Chapter Forty-Five Siyala
My thighs clench as Xander guides me towards his mouth.
I watch for any sign of hesitation, but the man simply looks at me as if he’s come to enjoy a feast, and who am I to deny him the opportunity?
Still, I know what he’s really giving me is control.
The power to do what I please with him and the agency to stop it if I need to.
Stopping, however, is not at all what I want.
I move my undergarments—the fabric soaked with both my arousal and his release—to the side as I slowly lower down.
Xander, however, is impatient, and the next thing I know, his tongue is dragging up my center, his nose nuzzling the soft white curls set at the apex of my thighs as he pulls me even closer to him.
The sensation draws a delirious whimper from me, every nerve ending burning brightly at the heat of his mouth and careful glide of his teeth against me.
Eyes locking with mine, my heart skitters as warmth travels through me, my body melting into his hold.
“Your taste, Siyala, I could fucking live off of it.” And then his tongue is swirling, passing through my core and flicking up towards my clit in a single motion that sends liquid desire dripping down my spine.
I groan as he devours me, encouraging me to rock gently against him as his own noises of pleasure seep out from that wicked mouth.
Pushing into his hair, my hand holds him in place as I move, becoming further lost to my desire with every lap of his tongue.
I was already walking the edge of an orgasm watching him come undone, but as I meet his gaze now beneath heavy lids, it’s enough to push me over that edge, stars bursting across my vision as I come.
My body trembles and ears ring, my free hand planting against his headboard as I dare to catch my breath.
But Xander, he’s insatiable. A fact he proves by curling his fingers into my thighs, holding me in place.
Sensitive in the aftermath of my orgasm, every brush of lips is intensified.
Nearly painful in its pleasure. One of his hands slides slowly up my side, cautiously teasing as his fingers drift over my nipple, my lips parting on a desperate gasp.
Before long, I’m climbing back up to that peak, rolling my hips against his face until my vision is clouded with white stars and I all but collapse on top of him.
Xander pulls me down gently so that my head is resting over his chest. The room smells of us both, a combination that makes me rub my thighs together, slick as they already are. “Are you unsatisfied?” he asks against my temple, and I can’t help but laugh, feeling so far from anything of the sort.
When I’ve calmed, I tilt my head up to look at him, finding his eyes already waiting. “I was nervous,” I whisper softly, my fingers dragging over the muscles of his chest and down, into the hard divots of his abdomen.
“Truly? I would not have known.” He traces my cheek with his knuckle. “Why?”
“The same reason as you,” I say with a slight shrug, leaning closer to kiss his chest. Ugly thoughts dare to rear their heads within me, but they’re squashed when Xander leans down, capturing my mouth with a gentle kiss.
That is what he does, silences those fears and nightmares within me.
Or maybe it’s that I know with him, I am safe.
Cared for. A knot grows thick in my throat when he pulls away, his expression soft as he takes me in.
“Let us not say it.” Coming up onto my elbow, I cup the side of his face with my hand, bringing my forehead to his.
“I do not want to say it.” Even if it roars in my head: Goodbye. Goodbye. Goodbye.
“Then we won’t.” Fingers curling around my chin, he kisses me again and again until all thoughts eddy from my mind but the taste of us on my tongue and the warmth of him beneath my hand.
Eventually, we get up to wash, stripping bare in front of each other.
But the fires that were built of our yearning have dimmed in the wake of what is coming soon.
The time has been a gift, I try to remind myself.
But, gods, do I wish we had more of it. Under the hot water of the shower, Xander washes me, dropping to his knees as he runs the soap over my legs.
He kisses the scar left from the arrow, then next to the wound still healing from the commander.
When it’s my turn, I take my time. Letting myself map his body with my fingertips, teasing out a low rumble when I follow the dark hair that trails down the center of his lower abdomen.
I stop just short of his cock, though the impressive sight of it makes me wish again for more of that time. For simply more of him.
He tenses when I make my way behind him, and I’m struck speechless as I take in the jagged lines and criss-crossing patterns that mark his back.
