“More,” she moaned, watching herself in the mirror, his body locked to her side.
“Who knew I’d married such a filthy woman.” Averys chuckled. He pulled his fingers free, tracked them up her spine, and wrapped his hand in her hair, pushing her forwards until her head touched the bed. Her backside came up in response, and she lay there, completely exposed, head down, ass in the air, knees splayed wide, waiting for his attention.
His attention came in an unexpected form as he licked and sucked at her clitoris, and she cried out into the bedsheets. His tongue trailed all the way up as his hands kneaded her buttocks and spread them apart. As he gave one long, wet lick of her ass, she cried out again, her mind wanting to say more, but all that emerged was an odd, muffled sound.
In a heartbeat, he sat up and pressed the head of his cock against her bottom.
“Breathe in,” he commanded, and she did so without hesitation. “Good. Breathe out and push back against me.”
Pain followed as he forced himself in, breaking her apart in a way she could never have imagined. He didn’t stop until he was all the way inside her. She gripped the bedsheets, hot tears springing from her eyes. It was almost too much; she began to sob uncontrollably, not caring that having a sobbing woman beneath him probably wasn’t what Averys wanted.
He didn’t move but didn’t pull out, either. Instead, he remained in place, hips locked tightly against her backside, one hand gripping her thigh to hold her to him, the other hand reached down to the back of her head. Fingers trailed through her hair, turning circles on the back of her head with the gentlest touch as he softly shushed. Those fingers began their familiar trail down her neck, across her back, eliciting a shiver down her spine, taking the sting from the front of her mind. Nails scraped lightly down her back and then across her hips as he reached around and underneath to find her clit once more.
Her traitorous body responded, knees spreading a little further apart to allow him access. Once again, she relaxed slightly, the feeling of fullness abating as she focused on the circles his fingertip drew across her clit. The tears stopped. Her grip on the bedsheets loosened, and he began to move, slow at first, each small movement straddling the line between pain and pleasure. He increased the pace and depth of each tentative thrust by miniscule measures until her muscles finally gave in and relaxed, giving way to pure sensation.
The world disappeared as she focused on the feeling, her thighs locked, arms outstretched as she accepted every deep, driving assault. Averys returned to his usual cacophony of barking noises, but she barely heard as her heartbeat thumped loudly in her ears and she called out her own relentless stream of animalistic shouts. Before long, the mixture of his movements inside her and the harsh rubbing on her clit had her rushing towards another orgasm, this one far more pronounced than ever. It continued on and on, rolling continuously until Averys himself climaxed.
She collapsed into a heap, her head at the foot of the bed. Her hair lay matted against her face, a mask of sweat and tears. Her body shuddered everywhere, and she became aware of the fact that, if she even attempted to lift her head, she would likely pass out. Averys slid down onto the sheets at her side, his head propped up on his fist as he stared down at her.
“Well?” he asked once her breathing had returned to normal, and he pushed a strand of hair from her eye.
She wasn’t sure what the question had been. Was he asking her if she felt well, or did he expect her to give an assessment of his performance?
“That was…different,” she said, not quite sure how else to describe it.
“Hmm. You should head down and have something else to eat and drink, regain your strength. I’ll have the servants pack your bags.”
So it was that he left her—not even a goodbye kiss, not so much as a thank you or anything even vaguely sentimental. But he did leave with a smile on his face, and that was comfort enough for now, she supposed.
XV – Travel Companions
Lenora had hoped she would travel in a carriage with windows so she could see out as they headed off to wherever was going to be her temporary home for a while. When a heavily protected lump of steam-driven machinery lumbered up the road and onto the palace grounds, her heart sank. It looked more like a machine designed to carry soldiers across an unforgiving battleground than a carriage fit for the Royal Consort.
She finished scratching a letter to her parents, in which she chatted about the weather and wrote in general terms about her pregnancy. Averys had ordered her not to include details of the threat, or even to mention the fact that she was leaving the palace, and she obeyed, knowing full-well he would read it before it was sent.
