by Jaci Burton
'Twas unfortunate the liquor did not quell the ache in his balls. Instead, it only served to fire up his libido, making him want to go in search of the woman who haunted his dreams.
And that he refused to do. He left the pub, determined to avoid the bathing area. Yet before he knew it, he found himself exactly where he swore he wouldn't go.
The room was quiet and dark. Perhaps Solara had already left.
He shouldn't be in there, he reminded himself as he entered the small chamber. Warm, humid air greeted his entrance, yet he heard no sounds. He should be happy she wasn't there. Running into Solara here could only lead to trouble. And with every day that passed, he found it more and more difficult to avoid his desires.
The bathing chamber was little more than a small room at the end of an enclosed wooden building. The walls had been put up to afford privacy, yet many times entire families bathed together.
This summer had been so intensely warm, most had taken to bathing in the outdoor chamber, but he did not figure Solara would want to be outside. Yet she wasn't in the enclosed room, so he took a chance and walked through the doorway leading to the open bath.
He blinked once, then twice, certain the vision before him was due to too much mead and not enough food at the evening meal. Solara sat in the round wooden tub, the full moon's rays shooting down and surrounding her in an ethereal, silvery light. She was alone, completely secluded by the tall, stone enclosure that kept the eyes of the villagers away, but allowed the bath to be open to the stars above.
Her body appeared gossamer as she stood, her back turned to him. Rivulets of water streamed down her back, her wings folded inside her, affording him a glimpse of her perfectly formed body.
Had he ever seen her completely nude? No, he'd been close to her, had touched her, yet he'd never had the opportunity to view her body from afar.
Roarke forgot to breathe. Slender shoulders led to a waist that dipped in nicely, reminding him of the feel of his hands spanning her slender form. Her full, lush hips and rounded buttocks were made for a man's hands. Shapely thighs led to very long legs. Legs he wanted wrapped tight around him.
His cock rose and strained against his breeches. How simple it would be to strip, slide into the tub with her and quench his lust within her hot pussy. He wanted it, she wanted it, yet his damned honor and allegiance to Garick prevented him from taking what was so willingly offered.
For the millionth time, he reminded himself that Solara belonged to another man. And that kind of vow he could not breach.
She bent over to retrieve a cloth from the water, and he sucked in a breath at the sight of her pussy so clearly outlined between her buttocks. An urge to bury his lips between her legs and lick the creamy juices from her cunt had his knees quaking. He let out a sigh borne of the frustration of the past week.
This was more than one man should have to bear.
Solara must have heard him, because she turned, holding the long cloth against her body. Her eyes widened as she caught sight of him leaning against the doorway.
Now would be a good time for him to leave. He'd gotten what he came for. He had seen her. And yet something compelled him to stay. Perhaps Solara's lack of protest, perhaps his own weakness where she was concerned.
Her lips curved into a sensual smile as she took the cloth and dipped it into the water. She raised it high and squeezed it over her breasts so that the water ran down over her belly and between her legs.
Droplets fell from the thatch of hair on her sex.
Nipples that glowed a silvery rose in the moonlight hardened to sharp points. She rubbed the cloth over first one breast, then the other, caressing her body the way he wanted to. Her tongue snaked out and ran over her bottom lip before slipping back inside her mouth.
And still, her gaze remained fixed on him.
Like a seductive dance, she touched herself the way a lover would touch her, lightly tracing the swell of her breasts before teasing the upthrusting nipples with her fingers. She rolled the buds in between her thumb and forefinger, her mouth opening as a gasp of pleasure escaped.
Roarke opened his mouth too, licking his lips like a man thirsting for drink. The drink he was desperate for stood before him, drenched in bath water and weaving a torturous spell over him.
When her hands moved from her breasts to her sex, petting the curls at the juncture of her thighs, he let out a groan.
"Touch yourself, Roarke," she whispered, her voice husky and thick as the night surrounding them. She dipped her fingers alongside her inner thighs, hovering near her clit. "I will not ask you to come near me, nor to touch me, but I wish to see your release."
He should walk away, now, before he lost control completely. Yet her bold request compelled him, and he could not move his feet.
No, he would not touch her, would not have her in the way he wanted to, but he would obtain the release he so desperately needed. He moved his hand down and palmed his erection.
Solara arched a brow and fixed her gaze on his breeches. Knowing she watched made him harder, his balls tightening high against his body. He caressed his cock, loving the way she licked her lips, knowing by the flushing of her body that she was as aroused as he, and wishing to all the magical gods in the universe that their destinies were entwined.
But wishing would not make it so. This brief interlude with Solara would have to be enough to sustain him.
"Let me see your cock," she said, her voice shaky, her fingers disappearing into the nest of curls between her legs. He pushed away from the wall and approached her, wanting her to see, needing to see her, knowing he had to be closer as he watched her pleasure herself.
She let out a low whimper and spread her legs wider, affording him a glimpse of her distended clit. The lips of her pussy were swollen. Stopping at the edge of the tub, he squeezed his shaft, rewarded with her gasp. Mere inches separated them. Her panting breath sailed across his cheek. He had only to reach out and he would be able to caress her skin, take her mouth, brand her as his.
