Chapter 49
HONOR
Relief curled in my belly, making room for itself amongst the diminishing shame and growing nervousness. Resolve had ripped up my throat, pulling my desires out of my mouth and into the air. Guilt had been a companion to nearly every thought I’d ever had of Dewalt. But, even so, I’d fought the idea that wanting him could ever be bad.
For weeks, I’d wept over what happened the day he was stabbed, blaming myself for not paying proper attention and letting that shifter hurt him. I’d let the feeling take over, supplanting any regret I might have felt over letting him touch me in the palace. It had been easier than it should have been—to dismiss guilt over that moment. I’d allowed it to stay mine, refusing to allow my mother or the Myriad to sully it. In truth, I’d thought of his hand slipping beneath my clothing, sliding between fabric and flesh, more than I’d considered prayer in recent weeks.
Entertaining thoughts of Dewalt had been its own type of prayer. His courage, his honesty, his enduring spirit? Despite the gods having taken someone he loved, he still doled out unending loyalty to those he cared about. I refused to believe, especially now, that the gods could look upon him and wonder why I felt the way I did. When his thumb brushed over the apple of my cheek, I allowed instinct to take over. Carefully swiping my lips against the side of his hand, a small kiss, I closed my eyes. Was there anything I’d ever wanted more?
It had never been untethered lust, but something richer. It was lavish, soft on my tongue, as he pressed his lips to mine. If our last kiss had been easy, this one was certain. Dewalt’s fingertips played against my nape as he held me, gently tugging at the roots of my hair. I nearly moaned when his tongue pressed against the seam of my lips. He’d held back the night before, and I had wondered if it was because of my inexperience. But if it was, he no longer cared. Opening for him, I panted as his tongue swiped into my mouth, tentative. Gently, he caressed my tongue with his, and the sensation drove me wild. I adjusted, turning and trying to lift a leg over him, but he stopped me. Hand on my hip, a gentle squeeze accompanied his groan as he pulled away.
“You’re sure you want this?” he asked.
Nodding, I squared my jaw. “I think I should know, don’t you?”
He made a sound low in his throat before claiming my mouth once more, dragging his teeth over my lower lip. “Should know what, Nor?”
“You know what.”
“I do. Part of this is talking about it. What do you want me to teach you?” he asked, voice a deep rumble which picked apart the knots in my stomach.
“How to—I want to know how to pleasure myself.” His fingertip traced up my hip, and I realized with a start that I was no longer cold. Everything was warm, and each touch licked over me like the dry heat of a fire.
“You want to learn how to come, songbird?”
“Need to,” I gasped. It didn’t matter that I wasn’t exactly sure what that meant.
“ Fuck ,” he swore, reaching for my hand, threading his fingers through mine. “Doesn’t feel right, touching you before you know what you like,” he gritted out. “You have to learn so you can tell me—” He cleared his throat. “So you can tell whoever you’re with.”
I frowned, but he rolled me onto my back and kissed me with fervor before I could make him clarify. Words left me when he dragged my hand beneath the fur, making me cup my breast. He swallowed my gasp and smiled against my lips. I could pinpoint exactly where his thumb brushed over the sensitive skin on the underside of my breast, and it wasn’t enough. I wished he would touch me himself. There were many things I wished for with him, and most of them revolved around the word more .
“I’m going to slip us into a vision,” he said, pulling back and kissing my temple. Within a moment, a soft glow of sunlight appeared through an open window. I still felt his hand over mine, warm, but I couldn’t see it. I was laying in a simple bed, the blanket beneath me just a bit fuzzier than it ought to have been, the coarse fur of the buffalo hide peeking through his divinity. I huffed a laugh as I peered down my body—fully clothed in my nightgown from the night before. Turning my head, I frowned when I realized I was by myself in the vision.
“I thought you were going to show me,” I whined.
“Patience, pigeon,” he whispered, and I felt his breath on my ear. The sensation was both titillating and disorienting. “You need to explore first.”
“I could have done that without the vision,” I argued.
“Would you prefer the cold, damp furs? I’m trying to make this nicer for you.”