The only saving grace in the entire affair was the hope that Nathanial would be assigned to the plethora of guards accompanying her. Even if they couldn’t find a way of sneaking in any private moments together, she would be pleased enough to have him nearby. The fact that Lusk and Barentyn hadn’t returned yet made her feel safer in her skin. With any luck, both men would meet a nasty end just as they finished off the threat.
A knock on the door snapped away her daydreams of death and destruction toward anyone who wanted her dead.
“Come,” she called. To her surprise, the military doctor Colonel Morsh appeared; he flashed his charming smile at her—a mouth full of perfectly aligned teeth and bright brown eyes which seemed to twinkle in the dull light.
“Ma’am,” he said giving a salute. She pivoted on her heels to face him, still unsure of what to do in response to displays of protocol, salute back? She bit her tongue to suppress a smile at the thought of them standing, there saluting one another from opposite ends of the room.
“Colonel Morsh, I wasn’t expecting to see you. Don’t tell me I need to have an examination before I go?”
“Not at all. I have been asked to accompany you on your journey as your personal physician. I just came to check that you’re feeling well enough to travel? No queasiness?”
“Not currently, no.”
“Good. Let’s hope it stays that way. I’ll be riding in the transport vehicle with you, so if you feel ill at any point, let me know. I’m prepared for the worst.”
“How charming,” she said, the words sounding haughtier than she’d intended. If the Colonel noticed her condescending tone, he didn’t react. In fact, his smile seemed to broaden somewhat. She was torn between feeling pleased at having such agreeable company along the journey and concerned that she’d probably spend the whole time ogling him and get in trouble for it.
They headed through the palace corridors together. He walked a few steps behind her, and a pair of guards walked a few steps behind him. She forced herself to remain calm; she would have to grow accustomed to having a group of men following her around whenever she stepped out of a room, but it seemed like a tricky thing to get used to.
Outside, the air was warm and sticky, the heat cloying her dress against her skin. She’d worn knickers as per Averys’ request, but was already regretting it as she looked at the armoured vehicle parked on the gravel track. It had nothing more than a few thin slits by way of windows. It was certainly going to be a hot ride.
Averys stood on the gravel beside the vehicle, and as she approached, a number of soldiers emerged. Dozens of men in dark green uniforms, rifles slung across their shoulders, surrounded her like a swarm, and her new doctor Colonel Morsh stood leaning against the vehicle to chat with another high-ranking soldier. Both men stood to attention suddenly, and Lenora turned to see Averys walking toward her.
“Where am I headed?” she asked him as he approached and stood looking her up and down. She wasn’t sure if he would answer or not.
“North,” he said.
She managed to stop her eyes from rolling at his non-descript answer. Instead, she gave a bland nod followed by a very elegant and notably public show of genuflection. Averys nodded in return, then waved his hand toward the vehicle. A soldier opened the small door and waited patiently for her to enter.
Ins
ide was just as she’d feared—a box with a few narrow windows and nothing more than a bench along either side. A large bundle had been stuffed against the far corner, and on the opposite side sat a collection of heavy suitcases and boxes—her possessions, for what they were worth. A series of hooks and shelves with tie-ropes ran along the walls, presumably to carry the equipment of troops who were usually the habitants of such transport.
“I will ride with her, Sire,” Morsh said, “to ensure she isn’t left alone if she feels unwell during the journey.” He didn’t wait for an acknowledgement from Averys; he simply marched straight into the vehicle and sat down on the bench opposite. Two more soldiers came in and sat either side of the door.
Lenora groaned inwardly at the realisation that they wouldn’t have any privacy. The thought of spending the journey chatting with the Colonel appealed to her, but with company, the best she could hope for would be polite and menial chit-chat. Anything more deep and meaningful seemed unlikely.
