CHAPTER 7
OUT AT SEA
Present Day
Iclose my eyes, taking a deep breath in through my nose, willing the tension from my muscles as I blow it out. The scent of rainstorms and wind fills the room. His scent.
“Relax,” he whispers, his fingers gently tracing the line of my hips where he grips me.
I unfurl my fists, meet his gaze, and give him a determined nod.
In one graceful movement, Vakesh collects me, sits on the cot, and pulls me into his lap so that I straddle his thighs.
The silk dress bunches embarrassingly high, and I am sure every drop of blood in my body is flowing into my cheeks.
Tremors run the length of my spine as his hands slide from my hips, over the bunched fabric, and onto my bare thighs, his thumbs stroking softly.
His dark eyes are locked on mine, pupils blown so wide that it feels like if I lean in, I can follow those dark pools straight into the depths of his soul.
I want to run from the room and beg him for more all at once.
I am a tangle of nerves, teetering on the edge of the unknown with a man I trust with my life.
Countless questions bubble to the surface of my mind and there isn’t enough air in my lungs to form a single one.
Adjusting himself beneath me, he pulls me close until his lips brush the shell of my ear.
“Stop thinking about it,” he says.
Before I can argue, before I can think, his fingers sweep against my core, buffered by the thin swath of fabric beneath my dress.
He drags a single finger across my center, swiping up until it brushes that tender bundle of nerves between my legs.
My breath catches in my throat, and I swallow hard.
A vain attempt to dislodge my voice. He grins like a fool, hooks his finger behind the delicate barrier between us and pulls, tearing the seams and casting the garment to the floor.
His hand follows the length of my thigh until he sweeps against the wet evidence of my desire, now bared to him. He inhales sharply the same moment I do, his mask slipping almost imperceptibly, his composure regained so quickly that I question what I’ve seen.
Why does he hide from me?
His fingers slowly glide across my entrance, teasing and parting me only to retreat and begin again, both taunting and promising. His eyes take in my breasts as my nipples peak against the taut fabric holding them in, brushing against him with every heaving breath I take.
“Kesh.” It comes out in a breathy plea as I close my eyes, resting my forehead against his.
With a slow caress he parts me, his fingers gathering the slick need between my legs. I want more and, without thinking, press my hips forward, my desire, my very nature, urging him inside of me.
He hisses and withdraws his hand. “None of that.”
I hold my breath, wishing I hadn’t pressed for more than he is willing to give. That breath releases in a sigh when he pushes his hand back between my thighs. His finger strokes in lazy circles, drawing up and rounding that tiny bud of sensitive nerves like liquid silk.
I can’t help the moan that escapes my lips as my eyelids flutter closed.
My stomach clenches with every stroke of his finger, and his grip tightens around my waist. The darkness within me dampens, replaced by a need that quickly builds into a single blinding focus.
It threatens to overwhelm me, but I ride it as it grows into a shuddering climax, the sweetest release.
“Well done,” Kesh whispers as every muscle in my body goes slack.
He releases my hip, gently brushing stray hairs off my flushed cheeks, tucking them behind my ears as I sway in his lap.
“Why don’t you try to get some sleep, and I’ll come back in a few hours?” he says softly, lifting me off his lap, smoothing my dress back down to the floor. “If it keeps your monsters at bay, you can do it yourself next time.”
The smile he offers me before he leaves seems forced, but maybe he simply feels as awkward as I do. Sleep doesn’t come easily, though I feel like it should. Every unasked question plays on a loop in my mind but only one really worries me.
Will this change everything? No. I don’t think so. It can’t.
Because there is nothing in this world I would take, nothing I wouldn’t keep if it meant he will never look at me the same way again.
Not even my demon. I will keep it without question and fight it gladly every night for the rest of my life if things can only stay the same.
I just can’t help the feeling that it’s too late and that I’ve just sacrificed the most precious thing I have in this world on the altar of my own stupidity.
“How were your dreams last night?”
Vakesh sits across from me, a variety of fruits arranged thoughtfully on the table between us. He arrived late in the morning, wearing his usual cheeky smile, filling my heart with promises of normality. Though he seems to be unchanged by last night’s lesson, I eye him skeptically.