I laughed, rubbing my pinky over the side of his hand. It felt strange when the incorporeal version of my body responded too. “Fine. Now what?”
“So demanding.” Another kiss against my temple, and I wondered if it was too much—too sweet, too satisfying. Could I die from his touch? “Think about what parts of your body feel good when you touch them. When you wash your body or…explore it.”
“Uh, I—” I searched for my resolve, only taking a moment to remind myself how desperately I needed this. “All right. My breasts and…and between my legs.”
“Those are the obvious ones, Nor. Anywhere else?”
“I suppose, ah, my neck.”
His nose nuzzled against the part in question, right beneath my ear, and it took everything in me not to reach for him.
“Fuck, I need to stop touching you.” He pulled his hand from mine, but I didn’t have time to pout about it. “I want you to touch the places I tell you, taking your time if it feels good.” My stomach tightened in anticipation as he adjusted beside me. “Ear,” he started, and I obeyed, listening as he told me to trace the shell of it with my fingertip. When I shook my head, he didn’t question it, merely telling me to move on to my neck. I didn’t have to explain that, because of what happened to my ears, I didn’t want to touch them. “Gently press at your nape and massage.”
“Feels nice,” I said, keeping my eyes closed. “Not…not in that way, though.”
“Collarbone.” Tracing my fingertips over that divot, I sighed, imagining Dewalt touching me there.
“That’s…very nice,” I breathed. When I sensed a shadow pass in front of me, I opened my eyes. Dewalt sat on the side of the bed, clothed, with dry hair and hunger in his gaze. I’d seen that look a few times before, and it made my mouth go dry. The heat of his body still radiated beside me, so I knew it wasn’t real, but I pretended it was. His throat bobbed, and the vision of him leaned forward, dragging his fingertips over my collarbone. There was a ghost of a touch, and I was shocked I could somehow feel him in the vision. My senses reacted, skin tightening and breath drawing short. My chest flushed, and my mouth dropped open.
“Ribs,” he said before bending down, moving his lips over my collarbone. I wanted to grip the back of his neck, hold him close to me, but I thought my hand might go right through him. Pushing my head back, I closed my eyes, focusing on the feather-soft touch of his lips on my chest, willing it to be the real thing.
“Ribs,” he repeated, and I whined as he pulled away.
I dragged my fingernails over my rib cage, looking down and huffing a laugh as I did it. “It feels a little silly to be touching skin while I appear clothed.”
Dewalt cleared his throat and disappeared from the vision. Sheepish, he said, “I didn’t want to assume what you looked like. My imaginings probably wouldn’t do you justice.”
My face heated, and I took a few deep breaths before I spoke. “Would you like to see me now?”
“I’ve kept you respectably covered for a reason,” he said through a heavy sigh. “Despite myself,” he added, sullen, and I laughed.
“Be less respectable,” I whispered, and then echoed his own words back to him. “Look your fill.” A moment passed, his breathing growing labored as I waited. And right when I was about to give up, the fur slid down my body. Tortuously, he dragged it down, moving achingly slow as he bared me to him. As he pulled the fur from my body, I felt his fingertips graze over my thighs, and I wanted him everywhere.
“If they didn’t want you to learn how to pleasure this body, they wouldn’t have spent so much gods damn time perfecting it,” he murmured, and I began to ache. My heart, my tense muscles, that spot between my legs which grew hotter with each passing second. “I’m serious, Honor. You walk around with your hair up in that tight bun and everything about you is so fucking composed. But beneath it all you have—gods—you have these perfect, little tits, and—” He let out a harsh sound, a curse and a grunt in one. “You have no idea how badly I want to die between these thighs.”
“Stop,” I breathed. “That’s…mad.”
“Those tight little buds on your perfect tits—rub your fingertips there,” he ordered, and I swallowed. “Start gently.”
Closing my eyes, I slid my hands up over my body, cupping my breasts. Barely a handful, I’d worried if they’d be considered desirable. Many of the other novices who had bigger chests had worn binding garments—so as not to be seen as enticing. I’d never been forced to wear one, and a small part of me had wondered if it was because no one would ever possibly see me in that way. It was a welcome surprise that Dewalt seemed to like them.