The door slammed shut and plunged the inside of the vehicle into virtual darkness; only a few shards of light from the small window slits provided illumination. Lenora gripped the edge of the bench as the sound of the engine firing to life rattled throughout. Moments later, the truck lurched and started trundling along.
“Going to be a long trip,” Morsh said, his voice raised over the noise of the engine.
“I don’t suppose you will tell me where we are going?” she said, her voice sounding terser and more accusatory than she’d really intended.
“We’re going to Shadow Ridge.”
“The mountain?”
“That’s right, Ma’am. The Emperor has a hunting lodge there. You ever been?”
“No, I don’t think I even knew about it.”
“He never told you?”
“No.” She shook her head. Averys had never been open with her about anything, and every attempt she made to engage him in something more than polite conversation had been rapidly shot down to the point where she gave up trying. Had she known a rigorous bout of cock-sucking would be the catalyst to his opening up, she might have made more effort in that regard sooner. Even that had only opened him up so far. She seemed destined to never raise her position in his eyes.
“What sort of animals do they hunt there?” she asked after realising she’d fallen silent. In the dim light, she could just about make out Morsh’s face across from her, his head rocking side-to-side with the motions of the vehicle.
“Lots of things. Duck, bear, fox, pigeon. The air will be fresh and cooler up there, too. Good for a pregnant lady to relax.”
“Yes, I imagine it would be if they’ll let me outside.”
“You’ll have protection of course, Ma’am, but I’m not aware of any orders to lock you up in a room.”
“Really?” Her voice squeaked. She’d assumed they would keep her indoors and not grant her any measure of freedom. Was it truly possible that she might be allowed something more than a bland, indoor life? Immediately, her mind flooded with thoughts of forest walks, dipping her toes into a lake, and riding a horse as fast as she would dare. Her stomach turned into knots of excitement rather than doom and despair.
The Colonel’s face contorted, and his smile turned to a frown. Was he not aware of how restricted her life had been? She’d presumed that much was obvious.
The entire carriage lurched to the side as they turned a corner, and the rumbling of the wheels changed to a deeper pitch, making it feel like they travelled over uneven ground. It seemed more like mud and rocks than paved roads, and it made her teeth rattle.
“Do you hunt, Colonel?”
“Yes. My father has lands to the west filled with elk. I’ve hunted since I was a boy.”
“Perhaps you can teach me?”
“It would be my pleasure, Ma’am. Do you ride?”
“I do. I love to ride. I haven’t ridden since…well, it’s been a while.”
“We’d have to be careful of course, due to your condition, but so long as you don’t go racing off or trekking up the side of the mountain, I’m sure it’d be all right.”
“Wonderful. Honestly, I never thought I’d be so pleased to be the target of an assassin.”
“You should get some rest,” he said. “It’ll be a long journey.”
“And how exactly do you suggest I do that, Colonel?”
“Hmm.” He stood, rocking side to side on strong, sturdy legs, his head almost brushing the ceiling, and proceeded to remove his jacket. He rolled it into a tight ball and laid it on the bench beside her.
She studied the outline of his body in the darkness. The plain, brown, army-issued shirt didn’t give much away, but there were certainly muscular bulges in all the right places.
“It’s not much, but it’s all I have to offer right now,” he said.
She looked down at the bundled jacket, unsure what it was meant to be. “A pillow?” she asked.
His charming smile returned as he sat down. “I’ll make sure you don’t fall off.”
She returned the smile and lay down on her side, her hip rubbing awkwardly on the bench. His pillow-jacket was about as comfortable as a rock, but it smelt of soap and clean, musky masculinity. It made her think of Nathanial, which made her heart sink. She’d hoped to see him amongst the plethora of soldiers coming along for the journey, but she hadn’t spotted his familiar red hair and chiselled jawline. She hadn’t even had the chance to say goodbye, and the thought of not seeing him for months on end distressed her.
