he gets to me, the more of him I drink in. His white-blond hair is messy, disheveled from days of traveling. His crystal-blue irises glint in the light, though a dark haze takes hold of them. I feel bare, exposed under the intensity of his stare. If I wasn’t already naked, I would think he was undressing me with his eyes. Looking at me like he wants to devour me .
My nipples harden, trails of cold water running down my body. Despite the cool air in the cave, heat swirls down my arms, my chest, my stomach…
He wades into the pool. As he does, his leather pants darken, the wet material clinging to his muscular frame. My focus drops. My eyes roam down his body—to his defined collarbones, the planes of his bare chest, the hardness I see gathering beneath his soaked pants.
I suck in a breath. My palm meets my chest, fingers stretched up to the base of my neck. Fire burns in my stomach, the molten heat coursing through me, moving lower and lower and lower.
Asheros continues steadily, closing the gap between us with each step.
I’m transfixed by him, frozen in place. All I can do is watch him, water cascading down his face and neck. Watch the muscles in his jaw tick. Watch his forearms flex.
He stops when he reaches me. His eyes fall from mine. I follow his line of sight to my chest, smattered with water droplets. To my hard, hard nipples begging to be touched. I ache for him—ache for his hands to clasp my breasts. For his hips to press against mine. Already, molten heat courses through my lower abdomen despite the chill from the waterfall over us.
My core aches with the need to be filled.
Filled by him.
The silence is heavy between us, the rising tension between our bodies ripe with need and desire. In one motion, he takes my face between both of his hands. His mouth collides with mine. Pressing my palms to his torso, I explore the hard lines of his body, craning my head back to deepen the kiss. His hands move down the length of my body, only stopping to grab my hips.
My hands roam up to his neck, clutching to him as if he’s the very air I breathe. Gods, I drink him in like a female dying of thirst. Our mouths are rough and demanding, our grip on each other iron-tight. It’s as if whatever barrier between us has shattered into a thousand pieces, never to stop us from touching each other like this ever, ever again.
“Fuck, Lymseia,” he groans against my lips. “Let me touch you.”
My core throbs with anticipation. “I’m not stopping you.”
“Good,” he breathes. Shadows bleed from his back. He reaches down to cup my aching sex through the spray, his shadows wrapping behind me like another body holding me in place.
“Relax, Bladesinger,” he purrs, sending intense shivers down my body. “I’ve got you.”
Eyes fluttering, I let myself go. Though I’m still standing, I lean back, letting his shadows cradle my weight.
He drags two fingers between my breasts and down my abdomen. Teasing at my sensitive flesh, he traces the outline of my entrance, setting every fiber of my body aflame .
I pant and lean my head back in pleasure.
Asheros leans forward, his kisses circling my pebbled nipple before he takes it into his mouth. Lightly sucking, he flicks his tongue in back-and-forth motions, lingering when I pant. The heat of his mouth on my body—the pleasure it elicits—quickens my breath.
Touching the pads of his fingers to my throbbing core, he rubs me in small, circular motions.
Scorching pleasure ignites, searing my senses, and I let out a low, guttural moan.
“Yes, Bladesinger,” he coos. “Lose yourself to me.”
He doesn’t stop rubbing me, continuing to play with me at a painstakingly slow pace. While he does, tendrils of his shadows curve around me. They arch down to both of my breasts, their feathery softness applying focused pressure to my already erect nipples.
“Fuck,” I moan. White-hot pleasure fills me, leaving no part of my body unscathed. “Fuuuuckk.”
With his free hand, Asheros grips my chin, forcing me to look at him. The pressure builds between my legs, coiling low in my abdomen. As if sensing my need, his fingers quicken, driving me closer and closer and closer to the edge. Moans tumble from my mouth, one after another. My cries echo off the cave walls, but I don’t care.
And neither does he.
If anything, he seems to revel in the sounds of my ecstasy. His own breathing quickens, the motion of his fingers fervent with need.
Fragmenting, I fall into my climax.
But Asheros doesn’t stop, sending me right into another.
“Gods,” I pant. “I need… I need…”
The words lie at the tip of my tongue, but damn it all, I can’t fucking think.
Asheros’s burning, crystalline irises are all I can look at, even when he slides a finger already slick with my arousal right into me.
My mouth opens at the welcome intrusion, my breath leaving my lungs.
“Mm,” he murmurs, his voice a low rumble. “You need more, don’t you?”
All I can muster is a nod. Still teasing my breasts, his shadows grasp my ass, drawing another moan from somewhere low in my throat.
Taut with restraint, the lines of Asheros’s face harden. I whimper when he withdraws his finger, until he plunges two inside me. Curling his fingers, he pumps them into me, hitting deep inside, hard enough to make me see stars.