I’d felt the raised skin earlier, even caught a small glimpse of the scars when he wore only an undershirt.
But these aren’t just small nicks. Xander had been flayed, his back a tapestry of the unimaginable pain he must have endured.
“It is a hideous thing to look at,” he says, and my heart cracks at the forced resolve in his voice.
“No.” Wrapping my arms around him from behind, I kiss the scar closest to me before laying my cheek against his back. Xander shivers beneath me, his hands resting over my own on his chest. “It is a hideous thing to have done.”
Before long, the water runs cold, and we’re forced to leave.
Drying off, we dress and enter the bedroom, the still messy state of the comforter like a preserved moment in time.
But Xander doesn’t hesitate to pull it back and climb into the sheets, and then I’m curled into his side, breathing him in.
The steady beat of his heart is a lullaby to my ears, and within minutes, I feel myself slipping into sleep, fighting to avoid it so that I might remember everything about this.
“Sleep, Siyala,” Xander says before pressing a kiss to the top of my head.
Curling my fingers over his bare chest, I lose the battle, and before long, I’m awash in a sea of darkness, calm waters surrounding me and filled with that familiar gentle rhythm.
The knock on the door comes sooner than I might have hoped. Gently scooting himself out from beneath my grasp, Xander answers it, muffled voices speaking before he shuts the door with a sigh, a folded paper in one hand and a second pair of large boots in his other.
I sit up quickly and brush the still damp strands of hair from my eyes, but he doesn’t need to say anything for me to know.
My heart sinks as I throw my legs over the edge of the bed.
It’s time to go. I try to force determination to my face the same way Xander has, but he’s so much better at slipping into that mask than I am, and when he catches my trembling fingers struggling to affix the clasp of the cloak, he pulls me in for a hug, taking a deep breath with his nose pressed to my head.
“Don’t say it,” I whisper again when he pulls back.
Dragging his thumbs under my eyes, he collects my freshly fallen tears. “Okay, Siyala, I won’t.”
Once we are both dressed, hoods of our cloaks thrown over our heads, we leave the barracks hand in hand, traversing over the training grounds under a dreary early morning sky.
I expect there to be more celebration when we break past the final wall of the palace, but there is only sadness, a boulder lodged in my gut as we follow a slender dirt road away from the gray stone fortress and the first drops of rain begin to fall.
The air is brisk, stinging my throat and lungs as we jog towards the beach, the satchel Xander gave me hitting my hip with every step.
I tense when the salty brine of sea water hits my nose, stomach lurching as the sound of men chatting reaches my ears.
My fingers close more tightly around Xander’s as the wooden planks of the pier come into view.
Trudging through the wet fine sand of the beach, I think that, of all the pain and sadness I have faced, this might be the hardest of them all.
“Siyala—”
“Don’t say it,” I rush out, a broken sob punctuating my words.
Xander obeys, though his heart doubles its pace. A guard waits at the dock’s edge, hands clasped in front of him as he tries to shake off the colder temperatures near the water.
“Ship’s ready,” he says as we approach, and Xander nods, turning to face me.
“Remember what I told you. The coin is in your bag. Give it to the captain and keep hidden below deck. And if anyone gives you trouble—”
“Don’t hesitate to use the dagger.”
Xander nods, giving a lopsided smile before cupping my face.
His lips part, a goodbye despite my warning already building on his tongue.
I don’t give him the chance to say it before I press my mouth to his, hands wrapping around his wrists as I draw him closer, uncaring of the guard standing nearby.
To my relief, Xander reciprocates, his tongue lashing against mine as he kisses me harder.
Deeper. Stealing my breath just as I steal his until we are both left with our chests heaving.
“Xander—”
“I know,” he says, interrupting the guard as a horn sounds from the water. Forcing his hands to slide away from my face, I step back towards my waiting ship, taking one last look at him.
“Until next time, guardsman,” I say, just above the trickling of the rain as a tear tracks down my cheek. But I know there will never be a next time.
Eyes glassy, he dips his chin. “Until next time, shifter.”