Chapter Eight A Sea of Melancholy #2
I took a breath. “To understand why, you need to know that while Ironclaw is the main character of the story, the entire series hinges on one aspect of his life. Yes, we see him go on adventures, fall in love with the queen”—Draw flicked his eyes in a kind of angsty roll—“but it’s overshadowed by the fact that his sister, the Lady Bianca, was kidnapped.
That’s the real story. The motivation behind everything he does is to search for her—”
“The letter,” Draw groaned. “My cousin is the Dark Mage’s apprentice, isn’t she?”
“I’m so sorry.”
Draw ran a hand through his hair in frustration.
Honestly, I was surprised Ironclaw worked this out before him.
Perhaps that showed how continuously Ironclaw thought about his sister.
Draw and I had talked little of her by design; I didn’t want to accidentally give something away.
I got the impression that Draw had mourned his cousin for dead.
“My family...we were all distraught when Bianca went missing. And my mother—did you know she draws?—she drew up a likeness of Bianca. My father circulated prints through the countryside. It’s been so long with no trace of her.
” He blinked. “But if Bianca’s still alive, isn’t there any chance of saving her? ” His voice lightened with hope.
“That’s the conclusion Ironclaw’s coming to right now. He’s going to trade you to the Dark Mage in return for her safety.”
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AS IF THAT WAS TOO much to take in, Draw laid back on the bedroll, blanket mussed beneath him, legs dangling off the side and across his rug.
I sat upright next to him. It was late, but I couldn’t leave him.
Now more than ever I wanted to stay, but I also needed to be present for his own protection.
I could practically hear Draw’s mind humming next to me, digesting the fact that his cousin would betray him, that he could be dead soon.
“I told you he never liked me.” Draw sighed. “I didn’t expect him to sell me to a malicious wizard, you know, but the seeds were there.”
“We’re going to figure this out,” I said. “We’ll talk to the queen—”
“She might think a trade is a fine idea,” he said softly, offhandedly, but I could tell it was a real worry to him. “If giving up one person ultimately saves lives...”
“Keep people around, then. Ironclaw can’t kidnap you if everyone’s watching.”
I lay down next to Draw. He took my head on his arm.
Hmm.
“Your bed is more comfortable than mine,” I said.
His shoulder shook with silent laughter.
“You poor dear. You only have the military kit, don’t you?
When you travel on these campaigns, one thing you learn quick is to bring your own bedding.
” He tsked and I got the sense he was relieved to have something to think of other than the danger Ironclaw posed.
“Or,” he said lightly, “you’re welcome here. ”
“I won’t ever let him take you.”
Draw brought his spare hand to my stomach and traced the fabric there.
“Mmm. And I have all this training now. Perhaps I’ll challenge him to a duel.”
I sat up on one elbow, my hair falling in a blanket over my shoulder. I locked my eyes on his. “You can’t give up.” My voice was earnest.
Draw smiled just about the most beautiful smile I’d ever seen. He didn’t look worried. Instead, he was calm, reverent. It was as if he’d set aside everything else in his mind but me.
He also came up on his elbow and kissed me. As he did so, he pushed my hair back and ran his hand down my arm, letting it rest at my waist. I felt the end-of-day stubble on his lips and warmth creeping over my neck. My tongue flashed out to meet his, and I felt a pant building up in me.
Though we’d been briefly horizontal in the ruins and then again in this very tent, this felt different. My promise not to leave him, the bargaining he was already doing with what he believed was the time he had left.
I wouldn’t let him give up. I pulled his shirt into my fist and slid my tongue into his mouth.
He pivoted to lay half over me, his weight on my chest. I felt spread before him, nearly helpless with my need for him as he kissed me.
He broke to smooth my hair back again and put his mouth down by my ear. He licked it slowly and I shivered.
Then he was gone and peeling his clothes off down to his linen shorts.
I sat halfway up, and he went before me, between my knees, hands on my ankles to pull off my boots.
I watched as he inched my dress up, hands running along my bare calves, then thighs.
He knelt and sucked at the sensitive skin of my inner thigh.
When he released, I pulled my dress to my hips, past my underwear.
I had been determined to wear something that would shock him, so I finally put on the black lace.
Surprise flickered on his face.
“Oh, I like this. I like this very much.”
He bent to bring his mouth to me, the humid air of his breath warming me as he nuzzled the crook of each leg. I lay back but kept my knees bent and upright. Draw ran his tongue along my smooth skin.
Eager now, I sat up to pull off the dress and camisole, letting my hair cover my shoulders like a drape.
Draw shifted to pull me into his lap, a hand went immediately to my breasts as we kissed.
I felt soft against his fingers even as I grew taut.
I lay back against his chest as his fingers explored the edges of the lace.
One finger slipped under. I felt my entire body still, all my attention on only that one finger as it traced the outline of my full shapes.