“Go on, Nor,” he said, his voice pitched lower and more gentle. When my eyes fluttered open, he was back in the vision—shirtless—and his gaze seared over my naked body. As I circled my nipples with my fingertips, I watched him. His lips rolled tightly between his teeth, and his arm flexed as he clenched his hand. His eyes grew heavy-lidded, and I licked my lips.
“How much I want you, Nor…It isn’t madness,” he said, and he repositioned, leaning over me. “It’s an inevitability.” And then his head dipped. When his mouth closed over my peaked nipple, I inhaled a shuddering breath. There was no moist heat, but I could still feel him—however faint. “Now, tug,” he said before the vision of him went to work, nibbling on my flesh. A high-pitched noise escaped me as I tugged on them, pretending it was the nip of his teeth causing the slight pain. My thighs were slick, rubbing against each other with ease as I writhed.
I closed my eyes, pressing my head back into the furs beneath me. His directions were torment and rapture, and I wondered how long this could go on. It felt like I was climbing an endless staircase of pleasure, and I didn’t know how much longer I could take it.
“Open your eyes,” he said, and my jaw dropped. No longer laying down, I was sitting in a bath. Steam wafted in front of me, and I realized where we were.
“The Cascade?”
“Yes,” he said, arms spread out behind him. Halfway across the bath, I determined there was too much space between us. He nodded toward a corner of the room. “You need to see.”
Blinking, I stared at the back of the woman’s head, watching as her arm lifted out of the bath and she ran a washcloth over her skin. She had long, dark hair, and when I stopped to listen, it was my voice echoing through the room.
The vision was me .
That bath had been the best of my life; I didn’t think I would ever find myself so desperate for one again. My eyes widened as she finished her song and stood. My lean frame was in silhouette against the light trickling in from the high windows. My torso tucked in at the waist, delicately, before flaring out a small amount for my hips. Each time I’d examined myself in the mirror, I’d always felt like a boy without any shape before dismissing it as a vain worry each time. But seeing myself through Dewalt’s eyes allowed me to see the things I overlooked. I had a softness I’d never noticed. Water rolled down the divot of my back, and I pulled my hair over my shoulder. The slight curve of my bottom was on display, and I flushed crimson when the vision of me bent over, revealing that secret part of me.
“Skies, you saw everything?”
“I believe my memories might have taken some liberties.”
The vision wrapped the towel around herself and every muscle in her body tensed before she—I, I supposed—turned on a heel and marched toward Dewalt. Even with a frown on my face, he had managed to suss out that same softness within me, and I couldn’t believe it when the shadow of a smile played on my lips. I’d always thought my nose was too long, but from his eyes, it balanced perfectly with my plump lips, thick brows, and wide eyes. My skin glowed, and I held myself with such confidence it surprised me.
“I really look like that?” I breathed.
“Better,” he hummed. He stopped the memory just as I lifted my arm to throw my apple at him, and the frustrated version of me slipped away, fading out of view. “You don’t want to know how many regrets I have over this moment.”
“Oh, I certainly do want to know.”
He huffed a laugh, turning to face me. Elbow positioned on the outside of the pool, he rested his chin on his closed fist. His face was damp from the steam, a few strands of hair sticking to his forehead. The detail was astonishing, and I was stunned by his divinity. Mine felt useless in comparison. How he made everything seem so real and vivid was impressive.
“If I could go back in time, I’d sit you on the edge of this pool and lick every drop of water from your body.”
I scoffed, smiling and shaking my head. “If I could go back in time, I’d let you,” I said, feeling reckless. There was a certain rush which came with speaking my desires into truth. My pulse raced, and the air in my lungs felt too hot.
Taught to suppress the desires of my body, my ribs had been a cage. Now, though, the lock of the Myriad had fallen away, and my tender heart took flight.
“Show me,” I breathed. “Show me what else you would have done.”