A hot tear trickled down her nose, the sensation of it threatening to bring more tears. She squeezed her eyes shut and ground her teeth. She didn’t want to lay here in front of Morsh and the two guards, sobbing her heart out into his jacket. That wouldn’t be a pleasant experience for any of them. She tried to focus on the rocking of the vehicle in the hopes it would lull her into sleep; instead, it made her feel sick. If crying into his jacket was a bad idea, the notion of puking all over it was quite terrible.
Finally, she forced her mind to block all of that out by thinking about the torso which lay beneath Morsh’s shirt, strong arms lifting her onto the bench if she fell off, a gentle touch to her cheek to dry her tears, and then a kiss. The more pleasant thoughts took hold quickly, and before long, she slipped off to sleep.
When she awoke, it was with an unpleasant jerk. She pitched off the bench, for a moment disorientated, feeling as though she were about to fall into a deep, dark well. Her sleepy head remained not quite awake enough to figure out how to scream. A moment later, she felt a pair of arms wrapping across her shoulders, and she was pulled into a firm heap.
“Which idiot is driving?” Colonel Morsh barked from somewhere above. She opened her eyes, but the entire carriage was plunged into complete darkness.
“Reums, sir,” one of the soldiers answered. “I’ll have a word.”
The door at the back opened, bringing hardly any light inside. Lenora sat up, extracting herself from the Colonel’s lap.
“Are you hurt, Ma’am?”
“No, I’m fine, thank you. Where are we?”
“We’ve arrived.” The soldier returned, the sound of his boots on gravel. A moment later, more faces appeared in the doorway with someone carrying a lantern.
Lenora squinted as her eyes adjusted to the light. “Why didn’t you light a lantern in here?” she asked.
“I didn’t want to wake you, Ma’am,” he said as he stood, offering his hand to help her up.
“Very thoughtful.”
“As your personal physician, it is my duty to consider your health first and foremost in all things.”
His words took her breath away. It was simply a proclamation of his role in her life—a requirement, nothing more. But there was something about the way he said it that make her toes curl in a pleasing way. She found herself holding onto his hand for a little longer than necessary, and his charming smile returned. She wanted to warn him to stop doing that, otherwise she’d likely pass out and he’d have to carr
y her all over the place.
Their miniscule private moment ended abruptly as the bundle at the opposite end of the carriage shifted of its own accord. Lenora jumped and tightened her grip on the Colonel’s hand. He moved to one side, shifting his body in front of hers. The bundle of rags fell away and a man stood. Her first thought was that an assassin had been there the entire time, waiting to strike, but as the soldier at the opposite end raised the lantern and stepped into the carriage, the figure came into view. Dressed in dark green military uniform, the male arched his neck, and a flash of red hair caught her attention. Nathanial.
She wrenched her hand out of the Colonel’s and took a step backwards, at once feeling like a naughty child getting caught picking at the freshly baked piecrust. Nathanial didn’t react; he simply folded his arms behind his back, standing to attention.
“It seems you have a personal assassin on your staff as well, Ma’am,” Morsh said. “Good to see you, Nathanial.”
“Sir,” Nathanial said.
“The Emperor sent you?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Ma’am?” A gruff voice interrupted them from the end of the carriage. Lenora turned on her heels and headed out of the carriage towards the lamplight, shuffling with speed to escape the awkward atmosphere inside.
Outside, night had fallen, the dark sky hidden by a swathe of tall cedar trees surrounding the gravel road. Behind the carriage, the long road stretched back into the darkness with no obvious end. At the front of the carriage sat a large mansion, built from logs. Lamplight flared from the numerous windows at all levels. It was magnificent, not on the same scale as the palace, but she was as enamoured with it as she had been the first time she’d seen the palace. The large pair of front doors lay open, a team of servants and staff standing on the wooden steps, lined up like little soldiers awaiting inspection and approval.
Desire and Duty (The Consort's Chronicles Book 1) Page 13