I don’t know where I found the nerve, but I crept from his lap and, still on my knees, hooked my thumbs under the lace.
I wasn’t sure the most elegant way to get my underclothes off, so I simply pulled them down, then shifted to one hip to push them farther down my thighs.
I sat up, one arm crossed over my lap as if to cover the dark hair there.
It was silly, he’d already been acquainted with that part of me, but there was something about the way he was looking at me that made me flush.
Or perhaps it was only the knowledge of what I wanted from him.
Draw seemed to guess I needed to move more slowly. He looked back at me, the only movement was his hand going to rest on my arm. He looked me over, his face going dreamy, his lips parted. I removed my arm and his hand settled on my thigh.
After I initiated a kiss, he slid off his shorts and lay back on the pillow, his penis straining toward the tent ceiling.
I reached first for his hip, then told myself not to be a coward and grasped his length.
Draw shuddered. His foreskin felt unfamiliar under my fingertips.
I’d never seen an uncircumcised penis before his.
I took my time touching him, experimenting with him, and then bent over and wet him in my mouth.
The two times I had done this with a college boyfriend I had been put off.
Felt judged in a moment of awkwardness, then used.
This was different though. I felt Draw was eager to have me near him, however I decided.
I was glad to make Draw feel as good as he made me feel.
He pulsed against my tongue and wrapped his long fingers through my hair.
“You feel incredible,” he said.
I deepened my reach, and he moaned. I was eager to make him react. He wasn’t playing it cool, wasn’t trying to trick me into doing more for him than he did for me. He was swept up in being with me like no man ever had been.
I sat up, covertly wiping my mouth, then lay on my side next to him, uncertain what to do next. Was I expected to bring him to completion as he had me? But then how did I facilitate what I really wanted—him inside me?
Draw pressed his face to my breasts as he rolled me over to my back. I felt a burst of relief that he knew what to do. He lay between my legs. I arched into him, and he licked me for some time, the muscles of my legs tightening, my toes straining to curl.
Then he was above me, his length in his hand, as if preparing.
“Dottie, do you want to, um, engage—”
“Yes,” I breathed. “Can you—”
I swallowed as he lowered himself, the tip of his penis against my clitoris. I felt an intense contraction of focus in my body. I was starving for him.
For a time, he massaged himself against me, then dipped a finger to my opening. His eyes darted up to see my response before he slid a finger in. “You’re wet,” he whispered.
I wasn’t aware how we came to lie on each other again, just that we were. I was sweating, or one of us was sweating. We were warm enough even with the blanket under us. His breath was hot.
I was ready so I shifted to tip him down to my opening. He felt large, and I felt tight. I took a breath as Draw’s entire body froze, his muscles contracting with urgency.
He didn’t ask if I was ready, but neither did he push into me. He hovered over me on his arms, letting me get used to how he felt. I angled my hips.
“Yes, Dottie,” he whispered. His eyes were closed.
I smiled, but he couldn’t see it.
I pulled his forearms, trying to position him where I wanted. He slid forward and I felt full, then, even more so.
We paused, his chest angled over mine now, his face near mine. His whisper was strained. His voice hot against my neck. “I know this isn’t always the same for women. Do you want to touch yourself while I’m here?”
I felt shy responding aloud. He waited, the tent silent. I slipped a finger between my lips and flexed it along my clit. It was tiny and tight, ready to be touched.
I had been uncertain whether the offer was genuine, but if anything, it made him even more excited.
“Yes,” Draw whispered. “You are being so good to me, you deserve to...”
While stimulating myself, I was enjoying the thrust of him between my legs much more than I thought I would. Soon my hand was pressed between us, his lips at my neck and ear. Soon we were near frantic, his whispers a blur. If I heard half of what he said, it was enough to know he worshiped my body.
I was getting tighter, my knees tensing while my thighs fought to ensnare Draw. His mouth was at my ear panting, my finger flicking while he dipped into me.
I felt swollen, full, overindulged, and then the walls of my vagina flexed around him with the end, and I felt his warmth spill into me. We held tight against each other, then softened. He pulled out of me and the musky scent of him spilled into the air.
He wiped himself off on a cloth and I took one for myself, and then he lay alongside me.
Gratitude poured off him, as well as a hint of arrogance, our intensity transitioning into triumph. “A good occupation indeed,” he said.
I put my hand on Draw’s upper thigh and relaxed.
I felt fully comfortable as if I’d never have to pull a blanket over myself again.
Just lie and let him look at me. I knew that wasn’t a good idea though.
I should pee to avoid a UTI. And there was something else I needed to tell him.
My voice felt rough in the quiet space we had built.
“Don’t worry, I can’t get pregnant here. ”
Draw wiped sweat from his chest. “That’s handy magic. I was going to suggest securing a tea but if Fairy Bookmother magic will—”
Oh! I bolted upright.
I knew what I had to do next.
“I have to talk to Sorrel!”