His jaw flexed, eyes darkening, and then he moved. Pulling his tall frame through the water to where I sat, water dripped down every swell of lean muscle, and I suddenly understood why one might want to lick every drop. He tugged his hands through his shoulder-length hair, fingertips moving with ease through the silky strands, and I was grateful he’d created this version of him in the vision. The one I’d altered. Tracing my eyes down his form, I saw an errant drop roll downward, following the furrow of muscle on his hip, and I was transfixed. The water of the bath lapped at his skin, and I found myself wishing it wasn’t quite so deep.
“Do you need me to tell you what I’m doing?” he asked, each word clipped as if he were struggling to speak.
“I trust you,” I said, and I barely saw his nod before he surged forward. He gripped me around the waist, placing me on the edge of the bath. This time, I felt every touch, even while my true body stayed still. “How are you doing that? How can I feel you?”
“I’m using more of my divinity. I probably won’t be able to do it for long, but I can’t resist.”
He crowded me, placing his hands on my thighs and spreading my legs wide as he stepped between them. My hands flew to his biceps, and I marveled over just how hard they felt. When he put his hands on my hips and pulled me closer, I gasped. I was uncomfortably aware of my nudity, but all thoughts left me as he dipped his head and kissed me. Both hands on either side of my jaw, he bent me to his will. Consuming and constant, Dewalt’s kiss was overpowering. His tongue swept inside my mouth, and I moaned. His touch was gentle but firm, and I lamented all the time we wasted when we could have been doing this all along. As he pulled away, I panted, looking up at him with hazy eyes.
“First, I would’ve kissed you silent, you fiery little thing,” he said, dragging his lips down to my neck. “I would have kissed that righteous indignation right out of you.”
“And then what?”
“I would’ve made sure you were desperate before I touched you anywhere else. But I think I’ve already done that,” he said, and I squeezed my legs around him in confirmation. He took a step back and bent, cupping my breast in one hand as he tugged the tight peak into his mouth. I tilted my head back, planting my hands on the ground on either side of me. I bit my lip, trying not to cry out.
“This might feel funny,” he said, peppering kisses on my breast, and then the true Dewalt grabbed my hand where it had been resting on my stomach. He was right; the sensation felt overwhelming. My body and mind were split in two, and having control of both was difficult to understand. “Let me see your technique,” he said, placing my hand on my hot center. “Touch yourself for me, songbird.”
The vision of him continued to press his mouth to my body. My breasts, my chest, my collarbone—part of me refused to move, relishing in the feeling, but the other part of me needed more. I was so warm between my legs, and as I traced my fingertips over the soft skin there, I could hear my wetness. “That’s…loud,” I said, suddenly embarrassed.
“That only means we’ve done it right, Nor. You’re supposed to be this wet.”
“Oh,” I whispered, but the heat didn’t leave my cheeks. “Right.”
“Every body is different, but nothing about how they respond is wrong. There’s no reason to be ashamed of anything. Especially with me.” I felt the press of his lips against my temple, even as the vision of him continued kissing my neck. When I didn’t move, he stopped, looking up at me. “You can stop, Nor. If you want to.”
“No!” I grabbed at him in a panic, unsure of which version of my body was moving. “I don’t want to stop. I just—I just need some help, I think.”
Tugging me closer to the edge of the bath, Dewalt took a step back, his gaze assessing and appreciative. I fought the instinct to close my legs, to hide myself, and bit my lip in celebration when I won the battle. As the Dewalt in the baths stepped forward, hand moving down to that spot, I jumped as he grasped my actual hand at the same time.
“Take your time,” he said, and the way he moved my hand matched what the other version of him did, and we began to stroke the delicate skin there. Soft-touched, as if I were fragile, our fingertips dragged on either side of my opening, and my hips jerked in response. “You’ve touched yourself here, right?”
“Yes,” I panted.
“And here?” he asked, moving toward the tiny swollen bud that was entirely too sensitive to the touch. He used my finger to rub a gentle circle around it, varying the pressure at each pass. I couldn’t use my voice, only nodding and whimpering as my legs shook.
“And you didn’t make yourself come doing this?” he asked, brows pulling down into a frown.
“I don’t think so?” My voice was husky, as if it came from deep within my stomach, tense and heavy.
