Page 26 of Straw and Gold (A Realm of Revelry #2)

“Prepare your list of names tonight.” My husband’s voice startled me and I turned from the small writing desk to watch him finish his shift through our bedroom door.

“Killian!” I shouted, pressing a hand to my chest. “Don’t do that!”

He strode to the desk, crouching to meet my face. “The names, Morella. Have you started a list of potential names?”

“Of course I have, but?—”

“Tomorrow,” he interrupted. “At dawn. We go to the cliff at dawn and you will speak each one across the valley.”

His face was hard—a mask I’d come to recognize. I brushed his cheek. “Did something happen?”

“No.” He rose, backing away from my touch. “Our time is dwindling and we must begin your attempts.”

I nodded, adopting his serious tone and quickly signed the letter, folding and stamping it with the wax seal of the Citrine Cliffs, to be delivered in the morning.

I withdrew the scroll of parchment I’d been using to jot down potential names while studying and unrolled it. “Would you like to see what I have so far?”

“No,” he replied instantly, hanging up his midnight blue jacket and unbuttoning his shirt underneath.

I crossed my legs as his bare chest was revealed and stared unabashedly at his muscled torso. What did he do to keep so fit? How had muscles like that been so sculpted, so defined?

It had been almost three weeks since he’d voluntarily touched me more than our kiss goodnight.

Even with those, he didn’t touch more than necessary, though he took his time.

Each kiss came slow and thoughtful. Each brush of our lips sending us into the quiet night as if it was all he was willing to allow.

He broke my thoughts as he returned to my side, leaning down near my lips. “I’ll kiss you goodnight, Morella.”

He placed his mouth softly on mine, not lingering this time, but inhaling a full breath before he turned away.

I bolted upward from my chair as he left. “Wait! Where are you going?”

He didn’t turn as he continued toward the bathing chamber door. “I’m taking my bath now. You should rest early. I’ll wake you an hour before dawn.”

The door closed behind him and I stood alone in our room, the fire crackling, the beds turned down, my lips still blooming in the ghost of his kiss.

Three weeks.

Three fucking weeks, and I considered if I could stand many more.

My body begged for more of what we had shared that night, and when I was in his presence, it was so much worse.

I’d change each evening to find myself aching for his hands, my belly absolutely churning in discomfort with thoughts of everything we could have had by now.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want me.

Oh, no. I saw it there each morning as he stole glances while I read.

It was there each day he met me in the stairwell, and there on his face as he watched me leave his side with Fedir, his eyes hard and jealous—so blatantly obvious that Fedir often turned to give him a sheepish grin to apologize for something that was Killian’s own damn fault.

A lack of desire was not stopping him.

Before I’d thought through my decision, I was at the bathing room door, knocking softly. His questioning reply was muffled and I lied through my teeth. “I just forgot to tell you something. May I come in?”

Another grumbled reply didn’t fool me in the slightest, and I opened the door softly, meeting a candle-lit chamber, fresh with steam fogging every surface.

His enormous frame draped over the entirety of the tub with his head leaning back against a towel, his eyes closed in the silence. “What is it you’ve forgotten to tell me?”

I studied the way his arms lay still, though his hands pressed tightly to the side of the tub, the raised veins striking. “I…I shifted and flew for nearly an hour today without tiring. And Fedir thinks I’ll reach two hours within the month.”

“Morella,” he started, “you know I receive this information each day, so it is not that you have forgotten to tell me.” His eyes flashed open and he caught me staring. “What is it you really wish to say?”

He had me there.

“I’ve just been thinking…”

He grunted in acknowledgement.

“About what you said that night you kissed me.”

“I’ve kissed you many nights.”

“The night you kissed me elsewhere.”

Silence filled the room and the space between us. Finally, he closed his eyes again, replying with a short, “What of it, Goldling?”

I was not so easily fooled by his calm indifference. I knew I was there, under his skin, and he’d all but admitted it before I learned to bestow my own kiss that night upon him .

I stepped closer, my bare feet padding softly across the wood floor. On bended knees, I lowered myself to the edge of the tub, placing my hand on his arm, waiting for him to open his eyes and see from my face what I was telling him.

