by Ruby Dixon
I thought before tonight that I wanted to be left alone. Now I know that's not the truth—I want Aron to touch me. I want him to give in to this crazy attraction that we've been fighting. I'm ready for it. I'm ready for more of his touch. I've wanted him for what seems like forever. I don't care that he's a god, or that he's arrogance personified. He's Aron and my traveling companion, friend, and protector. I want the guy.
Powerfully.
"Fine," I tell him when he says nothing. I move to the bed and toss aside the wide belt that cinches my dress closed. It gapes open and I undo the one small tie holding it together, and then shuck it, too. I'm completely naked in front of him, and while we've bathed in front of each other several times, it feels different tonight. Tonight, my breasts are tight with need, my nipples aching from his caresses. Tonight, my pussy's flooded with wetness, and he's going to ignore all of that.
And it's killing me.
His hard gaze sweeps over my body, and he arches an eyebrow at my nudity, as if quietly asking if this is some sort of ploy. It's not, though. It's more like a “fuck you.”
I shake my head and get into bed, pulling the covers up to my chin and turning my back to him.
"You wear no nightclothes," he points out, and the bed sinks with his weight behind me.
"Yeah, well, they didn't give me any," I tell him. "So just keep your hands to yourself while I sleep if it bugs you." Normally he puts his hands on my waist and holds me against him as I sleep, and I'm desperately hoping he'll do it anyhow. If he's so immune to everything my nudity shouldn't matter, should it?
"You're angry," he says, and I can't tell if it's a statement or a question.
I thump the pillow and stare at the wall, even though his presence is looming behind me, larger than life. There's a knot in my throat that I can't quite shake, and I swallow a few times before I give up and speak anyhow. "You didn't have to kiss me like it meant something," I whisper.
"No one said it did not mean anything."
I turn around and sit up to look at him. The blankets fall to my waist, and I'm rather viciously pleased to see that his gaze flicks to my naked breasts before going back to my face. His arms are crossed over his massive chest, and the expression on his face is hard and unyielding as ever.
But that's not the only part of him that's hard. Even through the skirted part of his tunic, his cock bulges against his clothing, making it obvious that he's affected.
Good. I want him to be affected. I want him to be as aching with need as I am.
"Faith," Aron says, and his voice is softer and gentler than I've ever heard it. "You are my anchor. I must protect you from everything if I am to ensure that we both return to our proper places. I cannot become distracted."
My nipples feel like they get even harder at his tone, and I arch my back just a little, letting him get a good look at what he's missing out on. "And you think I'm distracting?"
"A mortal liaison would be distracting."
I don't like how vague he's trying to make that. I slip a hand to my breast, thumbing my finger over my nipple and sure enough, his gaze flicks there again and his mouth tightens. "But am I distracting?"
"You always distract me, Faith." The air practically crackles around us and shivers with intensity, like it did downstairs. If anything, his gaze is more intense than ever before.
"Good," I tell him, and lie back down, tugging the covers back up. "I'm glad both of us are going to bed with blue balls."
He chuckles, and the sound is low and delicious and oh, it makes me wet all over again. "I do not know what that means, but I can guess."
"It's unfair," I tell him, and slide my hand between my thighs, a wicked idea occurring to me. "I guess I'll just touch myself to ease the problem—"
"If you do, I will tie your hands to the bedposts," he warns.
I raise my hand out from under the blanket and give him the finger, instead. "You suck."
Aron just laughs again. "Go to sleep, Faith."
Oh sure, like I'm just supposed to turn things on and off like a switch. I fight back my irritation and close my eyes, trying to ignore the throbbing heat between my thighs and the nearness of the man I want so badly. The man that won't touch me, despite the endless sexual tension building between us.
At least it explains why he had such a hard-on at Tadekha's citadel and never touched me. Mortal liaisons are distracting.