But he didn't.
Not taking his eyes off her questing fingers, he unlaced his breeches and took out his cock, slowly stroking it from base to tip. She watched the movements of his hand, her own keeping time to the rhythm he set.
When she dipped one slender finger into her swollen cunt, his breath caught and held. The sheer erotic pleasure of watching her touch herself nearly caused him to spill his seed. But he held back, wanting to let go at the exact moment she reached the pinnacle.
"Your cock is strong. Long, thick, pulsing with life. It was so big I could barely fit it into my mouth the first time. Do you remember that first time we touched, Roarke?" How could he forget anything about this faerie? She was everything he had ever wanted in a mate.
"Yes."
"Your tongue is soft and warm. I've never come as hard as I did when you licked me. Now, at night when I'm lying in my bed, I touch myself, visions of your tongue licking my pussy driving me to climax over and over again."
A groan escaped his lips before he could hold it back. His grip on his shaft tightened and he thrust it through his hand until just the tip appeared above his enclosed fist. A drop of pre-come spilled from the head, and he moved to swipe it off, reaching his hand out toward Solara.
As he knew she would, she leaned over and licked the fluid off his finger. His cock jerked and throbbed, his balls tight.
Foolish to get so close to her, yet Roarke could not stop himself. He inhaled and caught her sweet scent, a mixture of roses and the heady musk of aroused female.
"What do you dream of at night, Roarke? Do you think about me? In your mind, do you see me naked like this, touching myself like this?"
Yes, he dreamed this, and so much more. "I dream of taking you, making you mine, entering you and taking your virginity so that no other man can ever have you." Her eyes blazed hot, her panting increased as she slipped two fingers inside her pussy. Clearly outlined in the well-lit night, her juices glistened on her fingers when she
withdrew.
"Taste me, Roarke. Taste my need for you."
She held out her hand. Without hesitation, he took her fingers in his mouth, sucking the nectar from them.
The taste of her desire flamed his senses. He licked at her fingers as if he had her pussy in his mouth, all the while thrusting his hips forward to propel his cock through his enclosed hand.
"Yes," she whispered. "Lick my fingers like you want to lick my cunt. Taste me, take me with you, Roarke. Make me come so hard I scream."
He wanted all that, and more. While arousing to the point of insanity, this play wasn't nearly enough to satisfy him. Yet with every passing second the head of his cock swelled, his balls trembled, and he knew it would not be long.
"Come for me, Solara. Imagine your fingers are my cock. Show me how you want me to fuck you." He shifted back to allow himself a clear view of her driving fingers, this time setting his rhythm to hers.
She tilted her head back and closed her eyes, with one hand teasing her clit and the other fucking herself faster and harder. Whimpers and soft mewls escaped her parted lips as she increased the tempo.
Finally, she opened her eyes and met his gaze, and he knew it was time. He let go a torrent of come that splashed across her belly at the same time she stiffened.. Her keening wail filled the night air as she trembled and held her fingers still inside her pussy.
Afterward, their gasps were the only sound that could be heard. Roarke slipped his softening cock into his breeches, then sat on the edge of the tub next to Solara. She removed her fingers and slipped into the water up to her breasts.
Roarke took the floating cloth and moistened it, wiping the fine sheen of sweat from Solara's face and neck. She smiled wistfully at him, and he knew her thoughts mirrored his own.
What they had together was amazing, miraculous, like nothing he'd ever experienced before.
They were fated, meant to be together, and yet were still held apart by his sense of duty and the requirement she honor her betrothal.
This time, he could not walk away from her. Nor could he tell her all that was in his heart. He had already revealed too much.
"I will be leaving soon," she murmured, staring off into the distance.
"Aye. In less than a week, Garick will return and then you will be escorted to Greenbriar."
"I should have gone before. I should not have run off." She was right, and he knew that. Yet he could not tell her that he was glad she hadn't, that despite the fact he could never have her as he wanted to, he wouldn't trade the few days they'd had together for anything.
"All things happen for a reason, or so your sister tells me." A soft smile graced her coral lips. "She tells me that, too." So much was left unsaid between them, but Roarke could not utter the words he wanted to. Instead, he knew he had to continue to put distance between himself and Solara.
"Tomorrow I will ride off on patrol."
Her gaze met his. "I thought you were to stay within Winterland."
"I will be. I will patrol the outer boundaries. It is common for the guard to do so."
"Common for the guard to do so, but not common for you?"
"It is good for me to go with the men."
"How long will you be outside the gates?"
"Three days."
"I see. You do so to avoid me. It is unnecessary. You need only say the word and I would keep my distance."
He knew this would hurt her, yet also knew it was necessary. The more she hated him, the easier her new life would be.
"I do what I must. Not everything has to do with you, Solara." Her eyes moistened and she turned away, refusing his offered hand as she climbed out of the tub and reached for her shift, tossing it over her head.
After she was dressed she stood in front of him, anger and pain blazing in her eyes. "Some day, Roarke, you will realize that your honor and your duty aren't enough to sustain you. When that day comes, remember what you could have had, because it will be long gone by then." She turned and walked away, her long, scarlet hair streaming in wet strands down her back.
