Chapter Twenty-Nine #2
Shadach lifted the thin fabric of her skirt and Aoife’s breath caught, the anticipation driving her wild as the cool air hit the tender places of her skin. She counted the seconds in her head, waiting for him to do more.
One. He rolled the top of her underwear down.
Two. He pulled them to her thighs.
Three. He slipped them off her feet.
Spreading her, Shadach made a lithe flick with his finger, sending pulse after pulse of pleasure through Aoife’s pliant body. By the time the pulsing subsided, her clit was throbbing, begging for more. As if she would not be sated until he’d had his way with her again. And again. And again.
At once, Aoife’s mind was awash with white, her only thought the searing hot passion surging through her. And Shadach. Her Shadach. He was the one making her feel this way. He was the one fingering her clit until she went mad, her fingers digging into the soft sheets, her breath hitching.
Her clit swelled. More. More. “More.”
“Say ‘please’,” Shadach whispered in her ear, his voice dripping with primal lust.
“Please,” Aoife gasped, gripping his arm, feeling his strength beneath her fingertips. “I’m begging you, please.”
A feather light breeze brushed over her through the half-open window as the faint sound of a skirmish reached her ears.
It sounded a million miles away, drowned out by the savage beating of her heart.
Shadach pressed his thumb against her clit and a deep, guttural moan pushed its way up Aoife’s throat.
He swirled his thumb around her clit, every so often accentuating the pleasure with a brief stroke of the clit itself and making Aoife writhe at the sudden burst of delicious sensation.
Round and round he went until—
Aoife threw back her head, choking in air.
His fingers. One. Two. Three. They were inside her.
Aoife reached for him, digging her fingers into his masculine arm as he felt her, explored her, bewitched her.
Every nerve was set alight as he pressed into her, pulling out and then thrusting in. Her hips bucked, her heart skipped.
Let this never end. Let this pleasure. This passion. This love last forever.
Shadach withdrew his fingers and she moaned in protest. No.
Don’t let it be over. But Shadach was far from done.
He kissed his way up her body from her clit to her breasts.
With reverence and a voracious appetite, Shadach swirled her right nipple with his tongue, working the other with his fingers.
Aoife squirmed and gasped, her body on fire.
“I could worship with this body forever,” he groaned before nipping her breast. Aoife closed her eyes, prostrating herself in worship as Shadach drew the pleasure from her body like a master puppeteer.
With her breasts and clit throbbing, Aoife wondered how her pleasure could ever be greater, be more intense.
She did not have to wonder long.
He entered her with deference, with devotion, with voracious desire. The full length of him stretched her and filled her, her eyes fluttering, her body surging in want of him. More of him. Always more, more, more.
Shadach rocked in and out of her, finding every spot of pleasure inside her and coaxing it into a frenzy of need. Aoife entwined her fingers with his as she felt herself getting tighter, as if she were about to burst.
Interesting. That cold, brutal word sent a rush of ice water through Aoife. She cursed Hallus. Cursed herself. Gripping Shadach with perhaps too much force, Aoife brought his lips crashing onto hers as she focused on the pleasure, on the fullness. On Shadach.
Her climax came not with fireworks, but with a gentle wave, rocking her into the currents of bliss one after the other.
Soon after, Shadach came inside her, his body shaking, his power and romance enveloping her.
They stayed in each other’s arms for quite some time, there in their love nest of a bed.
Once they caught their breath, Aoife snuggled into Shadach’s arms and he held her tight.
“What happens next?” Aoife absently traced a pattern on his broad, tattooed chest.
Shadach kissed the top of her head. “We go back to the Western Lands and they help us get into the Emperor’s City.”
“Easy as that.”
Shadach laughed. “Easy as that.”
Aoife waited. Wondering if Shadach would say more. He didn’t.
“How did you do it?” Aoife finally said, trying to make herself seem casual. “The jewels, I mean.”
Aoife felt Shadach stiffen beneath her. Or was she imagining that? Surely, she was imagining it.
“Did you … steal them?” she ventured.
“No,” Shadach said. He sounded proud. “When you said Lord Patin was having issues with Grennen, it gave me an idea. Perhaps I could trade pertinent information about Grennen for Lord Patin’s jewels.
And that’s what happened. No malice, no thievery.