He doesn't know the half of it. If he thinks I've been distracting so far, he hasn't seen anything yet. I vow to be the most frustrating, distracting, cock-tease of a mortal that this world has ever seen. Aron has needs like any other man. I'm going to break him down, make him realize he's torturing himself over nothing.
And when he snaps, it's going to be glorious.
52
Project Tease begins the next morning.
When I wake up, Aron is distant, already distracted with his plans for the day. He glances over me to assess my mood. "Are you angry about last night?" he asks as he dresses.
"Me? Nah." I yawn. "You're the one in charge. I'm just the lowly mortal."
That makes him pause. One eyebrow goes up. "You are the mortal, but I also know you, Faith."
I wave a hand, indicating he should leave. "We'll talk about it some other time. Go do your thing."
Aron studies me for a moment and then puts his belt on, heavily decorated with daggers and the like. "I want you and the other girl to keep up the pretense."
"Yulenna?"
He shrugs. "Whatever her name is."
All right, I shouldn't be such a gleeful bitch that he can't remember her name…but I am. "She's the anchor and I'm the concubine. Got it."
"Stay in these apartments until I return."
"Did we say ‘concubine’ or did we say ‘prisoner’?" I ask lightly.
He just gives a shake of his head. "I knew you were still angry. Faith, do not test me on this. As you saw last night, these people have very set customs. I will be extremely cross if I find you gone and in some other mortal fool's bed all because you did not listen to me."
Well, that would make me pretty cross, too. "Is he a hot fool?" I ask, though, and my toes curl when Aron looks over at me with a vicious frown. "Don't worry. I won't go anywhere. I might be pissy but I'm not an idiot. I have no desire to be shared with half the fucking city like they think I should be. Your concubine is going to take a nap." I fluff my pillow and turn away, forcing another yawn. "And tell them to send up breakfast. Lots of it."
I wait to see if he's going to say anything else, but Aron is quiet. After a long, tense moment, he leaves the room and the door shuts behind him.
I roll onto my back and glare up at the ceiling. So Aron doesn't want to play with his toys…but he doesn't want anyone else to play with them either. I'm not going to let him sit me on some shelf, though, and only acknowledge me when he needs to show off in front of others. We're a team. That won't change if we sleep together. I run a hand down my front, palming my naked breast and thinking of his hand last night. Hot shivers move through me and I remember the heat in his gaze, the way the air crackled so ferociously as if we were about to be struck by lightning where we stood.
God, that thrill of danger should not have been as sexy as it was. But it's arousing because it went with Aron's heated looks, Aron's possessive touches, Aron's big hands all over my body as he declared in front of the world that I was his. That I was his alone.
Project Tease is definitely a go, I decide.
I jump up from bed and throw on a robe that's hanging from a hook. It's of a soft weave and not all that modest, so I'm guessing Lady Gerline dresses like a castle ho on the regular. Maybe women are just showpieces to these men after all. Great. All the more reason to stay in the apartments like Aron suggested. I might be angry at him, but like I said, I'm not stupid. I know this world isn't safe like my own, and I don't know that I'd be all that safe dressed like this in my world, either.
But if I'm not leaving the apartments, anything goes.
Both turn. Kerren gives a bow but Solat only grins knowingly.
"No bowing," I whisper. "I'm the concubine, remember?"
Kerren blushes. "Of course." He straightens, looking like an overgrown schoolboy in leather armor. "What can we get for you?"
"Where's Aron?"
"Lord Secuban was waiting for him. They are touring the keep."
"Showing off," Solat adds lazily. "Probably still trying to convince Lord Aron that he should be his army."
"Ugh. Aron doesn't want an army." I don't point out that he barely wants them around. "Did he send up breakfast?"
"It will be here shortly," Kerren says, and almost bows again but stops himself. "Can we get you anything else?"
"Yulenna," I say. "And some servants that are good with hair and makeup. Aron doesn't want me going out so I'm going to have a spa day."