Roarke stayed seated, watching Solara's departure until she disappeared from sight. He stayed long after the door of the chamber closed with a resounding slam.
He didn't have to wait for someday to know what he could have had. Every moment of every day reminded him that he loved a woman who could never be his.
Chapter Eleven
Roarke led the guards around the base of the castle, inspecting for any weaknesses in the structure. The gray stone wall was solid, and he already knew it.
The ride and guard duty were his way of escaping Solara.
After last night, and the episodes before, he knew he was weakening where she was concerned. That he could not allow. Better to keep his distance, put the wall of the castle between them, until she left.
With every day that passed he grew closer and closer to throwing away all that he believed in. He'd actually contemplated risking banishment or even death. His desire for Solara had become more important than his honor, his vows, his duty to his king.
Keeping his mind and body occupied with tasks such as assessing the castle's strengths and weaknesses was the best thing for both he and Solara.
After all, what would happen to her if he compromised her? She would be shamed, banished, would lose her right to become a queen.
Nay, he would not do that to her. His inner will was strong; he had always been able to rein in his baser impulses. He could do so now.
Today, he would concentrate on his duties.
Clearing his mind, his senses told him something was amiss. A sense of urgency had his muscles tensing, his hand reaching for the hilt of his sword.
Something was happening, and he needed to be on guard for any possibility. With their garrison half depleted due to Garick's sojourn to Greenbriar, he and the remaining men would be the only defense should something occur.
He inhaled, scenting a foul, wicked wind shift. Gazing toward the thick forest, his spine tingled with a sense of foreboding that he could not quell.
That sense had been bombarding him for days, but he'd not recognized it because his mind, his magic, his entire being had been consumed with Solara.
"Keep your eyes open. We are not alone," he whispered to the guards behind him, who in turn passed the message along to the others. Gazing upward at the crenellations of the tower, he motioned to one of the guard. "Head back inside the castle and warn the rest to stand ready at the battlements for possible attack. Move all the people into the keep. Alert the interior guard to man their posts, weapons ready.
Make sure no one wanders outside. Have the gate closed behind you as soon as you enter." The guard nodded and turned his horse toward the drawbridge, quickly riding inside. The gate was pulled up soon after.
Turning his attention back to the trees, Roarke directed half the men to ride out to the edge of the forest with him. The other half were instructed to stay along the castle boundaries in case of attack from the cliffs.
The wizards had been quiet of late, which meant they must have been plotting an attack. Now that the elvin community had become wise to the wizards' magic, whisking away one of their own in the dead of night was no longer possible. If they were going to attack, they'd have to do it physically, head on, by storming the castle.
Knowing this, Winterland was well prepared for what may come. But Roarke would still feel more confident once Garick returned with the other half of the garrison. Having the castle weak in guards made them vulnerable, and that he did not like.
They patrolled the perimeter of the forest, Roarke keeping a keen eye out for anything that moved or made a sound.
The pounding hooves of horses turned his attention to a dust cloud in the distance ahead. He'd been prepared for an attack from the cliffs or the eastern forest, but not one from directly in front of them.
Calling out to his guard, they raced to the front of the castle, forming a line with the rest of the garrison.
Orders were s
houted to the battlements above them, and men could be seen within the crenellations, bows and arrows made ready.
Everything was in place. Roarke could only pray that everyone inside was as well. As the approaching horses drew near, he could tell they were badly outnumbered.
This attack could end up being a massacre. He feared nothing for his own life, but worried for the people of Winterland. If the garrison were killed, they would have minimal protection inside the walls.
Roarke called forth his magic, telepathically merging with Garick and urging him to hasten his return to Winterland.
Then, because this might be the last time he could do so, he searched and found Solara's thoughts.
Raising his sword in the air, he sent her a goodbye.
*
The needlepoint dropped from her lap and Solara let out a gasp. "Nay! Do not say goodbye to me!" Noele looked up at her. "What is wrong?" "It is Roarke. I must go."
She stood, desperate to run into her bedchambers and peer out the castle windows, but Noele's hand on her wrist stopped her. "Nay, you cannot go there."
"Roarke is in danger!" she cried. "I felt him. He reached out to me to tell me there was an attack." Noele nodded, the expression on her worried face telling her that she knew already. "Aye, I felt it, too.
But putting yourself in danger is not what he wants, Solara. Not right now. You need to bring your magic forth--we all do," she said, looking to Elisa and Mina. "Roarke needs our help now." Calm down. Force the panic aside. Noele is right. Roarke needs your magic right now, not your fear.
She nodded, closed her eyes and took several deep breaths. It began to build within her, gaining strength, filling her with power. Once gathered, she sent every bit of magic she possessed to Roarke.
Their connection was instantaneous. So much that she traveled along with her magic. She merged with Roarke and found herself outside the gates. They were one now, as if she physically lived inside Roarke's body. She saw what he saw, felt what he felt, knew the same sense of hopelessness that he experienced. The battle was fierce and intensifying by the moment. They were outnumbered. They were going to die.