Chapter 14 #4

which was much better than an irate punch. “You two will have some

time to work it out,” he said, and then he narrowed his gaze on

Aleksi. “There will be no more chances at making babies. Do we

understand each other?”

“We do.” Aleksi was alive and in one piece,

and he intended to stay that way, which should not prove to be too

difficult. There was little chance of Sahar taking him into her bed

as things stood between them now.

Aleksi woke in the dark before dawn, reaching

his arm out for the soft, familiar warmth of Sahar and finding only

hard ground. He pushed his cold, kinked body up to sitting and

gazed over the sleeping figure of the king, whose bedroll was

planted firmly between Aleksi’s and Sahar’s to see her still

sleeping, peaceful and safe. He ran a hand through his hair,

scratching his scalp, and then rubbed his face and arms to bring

some blood and heat into them. He stood and walked over to a copse

of bushes to relieve himself, and met Brawn coming back on the

way.

The captain of the king’s guard moved with a

coiled, sinewy purpose that put Aleksi in mind of a snake waiting

to strike, and Aleksi had the impression that Brawn would be as

quick and deadly. He recalled Sahar’s warning about her uncle Brawn

being the man he should watch out for, and though Aleksi stood a

head taller and outweighed Brawn by two stone at least, the last

thing he wanted to do was take him on. From what Aleksi had

observed, the man watched everything and missed nothing, and when

he spoke, his words were terse and to the point, traits Aleksi

admired. He dipped his head in greeting. “‘Morning,” he said.

Brawn stopped and sized up Aleksi.

“‘Morning,” Brawn replied. “Thanks for bringing back Sahar, and for

wounding the Wolf.” He grinned, cold and deadly. “It’ll be my honor

to finish the cur.”

Aleksi avoided Sahar throughout the day’s

journey and into the night, and the next, chancing no more than a

few furtive glances her way when no one else was looking, or

speaking a few hasty words to her in passing each time they made or

broke camp. With her father or one of the guards always nearby and

watching closely, Aleksi didn’t dare do more, and she didn’t seem

inclined to want more. In truth, she acted warier of him than ever,

and looked ready to jump out of her skin the night they camped at

the same spot by the river where she had first stood proud and

naked before him. Where they had embraced skin to skin and kissed

with a hunger and a passion that had been only a taste of the

carnal feast to come. A feast Aleksi hungered to partake of

again.

He sat across the fire from her and tore off

a strip of stringy jerky and chewed, all the while his mouth

watering for the honeyed taste of her tender flesh. He could still

see her standing in the river, her long, lithe limbs glistening

under the morning sun, the curve of her breasts and hips calling to

everything male in him. The challenge in her eyes, unabashed and

unafraid. By the gods, she was still calling to him, and his cursed

cock, aching for the wet, caressing heat of her, was answering.

He stood and turned his back to the fire and

everyone sitting around it and headed for the stream, which was a

mistake. Tactile memories of standing knee deep in the water chest

to breast with her washed over him, heating his blood and forging

his hard cock into tempered steel. He groaned and shook his head

and shoulders, pawing at the shoreline as he debated whether to

walk into the river fully clothed or fall face first into the

freezing water.

Behind him a quiet rustling of fallen leaves

told of someone approaching, someone who moved with the stealthy

grace of a cat.

“Go back, Sahar,” he said, turning sideways

so the tent pole in his breeches was visible to her. “Go back to

your father.”

“No.”

He turned and faced her. “What do you want?”

He imbued the words with all the bitterness he had felt, and though

she flinched at his vitriol, she stood her ground. He splayed his

hands and gentled his voice, his cock pointing straight at the only

woman he wanted with every fiber of his being. “What is it you want

of me?”

She didn’t answer him, not with words, but

her expression told him exactly what she wanted. He closed the

distance between them and took her mouth with his, backing her up

against a tree without breaking stride or their kiss. He ran his

hands up under her tunic, cupping her heavy breasts and thumbing

her peaked nipples as he plundered her mouth with his tongue. She

slid her hands from his shoulders to the front of his breeches,

deftly untying his stays and freeing his straining cock as she

nipped at his demanding lips.

He untied her breeches and cupped her mound.

He slid a finger around her folds, dipping in and out of her hot,

wet center, spreading her sweet nectar and rubbing the bud that

would bring her to climax as she brought him to his with the

rhythmic strokes of her strong, capable hands.

He caught her cry of release with his kiss,

as she did his, and when it was over, almost as soon as it’d

started, they each tied the other’s breeches, still catching their

breath and neither saying a word, even when she turned and walked

away.

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