Page 11 of The Thief’s Lord (Catkin Trilogy #3)

Dorset

R eturning to the Baywaters manor felt worse than I thought it would. I chastised myself. What were you thinking, Dorset? That the gods and the rest of Sumarene would let you hide in a forest with Lord Gareth?

Gareth was, everyone knew, the right hand of King Landis.

During the wars, it was said that the quiet, mysterious lord of the grand Baywaters estates had whisked away the prince before any of his siblings’ assassins could reach them.

Ser Hugh, Lord Berrymay, and Lord Elthorne were important voices in the king’s chamber, but Lord Gareth Wright was his most deadliest catkin.

Whenever Mourn or Shade mentioned Lord Gareth, their voices held a tinge of awe mixed with unease.

They hated the aristocratic tom, but on a certain level, they also respected Lord Gareth.

I was beginning to understand why. Gareth had nerves of steel and an incorruptible spirit.

His loyalty to the king overruled even his heart.

I could scent his desire for me. On many nights, he would come and shackle me to my cot.

I would pretend to sleep, but instead, I counted how long he would stand there before carefully easing aside the blankets and snapping the cuff shut.

Even so, Gareth never attempted to take me with force, nor did he abuse his position.

Instead, he had opened himself up to me on some level.

Just thinking about it, alone in the room he had set aside for me, I couldn’t help but shiver.

Sitting in the window seat, catching the sparse rays of spring sun filtering through ragged gray clouds, I tilted my head up and savored the warmth.

As a half-Munni, I enjoyed the sun’s rays as much as I did the moon’s light.

Of course, being more Munni than Sunna, I preferred to sleep in, and I loved hunting at night.

While living at the cabin, Gareth had allowed me to go hunting with him at dusk, and he’d taken care not to wake me with a loud voice in the morning.

Munni lovers , I reminded myself. He’s had Munni lovers. You’re just one in a long line of—

Thinking about all of the other lovers Gareth had lain with had my tail fluffing.

I growled to myself and buried my head in my arms. The last thing I needed was to show weakness in front of Gareth.

Gareth could rule his affections and desire.

So could I. At the same time, a traitorous half of me wished that Gareth would give in.

Perhaps I would then find the courage to make the leap.

The door opened, drawing me out of my dark thoughts. At the sight of Gareth attended by two servants carrying lunch trays, I tensed a little.

“Lunch,” Gareth said. “I’ve been given a respite from my estate manager.”

“How kind of him,” I drawled, forcing myself to stand and then saunter forward as though I did not have a care in the world. As though I hadn’t been daydreaming about the feel of his roughened hands on my ankle, the warm swirl of his tongue against mine.

Dammit.

Once we were seated and working on the hearty luncheon prepared for us, I was able to take a look at Gareth.

We’d arrived back at the estate the day before.

According to Gareth, the plan was for us to travel to the capital soon.

Just the thought of returning to Rimefrost had my skin crawling.

Mourn and Shade, if they hadn’t sent others to seek me out, would surely find me there.

Surely Gareth know s, I mused. Perhaps I’m nothing more than bait . I hated the thought, but if I was in Gareth’s shoes, that was the road I would walk.

“So when are we leaving?” I asked again.

“Soon,” Gareth said.

“Can’t wait to get me out of here?”

“Hm.”

“Perhaps you are having second thoughts?”

“And if I was?” asked Gareth. His dark gaze landed on me, lighting sparks of heated desire within my belly. “Unfortunately, even though I have my worries, I have little choice.”

“You could let me—“

“Let you go to your death?” Gareth arched an eyebrow. “No. I think not, Little Mouse.”

“Dorset,” I seethed, refusing to acknowledge that the sound of the nickname calmed me a little.

“Dorset.”

I blushed as he said his name—and then felt like an absolute fool.

How could I tender feelings for a captor who was about to drag me to my doom?

Pushing myself to my feet, I strode across the narrow room to the window by my bed.

I peered out, pretending to ignore the tom who watched me stomp off.

I wished he would go away. I wished he would let me go.

I wished he would stay. I wished he would beg me to remain with him forever.

“Dorset.”

Just the sound of my name on his lips had me shuddering.

He stood behind me now. His hand descended on my shoulders, tugging on me.

I wrenched away, pushed at him, and glared at him.

Heat flushed my face. Even as I half-wrestled him, I could feel something stirring deep within me.

Something I had thought dead. Something I had never expected to blossom.

“Leave me alone, Gareth,” I growled.

Gareth trapped my hands, pulled my wrists over my head, and pinned me against the wall.

I arched against him, only half-fighting for freedom.

