Chapter 4 Process Existential Dread Through Carnal Distraction
(It’s Basically Therapy)
Kazimir
The camp sprawled before us in the moonlight. My blackout orders had been followed to the letter—not a single torch or lantern pierced the darkness.
I guided the horse through the maze of tents, my mind still snagged on what I’d seen from the ridge. Dark wings, impossibly vast, stretching across the northern sky. Not a cloud formation. Not a trick of the light. Something ancient and wrong that made the runes in my bones ache with recognition.
Then I’d blinked and it was gone.
I forced my mind away from those impossible wings, focusing instead on the immediate, the tangible. Arabella’s warmth against my chest. The subtle shift of her hips with each step of the horse. Her scent mixing with leather and night air. My body responded to the distraction eagerly—too eagerly.
By the time we reached camp, my cock was hard and my hands itched to confirm she was real, solid, here.
“You’re brooding,” she said, her voice cutting through the darkness.
“I don’t brood. I strategize.”
She snorted softly. “You’re strategizing very intensely about something that was supposedly nothing.” She turned her head, and I caught the flash of her smile in the moonlight. “It’s very attractive, if that helps.”
What helped was the way her ass pressed back against me. What helped was knowing that in a few minutes, I’d have her alone in our tent, and I could work out this restless energy in a much more satisfying way.
Our tent was pitched at the center of camp. I dismounted first, then lifted her down. My hands lingered on her waist, thumbs brushing the strip of skin where her shirt had ridden up. She shivered.
“Sleep,” I said firmly. “You need rest before tomorrow.”
“I’m not tired.” She stepped closer, her fingers finding the edge of my cloak. “Besides, you’re the one who looks like he needs to work off some tension.”
She wasn’t wrong. The vision of those wings had left me wound tight as a crossbow string. Add to that the appearance of Lord Sebastian—with his perfectly earnest face and his history of sharing dances with my wife—and I was one provocation away from setting something on fire.
I held the flap open for Arabella, then followed her inside.
The space was spartanly furnished—a large bedroll, our packs, a small chest. But it smelled like magic, like us, and that was enough to make my blood heat.
“Help me with these,” she said, already working at the laces of her tunic.
I moved behind her, my fingers replacing hers. But instead of loosening the ties, I pulled her back against me, my mouth finding that spot where her neck met her shoulder. She melted into me with a soft sigh.
“Kaz…”
I nipped at her skin. “I thought you weren’t tired.”
“I’m not.” She pressed her ass back against my cock, and I bit back a groan. “But if you keep doing that, we’re never going to get these clothes off.”
And that was something I really wanted. We broke apart long enough to deal with clothing, but even that simple task became complicated.
Her fingers kept finding bare skin instead of buckles.
My mouth kept returning to her throat when I should have been unlacing her shirt.
We were making enough noise to wake half the camp, fumbling and cursing softly as we fought with stubborn fastenings.
“Fuck this,” I growled, giving up on finesse.
I spun her around and pushed her onto the bedroll, following her down until she was on her hands and knees. My hand fisted in her hair, pulling her head back just enough to expose the elegant line of her throat.
“Good?” I growled against her ear.
“Yes.” The word came out breathless, needy, perfect.
I yanked her leggings down over her hips with zero ceremony. She was already wet—I couldn’t see it in the darkness but I could smell her arousal, feel the slickness against my fingers when I touched her. It made my cock throb painfully against my own clothes.
I freed myself with one hand, keeping the other tangled in her hair. No preamble, no teasing—I notched myself at her entrance and thrust home.
She cried out, the sound muffled by a pillow as I pushed her face down into it. Her cunt clenched around me, hot and perfect and mine. I set a punishing pace, each thrust driving her into the pillow.
This wasn’t tender. This was claiming. Taking.
Her whole body trembled as I pounded into her. Every thrust drove deeper, harder, chasing away the memory of those phantom wings and the gnawing certainty that something was coming for us. For her.
The sounds of our coupling filled the tent. My thrusts grew erratic as I chased my release, driving deeper, harder. She was moaning into the pillow.