Slowly, he lifted his gaze to meet mine and I continued. “You said that night that there was more pleasure to discover.” I slid my fingers down his arm, folding my hand in his. “I am here to learn.”

He squeezed my fingers. “And if I no longer wish to teach you?”

I shook my head in a grin. “Do you think I do not see it?”

His jaw tightened and he took his hand away.

I continued anyway, pulling at the tie around my waist. “Do you think you hide your desire from me, husband?” I slid the soft silk off my shoulders, revealing the same crimson nightgown draped across my body.

“Do you believe your feigned indifference fools me?” I traced the side of his face.

“It’s these eyes, Killian. I see the fire in them when you look at me.

When you watch me. When you dream of tasting me again.

When you touch yourself imagining my lips replacing your hand. ”

He caught my fingers, staring hard, that fire lighting once again. He searched my face and I refused to falter—ensuring he saw exactly what I needed him to see. “Get in,” he finally grumbled.

I moved swiftly, eager to prove I was right and this wasn’t all in my head. I slipped out of my nightgown and stepped into the water, lowering myself slowly in the piercing heat. The tub was enormous but between his frame and my wings, little room was left to spare.

“Turn around,” he ordered. “Put your back to me. Right here,” he patted his chest and Goddessdamn me, I wanted to press myself to it.

But I did as he said, relaxing my shoulders before his hands grabbed my waist and he slid me closer, pressing me against his hard length and settling me between his legs. “Lean back.”

I adjusted my wings, folding them around my arms to lay flush against his chest. His hands lifted to my shoulders, pushing into my stiff muscles and driving a moan from my lips at the sweet release of tension.

“Let’s begin, Moh Dhóches.” His hands drew lower across my chest, over my peaked nipples and down my belly. “Did you find release when you lay with Brekkan Dioltry?”

“It was almost ten years ago,” I began, then inhaled sharply as his fingers reached my inner thighs.

“I didn’t ask how long ago. I asked if his cock made you cum.”

I bit the inside of my lip before answering. “No.”

“And since then, have you found pleasure here?” A finger dipped inside of me, slowly and smoothly.

“Not…not really.” It was true, even then with my gorgeous husband’s cock pressing into my back and hand smoothing over my clit, I felt no change in pleasure with his finger inside me.

“I’d like to try something, Morella, if you trust me.”

He withdrew his finger, returning to circle around my clit.

“I trust you,” I whispered.

“If you find it uncomfortable?—”

“I’ll tell you to stop,” I finished. “I understand.”

“It is a shame,” he continued, sliding his finger inside me again, “that you did not experience a more talented first lover, Goldling. I shudder to think of the pleasure you’ve missed.”

His finger curved, tapping inside of me and I jerked, a thin thread of something new shifting through my body. “What—” I shifted slightly, leaning back further and pulling my legs closer to my chest. “How did you…?”

Instead of an answer, he slid another finger inside, curving them, tapping that same spot. Again, a surge of something I’d never felt raced through me and I gasped.

“There it is,” he whispered, sliding his other hand across the peak of my breasts.

“There what is?” I asked, squirming, adjusting, my body needing to feel that again.

“That place our dear Brekkan never found.”

I laughed. “You bring him up so often—is that jealousy I hear?”

His fingers began to pulse, tap, tap, tapping and I moaned, gripping the side of the tub, pulling one leg up further to my chest.

“Yes,” he admitted as his hand left my breasts, instead cupping under my chin and forcing my head back where he covered my mouth with his own.

Tap, tap, tap —his fingers were relentless, having found the one place inside of me I didn’t even know existed.

It was like being woken after a thousand years to something I was meant to know—to experience, to beg for and I did.

Of course I did, sweeping my lips from his if only to call his name as my body tensed, and I was flushed with bright fire in my veins, ignited from his touch.

“ Killian ,” I moaned, my breath heavy, “I don’t know—what do I?—”

His fingers were a torment, pressing over and over and over inside me, cupping all of me without hesitation, without a moment to process where he was bringing my body—to a place I’d never been and didn’t know how to be.

“Don’t hold back,” he gritted, picking up his pace in response to how my body stretched, my legs now spread so wide they ached.