The weight of his body upon mine only served to light whatever smoldering flame I had nursed earlier into a blaze of passion.

Meryn. Save me. I ached all over. A sob of desperation escaped me.

Instantly, my wrists were released. I was free… and I did nothing.

For a second, we stood there. Gareth’s arms, on either side of my shoulders, cradled me as he pushed himself back.

I could sense him examining me closely, but I turned my head away, half-hiding my face beneath one arm.

Even as he pulled away, the realization hit me further.

He had trapped me, and he had freed me at the same time.

I was pursued. I was wanted… but I was also my own self. Free.

Gareth had captured me, but in his own way, he had expanded my horizons in ways I could scarcely fathom.

The realization hit me hard—and with it came passion.

My scent bloomed. I could see it reflected in the darkening of Gareth’s eyes, the growl that emanated from him, the fluffing of the hair on his ears, and the hard length of arousal pressed against my thigh.

In response, his scent blossomed along mine.

I was taken back to the marshes by the Sea of Merce—ocean spray and burnt driftwood with a hint of lavender.

With a whimper, I turned to him. I could not find the words. I could only beg with my eyes. Please. Gareth. Make this right.

The mirrored flicker of desire in Gareth’s eye gave me hope.

His long fingers entwined in my hair, pulling my head back and giving him access to my neck.

After kissing a slow, teasing trail up to my jaw, Gareth’s lips descended on mine.

He trapped me and brutalized me with a kiss I could scarcely breathe through.

The taste of him on my lips and tongue. The gentle nip of his teeth.

The plundering tongue that drew out from me bliss from a well of passion I never knew I had.

I groaned and arched away from the wall, rutting against him as though I were a kit straight out of heat.

My fingers tangled in his jacket, dragging him down.

I did not wish him to remember who he was, who I was.

Or rather, I hoped he wouldn’t have second thoughts and leave.

For some reason though, the kiss extended to longer, slower kisses.

Softer kisses. Touches that ghosted at the edges of my shirt and then moved upwards, tracing teasing paths along my skin.

Then his hands disappeared. Gareth eased back. I clung to him.

“Gareth-”

I gasped out a half-sob. An unspoken plea.

My eyes clenched shut, tears beading at the edges.

Gods, please. Meryn. Give me this. If I am a dead tom, at least allow me to pass with one untainted memory with one who I…

I could not say the word, but my wish remained fervent.

My life was shite, but perhaps this moment could be something special.

“I’m here, Little Mouse.” His breath ghosted over my ear, and he kissed me gently on the brow. “If you want this-”

“I want it.” I buried my head in his shoulder and mumbled, “Gods. I want this.”

“Alright, but… we’ll need to get to the bed. And you’ll need to lose your shirt and breeches.” Gareth’s voice sounded rather amused. “I’m sure there are some oils around here somewhere.”

At first, I refused to respond, but Gareth hefted me up and moved me toward the bed.

When we got closer, I allowed us to separate a little.

Gareth’s dark brown eyes glowed with lust, as though lit from within.

They devoured me, envisioning me already naked.

I shivered. My tail fluffed out and began to quiver.

Gareth’s fingers began to unbutton his shirt.

I instantly helped him shrug out of his jacket, waistcoat, and white cotton shirt.

Following his lead, I hastily stripped and rushed to the privy to prepare myself, while Gareth withdrew some oils from the guest’s cabinet by the bed.

When I returned, Gareth was on the bed, propped up on his side, elbow sunk into one of the many pillows strewn at the head of the bed.

A glass bottle glittered within his long broad fingers.

I lingered by the edge of the bed, suddenly feeling rather shy.

A blush began to creep over my shoulders and cheeks as I took in the size of him—the broad chest muscles, the muscled belly, the teasing line of hair that drifted down.

.. Those I had seen before, but now I could see the rest of him.

A hymn to Solas , I thought. The golden child of the Sunna.

He was all tan and muscle. On his thigh, his large cock rested, half-erect.

Suddenly, I felt too small, too bony, too white.

Gods. The freckles that sprinkled across my shoulders and nose.

Before I could even turn away, Gareth rose before me, pulling me forward onto the bed.

He threw me down roughly, enjoying my squeal of surprise and delight.

The way he took control helped to distract me and calm my spirits. I bit my lip as I stared up at him.

“You’re so… beautiful,” he said hoarsely, now halfway to becoming undone.

Those words ran like lightning through my body, sparking me to life. As his hands and lips caressed me, as his eyes worshiped me, I lost myself. Against all odds, Dorset, little Munni mouse of the shadows, had caught the eyes of the very sun itself. I could not turn away.