I pulled her hair harder, forcing her to arch her back. The new angle let me hit that spot inside her that made her whole body seize. My foot knocked against something as I adjusted position, sending it toppling with a tremendous crash.
I didn’t care. Let the whole fucking army know I was taking my wife.
But Arabella tensed beneath me, embarrassment flooding through our bond.
“Stop thinking,” I commanded, punctuating the words with a particularly deep thrust.
She shook her head, fighting to keep quiet even as her body trembled on the edge. The conflict between her need for release and her determination to maintain some dignity in the middle of an army camp was holding her back.
Fine. If she needed permission to let go, I’d give it to her.
With a thought and a flick of my fingers, I cast a silencing ward around the tent. The magic shimmered into place, cutting us off from the outside world.
I bent low so I could speak into her ear. “Now scream for me.”
I thrust inside her a few more times, angling my cock just how I knew she liked it. Her body shuddered beneath me. Without the fear of being overheard, she let out a satisfying cry as she came.
The sound pushed me over the edge. I buried myself to the hilt and came hard, filling her with pulse after pulse of my release. Stars exploded behind my eyes. My runes sang with power. For a moment, nothing existed except her and this and us.
For a moment, we stayed like that, breathing hard. My whole body tingled and I didn’t want it to end. If someone had told me a few months ago that I’d rather stay buried inside my wife than conquer Solandris, I would have laughed in their face and had them executed for wasting my time.
“You could have cast that spell from the beginning,” Arabella said once she caught her breath.
“Where’s the fun in that?”
She pushed herself up on shaky arms and looked at me over her shoulder. Even in the darkness, I could feel the heat of her stare. “We’ve been trying to be quiet for weeks. In our own chambers. In our own fortress.”
I smirked, still buried inside her. “I’ve never made it a secret that I like people to know how thoroughly I satisfy my wife.”
She clenched around me deliberately, and my cock twitched with interest despite having just come. “Arrogant bastard.”
I pulled out slowly, feeling my seed drip from her. It sent a fresh wave of possessive satisfaction through me. Mine. Marked. Claimed.
We cleaned up in comfortable silence, though I noticed her movements were a bit unsteady. Good. I wanted her to feel me tomorrow while she rode into battle. A reminder of who she belonged to.
As we settled onto the bedroll, she curled into my side, her head on my chest. I traced a finger over her bare shoulder and then down to her breast.
“Kaz, what did you really see on the ridge?”
I tensed, but forced myself to relax. “Nothing that matters tonight.”
She didn’t press, though I felt her disbelief. Instead, she traced one of the scars on my chest, following the runic pattern carved there. Her touch was gentle, almost reverent. It made something uncomfortable twist in my chest.
“I’ve been thinking,” I said, changing the subject before she could ask more questions I didn’t want to answer. “About that fantasy you never got to share earlier.”
She stilled. “Oh?”
“I’ve found something for us to work on.” I kept my voice casual, though my cock was already showing interest again. Overachiever.
“Such as?”
“Intimacy with an audience.”
Her breath caught. Through our bond, I felt a spike of arousal mixed with embarrassment. Interesting. Very interesting.
“What makes you think I’d be interested in that?” she asked, but her voice had gone husky.
“Call it intuition. Or maybe it’s the way your heart is racing right now.” I pulled her closer. “We’ve had sex all over Skyspire, often with a chance of getting caught. This would just be… more intentional.”
“That’s not quite the same thing.” She buried her face against my chest and quietly laughed.
I pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Sleep now. We’ll discuss the details later.”
“You can’t just drop that on me and expect me to sleep.”
“I can and I do.” I waved a hand, removing the silencing ward. The sounds of the camp filtered back in—distant voices, the crackle of dying fires, the stamp of horses. “You’ll need your strength tomorrow. For the battle and… other things.”
She muttered something that sounded suspiciously like a threat against my manhood, but her breathing was already evening out as she relaxed into sleep.
I lay awake longer, staring into the darkness. The vision of those wings haunted me, a shadow at the edge of my consciousness that I felt like I should recognize but couldn’t quite grasp. My runes burned with warning, but I didn’t know what was coming.
Only that it was.