"A what day?"
"Never mind. Basically I'm going to do my hair and take hot baths and other girly shit. Are you guys on guard duty all day?"
"We are proud to serve," Kerren says stiffly, even as Solat stifles a yawn. They both look tired.
"Where's Markos?"
"With my Lord Aron."
"And Vitar?"
"He is guarding Yulenna's apartments—"
"Cool, let's condense things then. You guys look tired. Bring her here and you three trade off watching the door. One of you can come in and nap in between shifts. There's an extra cot in here," I tell them, pointing off to the side. I'm guessing that's for bed guests of all kinds. Yeesh, Novoro, turn it down a notch.
They hesitate, glancing at each other.
"You'll all three still be guarding, right? We'll be safer than ever if we're together. And if Aron gives you any shit, you were following my orders."
That convinces them. Kerren heads down the hall to go retrieve Vitar and Yulenna, and Solat gives me a flirty grin. "You're good to us, lady."
"Faith. And I have a soft heart, what can I say?"
"Invitingly soft," he says, his smile growing wider.
I put a hand up. "I'm going to stop you there, Solat, because we both know Aron would neuter you in a heartbeat if he heard you were flirting with me. I'm sure you want to keep your balls."
Even though it's difficult to tell in the shadowy corridor, I'm pretty sure he pales. "An excellent reminder, thank you."
I give him a little nod and smile. "Save it for Yulenna if you want to flirt with anyone." Even if I was interested, his mouth was on as many women as he could possibly manhandle last night, and that's just gross.
Plus…he's not Aron.
The lord of storms might be ruining me for all men in the future.
It's the laziest day I've spent since I arrived in this world. I don't leave the rooms, and staff bring up delicate sweet treats and fine wines for us to feast on. I eat my weight in candied fruits as servants massage my limbs and rub scented oils into my skin. My hair is washed, trimmed, braided, and perfumed. It sounds amazing, but there have been so many awful days since I arrived in this land that I can't even relax for this. I keep one eye on the door and watch every new person that comes in suspiciously. I keep a small dagger (meant to cut food) under my thigh at every moment, just in case someone decides to murder me. Yulenna relaxes and enjoys every last moment as if it's her due, though. She bosses around the servants and picks through the clothing brought for her as if she's lived this sort of life for all her years.
And she flirts. Lord, how she flirts. She flirts with Solat. She flirts with the male servants that empty out the bathwater. She flirts with anything that enters the room and has a penis. I just watch her with amusement, wondering if she's trying to secure her future or she just genuinely likes men that much. It's clear she's in her element, though.
Not me. I feel like a fish out of water as I always do, constantly out of place and not sure what to do with myself. Oddly enough, I wish Aron was here to talk to. He'd say some snippy, arrogant shit that would remind me that even when he’s a dick, he’s still kind of fun to be around. We'd share a smile over something. More than anything, he'd understand if I complained about feeling out of place.
He knows what that feels like, after all.
"Did you bring in the concubine's new dresses?" Yulenna asks in an imperious voice when the servants bring another round of food. I shove a nut-covered pastry into my mouth, licking my fingers as she turns and gives the servants an angry look. "Haven't we asked for our clothes? Repeatedly? She needs them so she can be ready to greet our lord of storms when he returns to our chambers this evening."
"I'm sorry, revered anchor," a female maidservant stammers to Yulenna. "We were told to bring the clothes, but then you asked for more food and—"
"And now the food is here, and we still need the clothes." She looks down her nose at the woman. "Go and retrieve them."
"Right away, revered anchor." The servant drops into a quick bobbing curtsy and then races out the door.
"Laying it on a little thick, aren't we?" I murmur to Yulenna, who just gives me an impish grin. "I mean, she's got a point. I did ask for more food. Whatever these little nutty things are, they're fucking amazing." They're shaped like stars and taste like heaven and I might have already eaten an entire tray. Or two.