“You’d know,” he said before leaning forward to kiss me. Warm, his mouth moved over my lips, and it took me a moment to realize the pressure was stronger because both versions of him kissed me. Slanting his mouth over mine, he moved with purpose. I wondered briefly who taught him to kiss this way. As if he needed it to breathe, as if he’d drown without it.
“Did you put your fingers inside yourself? Did you think of me when you did it?”
“Yes,” I gasped, a high-pitched cry dragging out the word as he manipulated my hand, pressing my finger inside me. And then the vision of him did the same thing.
“Gods, you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Do you know that, Nor? You drive me fucking crazy,” he said, sliding a second finger beside the first. Despite my wanton display, I blushed. Dewalt, the most handsome man I’d ever seen, found me beautiful, and that shouldn’t have had as much of an effect on me as it did. I couldn’t help it as I swiveled my hips into the motion. “I should have gone slower that day in the palace,” he said. “I should have savored every moment of this.”
“Dewalt,” I sighed reverently. “This feels too good. You’re too good,” I panted. There were so many things I wanted to say back to him, but my mind was a jumbled mess. I wasn’t sure I could properly tell him how I felt. A muscle in my leg tightened and released, twitching as he stroked a spot within me. I mimicked the motion with my own hand as Dewalt’s thumb moved gentle circles over my knuckles. The vision of him did the same movement over that swollen spot.
His large hand gripped my thigh, opening my legs wider as I increased my pace. I wished he would climb over me, bring his hard body down atop mine. I wanted more than my fingers, and I wanted more from him. Dewalt was safe, Dewalt was gentle, Dewalt was caring. He was good, and despite my fears, despite my hesitations, I deserved good. Having him like this wasn’t enough. I worried that having his body, having his heart, having his smiles, wouldn’t be enough.
Could I have it all? Would the gods allow me to keep him?
His hand moved over the inside of my thigh, gently petting as I continued pressing my fingers inside me. The vision had faded, and I wondered if it was because of my desperation for this to be real between us. Or was it because of my fear of losing him? My body tensed and relaxed; waves of pleasure that seemed as if they were about to crest never did. I was running toward something on an ever-disappearing horizon. My hand suddenly cramped, and I frowned.
“I don’t think I’m doing it right,” I gritted out, frustrated. “Something is supposed to happen, right?”
“Considering you pulled yourself out of my vision, I’d say you aren’t focusing on your body,” he said. “That feeling? The one curling your toes? It will keep building until it releases—and that part feels really good, Nor.”
“Can’t you just do it?” I asked.
“Oh, no, Nor. This first one is yours. It’s sacred.”
“Sacred?” I scoffed, reaching for his hand to drag it over me.
“You’ve spent your whole life worshiping the gods. It’s time to worship yourself, for once,” he said. Rolling toward me, he brought the tips of his fingers over my lower stomach. “Just think of your pleasure and have patience, Nor. I have nowhere to be other than right here, watching you make yourself feel good.”
He pressed his lips to my shoulder, the one covered in scars, as he continued tracing his fingers over the pebbled flesh beneath my navel. After a moment, I moved my hand back where it had been between my legs, ready to try once more. He moved his lips over me with such delicate precision, I almost wept. He knew the exact spots which bothered me, avoiding them, and he was so painfully gentle in the areas where I had feeling.
Slowly, I circled that sensitive bundle of nerves, increasing the pressure with each pass. My breathing turned ragged as my pleasure increased. Tense, there was a pressure building within me, and I knew the longer I moved, the more I thought of Dewalt, the closer I would get to releasing it.
“I need you to kiss me,” I panted. “Put your fingers inside me,” I begged, following my instinct as my muscles clenched. “Like the vision.”
“Hanwen, help me,” he murmured, but then he moved, propping himself on an elbow as he pressed his fingertips to my entrance. “Gods, you’re drenched,” he said as he pushed inside with one finger and then another. My body reacted without any thought, and I began to writhe against him as I moved faster. Maintaining firm pressure, I whimpered as he and I worked together to bring the promised release to my tired muscles. When he leaned down to kiss me, I whimpered into his mouth. His fingers kept moving inside me, relentless, and I gasped for breath.