“Fuck.” My eyes roll back. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
“Yes, Bladesinger,” he murmurs. He sounds fucking delicious. “You’re going to give me one more.” He lowers his mouth to my neck, breath hot against my ear. “Come on my fingers like the goddess you are.”
His words give me the last push I needed. Unadulterated rapture washes over me in waves, Asheros’s fingers slowing as I climax. I sag against his shadows, needing their support now more than ever.
Shadows receding, Asheros touches his forehead to mine, and brushes my wet hair from my face. Jaw tight, he swallows, throat bobbing.
“What is it?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
“I want more of you,” he murmurs, a growl in the back of his throat. “So badly.”
“Then have me.” The words leave my lips before I even realize what I’m saying. But I don’t regret them.
“You know it’s not that simple, Bladesinger.” His voice is a gravelly, rough breath.
“Why not,” I huff, my breath heated by desire and frustration.
He lets out an agonized whine.
It shouldn’t be, but that sound is music to my depraved ears, because I know how much he wants me. How not having me leaves him starved.
“You know gods-damn well why.”
“Oh, do I?” I tease.
“Yes,” he growls. “You do.”
Theelia’s blessing.
He’s insinuating we’re not destined to kill each other. That, instead, we’re…
Mates.
I swallow. The thought has electricity brimming on my skin, the thrill of what could be lingering on my body.
Confidence surges through me, lifting the corners of my mouth with something akin to defiance. “But what if I need reminding?”
Asheros parts his lips, a blue fire burning in his gaze. “You live to torture me, don’t you, Bladesinger?”
Eager to see how far I can go with this, I tilt my head up to his. “Perhaps.”
His breath catches, and then his grip on me tightens. “Then I’ll remind you that once I have you, and I mean truly have you, you are mine .”
“Fuck,” I breathe.
His.
“All. Mine.” His voice is low and primal, staking its claim over me. He leans his head back, eyes roaming my body. “Besides, it would be a shame to destroy your pretty little pussy where no one can hear you scream in pleasure.”
“I’m sure it would survive,” I quip, challenging him with my gaze. Daring him to try and see what happens. Perhaps I’m too sexually frustrated for my own good, but gods above, I couldn’t care less.
Asheros’s crystalline eyes flare, and he brings his face down to mine, so close our noses nearly touch. “There is nothing that will survive what I’m going to do to you.”
“Oh, fuck me,” I grind out. Heat flushes my senses, and I feel as though the desire thrumming through me will burst. How can this male rile me up this way with only his words?
“Mm-hmm, in time, Bladesinger.” Stepping out of the waterfall, he winks, backing away from me. “I’ll fuck you so thoroughly you won’t be able to walk straight.”
Gods-damn me.
This male has me wrapped around his finger. And what’s even worse is, I like it. More than anything, I want to be his.
“I’ll leave you to your bath,” Asheros says, though the look in his eyes tells me he wants nothing more than to pin me to the wall and have his way with me. “Wouldn’t want to get you distracted, now, would we?”
“Tease,” I say, trying to catch my breath.
My reply brings a smirk to his mouth. “You’ll make me pay for it later.”
I meet his stare. “Damn right, I will.”
Dragging a hand across his mouth, Asheros wades out of the pool and bends down to pick up his shirt. He tugs the garment over his head, then disappears through the mouth of the cave.
Closing my eyes, I force my breathing to slow. My heartbeat calms, but I can’t banish the feeling of Asheros’s touch from my skin.
Nor do I want to.
I lean back into the waterfall and soak my hair again. The cold water runs over my skin, and I work through what little remains of the dirt and sweat. When I’m finished washing myself, I wade to the edge of the pool. After drying off the best I can, I slip back into my clothes, wring my hair, and emerge from the cave to rejoin the others .
My steps slow as I approach camp. I let my gaze wander to Asheros. His silky hair is still slicked to his skin, those diamond-like eyes alight with familiarity. Catching my eye, he flashes me a rich smile that nearly takes the air from my lungs. He’s so gods-damned beautiful.
The feel of his hands on me, of the way he touched me moments before, lingers on my skin, and with it, something else.
Something more.
I can’t seem to rid myself of his effect on me. My body craves more of him.
But beyond that…
My soul does, too.
Something’s shifted between us. That much is undeniable. And damn it all, but Kheldryn’s words swirl in my mind again, striking true within me.
“Have you ever wondered that, maybe in marking you two as fated, the gods weren’t telling you that he’s your enemy, but rather, that you and he would become something so much more?”
Maybe she’s right. Maybe we could be so much more than enemies.
My throat works a swallow.
Once, I thought I could kill Asheros Larmanne if I needed to.
Now, I know that’s not true.
The truth is…
I’d raise a blade to my own heart before I could even consider piercing his.