“Muddled?” I sip the hot black tea he brought with him, tilting my head to the side thoughtfully. “The dreams were the same, only less—”
“Violent?” He quirks an eyebrow.
I smile and shake my head. “They were just less. I’m not sure how else to describe it.”
“And if you were home, would you be heading for the sparring ring this morning?”
“Absolutely.” I grin.
He frowns at that.
“But only because I love reminding Bront that he hasn’t bested me in years,” I say.
A beaming smile followed by his beautiful laughter causes his eyes to sparkle in the dim light of the room. “I’m not sure he needs to be reminded. You were barely eighteen when I realized you’d already outgrown most of your teachers.”
“When did I outgrow you?” I ask slyly, eyeing him over my steamy mug.
“If I’m still teaching you things, you haven’t outgrown me yet.”
The air in the room seems to still around us and I swear I hear his muscles creak under the tension.
“I suppose you’re right,” I laugh, trying to lighten the mood. “Though I admit, I’m glad it was you and not Leanna who taught me my last lesson.”
His laugh booms into the room, his eyes watering, and just like that, the tension dissipates from his body and the weight that had settled between us evaporates.
Us. We are just us. We are happy, and nothing will change.
I spend the entire day reminding myself of it. Every time he laughs, every sarcastic comment and cheeky smile he graces me with, I tell myself we are fine.
He stays through the day, and we reminisce about the years I was his student.
“You were always my favorite,” he admits, as if I don’t know.
“And you were always mine,” I assure him with my sweetest smile. And my heart aches because for some reason I can’t quite understand, the words feel a little too much like goodbye.
He stays for dinner, leaving shortly after with promises of returning in the morning. Two more days at sea and the following dawn will see us at port in A’kori, forcing us to part ways for stars only knows how long. Too many unknowns exist in each of our futures to make promises of days to come.
I hate that it bothers me, and I hate Leanna for tearing us apart years ago.
‘You were always my favorite.’ The words play over in my mind.
Leanna knew it and thought his favor made me weak, in more ways than she would ever say.
Leanna always had her reasons, and I have lived alongside her long enough to know that she is usually right in her decisions.
Just one more thing I will never admit to her.
I hang my dress in the wardrobe and settle into my cot for the night, leaving the lantern low.
My thoughts turn to my lesson early that morning and once again, questions flood my mind.
Is this something I will have to do every night?
Not that I mind, but it could prove difficult if ever I have to share a room.
Would Leanna approve? Do I care? Can I even do this on my own?
It is the last that stops the torrent of questions flooding through my mind.
None of the others matter if I can’t accomplish for myself what Vakesh had so easily done for me.
I roll onto my back, exhale deeply, and, with my brow furrowed in determination, shove my hand between my legs.
I mimic his movements exactly. A circling here, a swirl there, light dip, and glide.
My stomach clenches and my body jerks away from my hand in clear disapproval.
Too much pressure. Try again.
Twenty minutes later I growl in frustration. If Vakesh can call my release within seconds, there is no reason I cannot do the same. I debate trying again. I debate letting the dreams take hold and trying again in the morning. I debate pitch.
How quickly can I find a source in A’kori?
I decide on pulling the service bell rope. Five minutes later a knock sounds, and I open the door to be greeted by a rather sleep rumpled captain wearing a tired glare.
Clutching a sheet to my chest, I simply say, “Ale, lots of it.”
He grunts as he leaves to procure my request. I will hide the evidence and bathe before Vakesh comes by in the morning. What he doesn’t know won’t hurt me or lead to potentially embarrassing questions about my own inadequacy.
I leap across the room gleefully when the knock sounds, announcing my late-night delivery. The smile quickly falls from my face when I am met with Vakesh on the other side, half brooding, half cheeky smile. He raises the jug of ale, swinging it on his finger as he quirks a brow.
I pull my shoulders back, raise my chin defiantly with a simple, “Thank you,” and reach for the jug.
He only snatches it away before pushing his way into my room.
“I didn’t realize the captain was one of your spies,” I say sweetly, adjusting the sheet wrapped around my body. Closing the door, I mentally prepare for the disappointment that is undoubtedly about to spill from his lips.