“You’re going to let me take you through all of this to the end.

Look at you.” His hand lifted my chin again, forcing my head back against his chest. “You’re taking my fingers so well, Moh Dhóches. ”

Faster now, I squirmed and moaned and cried out, my body pulsing in his rhythmic tapping, stronger, harder—and I felt my body tighten, my hand digging into his arm as a final cry escaped my throat.

Before it fully left my lungs, his hand was over my mouth, muffling the sound as my body pulsed, rocking to the rhythm of his fingers still there, slowing and bringing me back down from where he’d taken me. As I whimpered, he withdrew his hand, wrapping an arm around my belly.

My legs shook, my mind swirled—lightheaded and blurry. I blinked over and over, confused and trembling. He turned me in his arms and I tried to focus on his face.

“Morella,” he whispered, taking my head in his hands. “Morella, are you hurt?”

I shook my head, suddenly overcome with emotion.

I didn’t cry often, but felt the overwhelming urge to do so now, even if I couldn’t understand why. My chin trembled and my eyes swelled with tears.

“Moh Dhóches…” He wiped the first tear as it fell down my cheek. I swallowed hard, heavy with the realization that I’d never known this pleasure, and now, I’d only known it with him.

He kissed my forehead, laying my head on his chest as I shivered, my legs shaking with residual pulsating pleasure.

“I didn’t know.” I sniffed, wiping my nose. “I didn’t know it could…it could be like that.”

“Did…did you enjoy?—”

“Yes!” I trembled, lifting my head. “It was…different from what I’ve explored before. You must think I’m so naive.”

He stroked the top of my head. “Naivety is not always such a terrible thing. In this case, there is nothing wrong with it. You didn’t know and asked me to show you. Now you know and can…experiment yourself.”

“Oh, I plan to,” I laughed, feeling his chuckle rumble underneath me still draped across his chest.

“We should get some rest.” Wrapping his arm around my back, he rose, folding a towel around my body as he helped me from the bath. He followed next patting himself dry, still hard as ever.

“Do you want me to—” I started.

Picking up on my implication, he frowned. “Rest, Morella. We both need rest.”

I nodded, lifting my nightgown from the floor and stepping into the soft silk. He followed me out the door, donning his same white linen pants that left nothing to my imagination.

I climbed into bed, utterly exhausted, sated, and dreamy, knowing I’d drift as soon as my eyes closed on my pillow.

“Goodnight,” he whispered, landing a kiss on my forehead.

Emboldened by how softly he’d held me, I reached out for his forearm, rising to my knees. “Stay?” I whispered back.

“Morella,” he began, placing his hand over mine, “this is your bed and that is?—”

“I know,” I interrupted. “I know this is my bed and that is yours, but just…just until I fall asleep, will you stay with me?” I shifted my hand to his. “Please, Killian?”

His eyes roamed over my bed of tousled sheets and an array of pillows. He reached down, pulling a small, golden-tipped feather from the sea of white. He twisted the shaft for a moment between his fingers before deciding. “Alright. Just this once.”

I bit my lower lip in excitement and triumph as he gently lay my fallen feather on the side table. I hurried to the other side of my bed, pushing away the sheets and holding them up to finally welcome my husband next to me.

He slipped inside and I curled up instantly, the ease of his warmth and familiar scent of fresh grass flooding my senses in a serene relaxation I’d never known. I buried my head into his shoulder and neck, placing a simple kiss there before sighing and closing my eyes.

My mind began to fall, but I held on so tightly, just as he held onto me, his breathing steady and deep. I wondered when he’d leave. I wondered when he’d decide that was enough of me and return to his own bed to sleep alone—where he’d slept alone all the nights of our marriage.

I didn’t want him to go, nor did I want to fall asleep knowing that when I woke, he’d be gone again, and back to his usual coldness to every part of me I’d been offering him since our wedding vows.

Before too long, I couldn’t hold on. I couldn’t stay awake with him as hard as I tried.

His voice came soft in my hair, muffled as I drifted away to a place of deep rest. “Moh Dhóches,” he whispered in the dark. “…Moh Geràdah.”

My fate…My love.