Definitely two.
Yulenna just tosses her hair. "Oh, if we don't order them about, it messes up the pecking order. The more demanding that we are, the more it cements our power. We act like they're here to serve our every need and it reminds them who's in charge."
That's an odd way of looking at things, but it makes sense. I've been nice and polite to the soldiers, and while Markos and Kerren are kind and courteous to both me and Yulenna, Vitar smirks a lot and Solat flirts far too much for his own good. Maybe if I'd been firmer with them and established that we weren't supposed to be buddies, things would be smoother. As it is, I inwardly grimace every time Solat stares at me a little too long.
It's just a matter of time before Aron catches him and removes his head with his bare hands.
Of course, I'm a sick woman because that thought gives me a stupid little thrill that Aron would act jealous over something like that. Not that I want Solat to lose his head…but I like the thought of Aron being possessive over me.
Yulenna's smarter than she lets on, though. I eye her with new appreciation as the servants return and she gives them impatient looks and acts displeased. They all scramble to do her bidding and fill the room with their apologies, until her frown lifts and she gives them a tiny incline of her head, indicating they're back in her good graces.
She's got this shit down pat. For a moment, I feel a twinge of remorse. Would Aron do better with someone like Yulenna at his side? Someone who knows how to play the game and who knows this world and its customs? Probably.
Instead, he has me. I don't know anything, I can't fight for shit, and I'm bad at pretending that I do.
I suck as an anchor.
"There. I think these are acceptable. Try one on, Faith." She moves to the long chest of gowns and pulls the first one off of a stack.
I wipe my fingers, take one last sip of my wine, and then get up to join her. “Did you say these were new?”
“Yes. I figured I’d ask and see what we could get away with.” She gives me sly look. “The men only think about armor and weapons, but you and I both know that sometimes our only weapon is the way we look.”
I hate that she says that, because I hate that I have to agree with her. It’s become quite clear to me that the rules in this world don’t always apply like they do back home. Women are most definitely not equal here. Not anywhere here. That’s been a hard lesson to learn. I hate that I’m about to play up the only weapon I have because I want Aron to notice me. “Which gown’s the s
luttiest?”
Her eyes gleam with approval and she puts the one in her hands back on its hook and pulls out another. “This one, I wager. Look at the material. It’s as thin as cobwebs.”
It is rather pretty and shimmery. The pale fabric reminds me of opals, with different colors swirling through the fabric as it moves. I touch it and it feels buttery soft against my fingers. “That is pretty,” I admit. “Think it’s my size or yours?” She’s got a bigger bust and a tinier waist than me.
Yulenna just laughs. “It’ll fit. Disrobe and I’ll show you.”
Sure enough, it does fit. I mean, how can it not? Once I get naked and she drapes it over my head, I see why she laughed. The word “gown” is a very loose term. There are two embroidered frog-clasps on each shoulder, and the rest of the gown falls to my feet in a shimmering, sheer fall of fabric that slithers over my skin. And it’s sexy. The fabric is sexy. The sheerness of it is sexy. Even the way it hugs my shoulders as if barely managing to stay on is sexy. The material itself clings and slinks against my body as if it’s a second skin, outlining everything and leaving nothing to the imagination.
“Want to rouge your nipples and cunt?” Yulenna asks. “So they stand out under the fabric?”
“Um, no, I’m good.” I resist the instinctive urge to put my hands over my privates as she studies me. Stand out? Everything’s already standing out. My nipples are standing at attention, sticking out against the dress and completely outlined. The now-trimmed strip of bush I’m sporting is utterly visible. I don’t think I could stand out more if I tried.
“Yes, I suppose he likes how natural you are. I can see it holds a certain appeal to him.” She studies me. “Lick your lips.”
“What?”
“Lick your lips. Wet them. Make them glisten.” She arches an eyebrow. “That’s what this is about, right? Seducing Aron into your bed?”