“You’re perfect, Nor,” he whispered against my lips. “The answer to a fucking prayer.”
And I would never be certain it wasn’t his words which caused it, because at that moment, I understood what he’d meant. My entire body tingled as that pressure released. Shutting my eyes tight, I saw flashes of white and gold as I tried to catch my breath. My back arched off the furs, and a groan tore from my body. Dewalt’s fingers slowed, working me through the aftershocks of my pleasure. His touch was a gentle stroke that made my hips buck. He stole another kiss from my lips before whispering things I couldn’t hear into the crook of my neck.
I was overwhelmed, and my entire body went slack as I caught my breath. Strangely, I rationalized why the Myriad made novices go without this. I wasn’t sure how long it would be possible to serve the gods before needing to do this again. And again. And with partners? No wonder we were discouraged from physical pleasure.
“Skies,” I breathed, and my eyes began to water. Before I knew what was happening, hot tears spilled freely. “Oh, no,” I gasped, swiping furiously at my cheeks. “I’m sorry, I’m not—I don’t know why?—”
Dewalt shushed me, gently turning my face toward him. “It’s all right, songbird. It happens sometimes. It can be emotional, and it’s completely normal.”
I swallowed, the tears stopping nearly as soon as they started. The vulnerability, the pleasure, the sheer happiness of being in his presence, must have overwhelmed me for a moment. I was just glad he didn’t think I was crying because I was sad; I was the furthest thing from it.
“Thank the gods,” I said, wiping my eyes and turning in his arms. When something hard and wet jabbed me in the hip, I gasped. “Is that?—”
“Ignore it,” he grunted, shifting so I could no longer feel him.
“I will not . You should find your pleasure too,” I said, surprised by the sultry lilt to my voice.
“This was for you,” he said. “I don’t want to make this about me.”
“Let this be for me too, then,” I said, before grabbing his hand and putting it on him. Emboldened by my own release, I wrapped my hand around his. “Show me how to do this too,” I whispered.
He swore, and a soft laugh tumbled from his lips as he looked at me in disbelief. His breath hitched as he moved, pressing his lips to mine once more. “It won’t take much,” he said, and then he buried his face into my neck as he began to move his hand in short, fluid strokes. I held on, studying each movement. A slight flick to his wrist made his grip twist with each thrust, and his hips began to move in tandem with his hand. When my hand brushed against his length, I was surprised to feel how soft he was there. Groaning into my skin, his mouth was hot against my neck as he pushed his length into his fist a few more times before abruptly stopping.
I watched in fascination when he rolled onto his back. His abdomen tightened, muscles taut, as he continued to thrust into his fist. There were droplets of wetness on the tip of him, and part of me wanted to move his hand just to look. I’d never seen the intimate parts of another person before, and I was certain he was a perfect example. He used his free hand to reach for me, wrapping it around the back of my neck and hauling me down to kiss him. Tiny pants of breath escaped over my lips, faster as his chest heaved. And when he found his release, he moaned into my mouth.
“Gods, Nor. I-I—” He swallowed, pressing my forehead to his as he caught his breath. “I…Thank you.”
And as he cleaned off his stomach, bashful and apologetic, I bent over and kissed him again—gently this time. He smiled at me, something beautiful and raw, and I realized he hadn’t given me a smile like that before. His dark hair fanned out around him, and my heart slammed against my chest in realization. There was no going back from this.
There wasn’t a world in which I wouldn’t crave more with him. Fear suddenly gripped my mind. Knowledge that he hadn’t found love after Martyr Lucia’s death weighed heavily upon me. Was there any hope I could be the exception? Who was I to think I could change him?
I screwed my eyes shut as I kissed him again, willing this moment between us to stretch out forever. He cupped the back of my head, hauling my body against his, and when I put my leg over him, he allowed it. Curling a heavy arm around my waist, Dewalt pulled me tight against him. The desire to take him into my body was strong, my core clenching at the thought, but I couldn’t allow myself thoughts like that. I knew that was something I’d never recover from if he had no desire to keep me.
And, skies, did I want to keep him.
So, I did the only thing which seemed right, and I began to pray.