“No, I simply hope for a great deal more.” That kiss had sustained him through the pain and given him the impetus to fight past it, fight hard, and do whatever it took to stay alive just for the opportunity of experiencing all of Anhuset's consuming affections.
A knock at the door interrupted them before they could argue further. At Serovek's bid to enter, a monk slipped inside and offered the Beladine military salute to Serovek and a bow to Anhuset. “I'm here to collect your supper plates and tell you if you feel well enough, you're welcome to bathe in the springs below ground. They have healing properties that work alongside our magic.” He glanced at Anhuset, gaze touching on her own contusions, cuts, and bruised skin. “You're welcome to do the same, sha-Anhuset.”
“A most excellent invitation,” Serovek said. “And one I accept.” He set his emptied tankard on the tray just as the monk swept it from his lap. Anhuset rose nimbly to her feet, more watchful than annoyed now. She looked for any weakness in his demeanor that might belie his assurances of strength.
“Join me,” he said. “I'll prove to you I'm more than capable of taking a walk to a pool.” When she hesitated, he slyly suggested, “It will be your chance to drown me with no one the wiser.” A rattle of dishes sounded at the table as the monk cleared them away.”
Anhuset's lips twitched. “Well, when you put it like that, I'd be a fool to refuse.”
Soon, they followed a novice monk through quiet corridors, descending empty stairwells until they were indeed below ground where the monastery kept its root cellars and buttery. Bundled in borrowed woolens and heavy cloaks, they passed another group of chambers, their doors shut, before entering a short hall surrounded entirely by mortared stone with an archway at the end. On the other side, the space opened up to a cavern carved out by nature and time instead of the hand of man. Two small, interlocking pools bubbled quietly, a light veil of steam floating over both.
“It isn't drinkable,” their guide said. He set down the drying cloths he carried on a flat expanse of rock far enough from the pool to keep dry in case of splashing. “The minerals give the water a strange taste, but it's good for healing shallow wounds and easing the ache of bruises.”
“And it's warm,” Anhuset said in an almost reverent voice.
The novice nodded. “Stay as long as you wish. I believe your comrade Erostis will be here later to soak his own injuries, so you'll have company.”
As much as Serovek liked and admired Erostis, he didn't greet that news with any enthusiasm.
Once the novice left, Anhuset wasted no time in shedding her borrowed garb and treating Serovek to a breathtaking view of her body before stepping into the first pool and submerging up to her neck. Her white hair floated around her like spider silk and she gestured to him with a wave of her hand. “Are you coming in or do you need help?”
Had he any plans to hide his desire from her, his aroused state would give him away the moment he pulled off his clothes. Luckily, he had no interest in hiding how much he lusted for her and hoped such obvious proof might convince her he was sincere in his passion.
He didn't miss the admiring glint lightening her eyes when he waded into the water. She didn't look away or keep distance between them as he swam toward her, the water sliding around him like warm silk.
“How many bruises did you count as I walked into the water?” he asked.
To his delight, she floated toward him, only halting when her body bumped against his and her arms slid around his waist. “What bruises?” she said, a hint of her teeth flashing white behind her partial smile. Her laughter, low and sultry, seduced him almost as much as the feel of her pressed against him. He returned her embrace, drawing her close so that no empty space existed between them.
Sleek and muscled, she was the epitome of the Kai warrior humans feared and respected, physically powerful, very aware of her many strengths and how to use them. Serovek savored those aspects of her, indulged in the way his blood pumped hot through his veins at the way she fit to his body, how her buttocks curved taut in his hands and the muscles in her long back flexed under his caress. She was slim hipped with legs that went for leagues and could break him in half if she wrapped them around his middle and squeezed. The forbidden and the dangerous had always been the lodestones of humanity, and he was no exception. And while Anhuset was still dangerous, the language of her silent affection told him that she was no longer forbidden to him.
They held each other in the water, doing nothing more for the moment than learning each other's shape and texture in the quiet of the pool, without the threat of death hanging over them or the sense that one kiss might be a first and also a last exchanged. It was a moment to prolong.
“Are you going to kiss me again, margrave?” she said. “Or have you lost your courage and fear for your tongue?” She didn't challenge him by baring her teeth, but he sensed a subtle shift in her body, a fine tensing of muscle as if she expected him to refuse her invitation.
He cupped her face, beautiful even with its purplish marks, and tilted her chin up with his thumb. “I finally have a naked sha-Anhuset in my arms. I fear nothing.”
Her sigh became a moan when he captured her lips with his and explored their contours anew, relearning the giving terrain, the way she tasted, how she slanted her mouth under his and caught his lower lip between both of hers to suck and nibble. Her memory of that first exploration while they stood beaten and bloodied on the island hillside was as clear as his, for she slowed the kiss and opened her mouth wider to invite him inside. He didn't hesitate, swooping in to caress her mouth with his tongue and expertly avoid the sharp points of her teeth. She returned the caress with the same fervor and less caution, her tongue tangling with his before swiping along the top and sides of his mouth.
They broke apart to breathe. Serovek pressed his forehead to Anhuset's only to retreat when she jerked away with an “ouch!” She touched her brow and he remembered the contusion she'd gained, courtesy of a nasty head-butting that left her with a painful lump and her adversary with a shattered nose and missing teeth.
“Forgive me,” he said. “I'd forgotten about that spot.”
She waved away his apology. “You can make it up to me,” she said with a sly grin, no longer worried that her toothy amusement might scare him off.
Those flashes of vulnerability reminded him that for all her physical prowess and ferocity, there were still aspects of Anhuset that were unsure, self-doubting, even fearful. They were as much a part of her character as all the rest, just buried deeper and only revealed to those she trusted most. She trusted him.
The realization of such a gift bestowed upon him spiked his passion for her even higher though he hadn't thought such a thing possible. He cradled her hips, lifting her a tiny bit. The water's buoyancy made it effortless, and she wrapped her legs around him, anchoring herself in place, thighs wide. Inviting. Tempting. Teasing. Her eyelids dropped to half mast, lending a sleepy come-hither expression to her features. Her back arched, legs tightening on his torso.
He bent his head to nuzzle her throat, then nibble the elegant cords of her neck, and move on to her shoulder where he bit down gently and was rewarded with a gasp and the sting of her claws raking lightly across his shoulder blades.
He lifted her higher, arched her back a little more and took one firm breast in his mouth. Her nipple, a lavender-gray, surrounded by an areola of similar shade, hardened in his mouth, and he suckled it to an even stiffer peak. Anhuset's panting moans echoed in the chamber and likely down the narrow corridors where others could hear. Serovek didn't care and doubted she did either.
His plan to lavish the same attention her other breast was curtailed when Anhuset's legs flexed so tight around him, it was his turn to gasp. “Anhuset,” he rasped. Her eyes, a burnished gold glittering with sparks, stared at him for moment before widening when he gasped again. “Release.” She loosened her grip, and he inhaled a grateful breath.
While she might have relaxed her hold, she didn't let go entirely. Thigh muscles contracted as did her calves, forcing him forward with a hard push. Her pelvis tilted and in one quick motion he slid partially inside her. “Gods,” he groaned as she squeezed his shaft, her inner muscles flexing to grip the head of his cock and tug.
“Enough teasing, margrave,” she said in a guttural voice. “Show me what it is to be pleasured by the Beladine Stallion.”