I carefully caught up my rescued hair and held it away from the evil mail links. I leaned down and whispered in his ear. “Take me, my Warlord.”
That wiped the smile right off his face. “Marcus!” he yelled as he rolled, moving me carefully over and onto the bed. Keir reached up to remove the coif from his head.
“Warlord?” Marcus popped in from the back room, surprise evident in his voice.
Keir had tossed the coif to the floor and was working on his belt. “Come help me get this off.” Marcus raised his eyebrow, then turned to look at me, lying on my side on the bed.
I smiled at him.
A smile started to creep over Marcus’s face. “At once, my Warlord.” He helped Keir remove the heavy chain suit and the padding underneath. Finally, Keir stood there in his black leather pants and his black boots. Keir’s eyes drilled into mine. I met his gaze head on, unafraid.
Marcus was picking up the various articles of armor and clothing that had been flung around. Keir never looked at him. “Thank you, Marcus. Leave us now.”
Marcus bowed himself out, a slight smirk on his face. Keir moved toward the privy enclosure. “Let me clean up…”
“No.” I sat up, my knees on the edge of the bed. “Come here.” He moved forward, standing in front of me. I just looked for a minute, staring into blue eyes. Hesitantly, I put my hands at his waistband. He sucked in a breath at my touch, and I froze, uncertain. His hand covered mine and moved it up his stomach to splay over his chest. I surged up a little, wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him with all the passion I had. He returned it with fervor, and gently lowered me onto the bed.
I tried to pull him down, to bring his body closer to mine, but he resisted. He hovered over me with concern in those bright blue eyes. “The first time, Lara, it’s not always good, it can hurt. I can ask an initiator, someone to teach you—”
I drew in all the air I could. “Only you, Keir. No initiators, no teachers.” I lifted my head, moving my lips over his face and chin. “Please.”
His eyes dilated in a breath, but still he paused. As he had before, he placed his hand over my heart. “ This is not your way, Xylara. Your people’s customs—”
I covered his mouth with my fingers. “There’s no Xy here, no Plains. There’s only you, only me.” Concerned, I pulled my hand back. “Unless you do not want—”
He kissed my fingers, then kissed me, removing my hesitation. Gently, he lowered himself to the bed, pulling me close so that we were on our sides, face to face. His other hand rubbed my hip, warming the skin beneath the cloth. His kisses were slow and stirring, and I returned them with a growing hunger. But a passive role no longer satisfied me. I was curious to know more and I placed my hands on his chest, exploring the expanse of skin and hair. To my delight, I discovered that a stroke of my hand burned his body just as his did mine, if his shivers were any guide. The sparse and curly hair was silky beneath my fingertips. The change in his breathing, the look on his face hinted of the power that lurked within me in the future. But for now, my touch was tentative, tracing faint scars and muscles.
Moving deliberately, he brought his hands under my tunic, and pulled it up and over my head. I flushed and closed my eyes when his hands moved to my breast band. He paused, his fingers resting just under the curves of my breasts. “What’s wrong?” he whispered.
“Nothing.” I breathed shallowly, conscious of his touch. “It’s just that I’m not very… ample.”
Warm blue eyes laughed at me as his hands moved under the cloth, and warmth surged over me as he cupped my breasts. “They’re perfect,” he murmured. I arched up, trying to remember to breathe, as he showed me just how perfect they were.
The breast band, our clothes, and the world disappeared. There was only us, and the smoldering desire between us. Every touch brought new discoveries and feelings such as I’d never known before. How could a puff of warm breath over dampened skin produce such sensations? Why did I tingle all over when Keir ran his fingers through my hair to fan it out over the pillows? How could the smallest kiss behind my ear provoke such passion?
I was floating on a sea of pleasure and contentment, melting onto the bed like gold in a fire. Keir raised his head to look at me. “You’re sure, Lara?”
“So very sure.” I smiled at him.
“Good.” He leaned in and kissed me, making a new and urgent demand with his mouth. I responded, recognizing something new in his caress. If I’d been molten gold before, now I was a storm raging through the mountains. I gasped, writhing in my efforts to touch more of him, to feel more, to know more —
I am a healer, wise in the ways of the flesh. How it moves, how it sickens, even how it dies. I knew of the mating process, had heard of the pleasures it affords, thought I knew its effects. None of that prepared me for the reality.
He moved slowly, carefully, driving me mad with the hunger he built in my soul, only to bring me down again to lay in his arms, trembling and achy. I clutched him to me, and begged for more, and he obliged, his soft laughter floating over us as he began again.
Then finally, finally I had him in my arms and in my body and we both froze, staring at one another.
“Lara, are you well?” His breathing was ragged, and I felt his shoulders tremble under my fingers as he held himself above me. “Did I hurt you?”
“Oh, Keir. My Keir.” I relaxed, warmed by his hesitation and shifted slightly, only to see the passion flare in his face. He kissed me even as he began to move, and there was joy and pleasure and transcendent light exploding within me and around us and through the very essence of our bonded souls.
I awakened to find myself tucked under a loving arm, my head on Keir’s chest. With my eyes closed, I took a deep breath and listened to his heart beat. I felt a deep sense of peace, a sense of belonging. I opened my eyes slightly. From the gleam of the braziers, I knew I had not been asleep long.
Keir’s hand was on his chest. I reached over and covered it with mine. His hand was so warm. I pulled it closer. The nails were cut straight across and trimmed close. I turned it over. There were calluses on the palm and fingers, from years of wielding a sword. I ran my fingers over his palm lightly, teas-ingly. The fingers were long and strong. I smiled and kissed the palm. And then traced the kiss with my tongue.
His fingers flexed quickly, then relaxed. I pulled back a little and blew over the damp spot. I was rewarded with a soft, low moan and followed up with a kiss to his wrist.
Keir chuckled and stroked my head with his other hand. “Was there some potion in your tent that turned the shy kitten into the wildcat?” he murmured.
I moved my head so I could look into his sleepy eyes, soft blue under half-closed lids. “I finally worked up the nerve to ask Joden if you had ever sold a warprize before. That’s when he explained the difference. Explained what a warprize is and means. That’s when he told me I was free. That, that you were…” I stopped. Those half-lidded eyes had opened wide, and blazed diamond bright.
“That I what?” I could feel the tension in his muscles and see the tightness of his jaw.
“That you were asking me to be your mate, your consort.” I dropped my eyes and pulled back. Perhaps Joden had been wrong, perhaps I…
Keir didn’t let me move. He simply held me against him, resisting my attempt to slip away. I looked up. His eyes had narrowed to slits, his face grim and hard. But his voice was soft and quiet when he spoke. “ Lara, what did Xymund tell you before the ceremony?”
I lowered my head to his chest again. His hand soothed my head, separating the strands of hair and letting his fingers run through it. I took a trembling breath and told him what Xymund had said. I explained the meaning of the word ‘slave’, then repeated what Joden had told me was the meaning of warprize. I stopped, out of breath.