Thanks to you.” His voice was warm and, again, proud.
Aoife was, too. He had feared what he might have to do, might have to forfeit, in order to keep them both alive.
But that still didn’t answer one little question …
“How did you learn something that valuable about Grennen?”
Shadach grew stiffer still. He sat up, kissing her. “A little of this and a little of that. It’s not important.”
Getting up, he searched for his clothes, picking up the strewn fabric one at a time. “We best make preparations for the return trip.”
“It’s the middle of the night,” Aoife said with a light laugh. A laugh that sounded far more anxious than she’d wanted.
“I’m afraid Aristen isn’t going to wait patiently for me to claim the Kingdom. Besides, I’m too energised to sleep.” He leaned over and kissed her. “You should get some rest.”
As Shadach dressed, Aoife felt a coldness settling into her, and not just because she hadn’t put on her clothes.
There was an iciness in her stomach that she couldn’t shake.
Why hadn’t he told her how he’d done it?
Why had he been so stiff? They shared everything else, why not this?
His reaction had just been so … interesting.
~*~
Word of Shadach’s unprecedented conquest had travelled faster than the horses. When Aoife and Shadach rode through the menacing gates of the Western Lands this time they were met with a homecoming befitting a king.
An emperor, even.
Everyone came out to greet them. Well, to greet Shadach. The eyes of the Halcin when they crowded around him with cheers, clapping, and laughter passed over Aoife as if she were not there. This time, they didn’t look at her with hatred. They simply didn’t see her at all.
Aoife wasn’t sure which was worse.
Shadach greeted the crowd with ease, seeming to harbour no ill will.
He was a better person than she. Aoife’s heart warmed as she watched him smiling and joking with the crowd.
He looked so much more comfortable than when they’d first arrived.
Aoife suspected his Halcin was getting better, too.
He didn’t look like he was stumbling over his words or having to stop and think about what he’d say next.
Sitting atop his horse, speaking to the crowd with such ease, he looked every bit as regal as he would one day be.
Aoife’s heart cooled. Everything was okay now.
At least, okay enough for the moment. But it still bothered her that he hadn’t told her how he’d gotten the jewels.
Did he not trust her? Did he think she wouldn’t understand?
There was nothing in their history to suggest she wouldn’t.
There must have been some reason he wasn’t telling her.
As the crowd moved closer, Aoife found herself getting pushed further and further to the outside, just like at the pub. Only this time, Shadach didn’t seem to notice. He was talking to someone who looked important, or at least thought he was important based on the way he carried himself.
That’s when Aoife saw her. DaFira. She was near the centre of the crowd, looking at Shadach with pure maternal love and pride.
Then, she glanced at Aoife. All the love and pride disappeared.
You don’t belong here. DaFira’s words from before echoed in Aoife’s head and, judging from her eyes, DaFira had not changed her opinion.
Suddenly, Aoife felt herself getting thin, invisible, as if she were outside herself and watching her own body watch the crowd.
The laughing. The cheering. The celebration.
It was all taking place without her. If she stayed with Shadach, if she married him, she would be the Empress of these people.
Of these people who did not want her. Of these people who thought she had no business being their Empress.
Maybe she didn’t.
“Isn’t this reception just full of irony?” came Hallus’ voice from beside Aoife. The sound pulled her back into her body. Hallus had ridden with them from Everglade City, all smiles and friendliness since Shadach had succeeded.
“Why are you even here?” she said. Or rather, snapped. Not for the first time.
“I’m a smart man,” he said. Full of calm. Not for the first time. “I want to be in the good graces of the future Emperor.” He smiled, the gesture not reaching his eyes. Again, not for the first time.
“And,” Aoife said, “you don’t want Shadach to kill you for almost getting me killed.”
Hallus put his hand over his heart, looking wounded that she had even brought it up. “It was a misunderstanding! I swear it, Aoife.”
That was the story he was sticking with.
It was the one he’d told Shadach: that he’d been trying to help.
Honest. It had been an honest mistake. Not much good considering both Hallus and Shadach could see Shadows being created.
However, they had decided to ignore the Shadows because Hallus was absurdly well connected when it came to the underbelly of society.
Which meant he had a lot of resources they needed to safely get Shadach on the throne.
Aoife knew it. Shadach knew it. They both hated it.