Page 123 of Traitor Son

That was a clear victory to Ophele.

Unfortunately, the walls were thin and there were two guards and a dozen cottages nearby, so howling had to be kept to a minimum. They were both rather vocal with their pleasures and Ophele finally grabbed for a pillow to muffle her cries while Remin died a dozen deaths, swallowing his own groans. Privacy was a luxury he would never enjoy while the Emperor lived, but he still didn’t care to broadcast their activities to half the town.

The bed was another problem. It had not been made to withstand this sort of activity and every time he really got going, it started smacking against the wall. Rhythmically.

“Shhh, oh, Remin, they’ll hear,” Ophele whispered, breathless and horrified at the same time, and Remin stuffed a pillow between the frame and the wall so they could finish together in a strangling, simultaneous orgasm.

They dozed, lying limply together in a tangle of limbs. They made love again. He lost count of how many times he had been inside her; it all blended together in an endless, blissful dream, sleeping and rousing and coming together again. Telling secrets. Telling truths.

“Why were you in the woods that day?” he asked. She was sprawled partway on his chest, and the curve of her slender back fit perfectly under his fingers as he stroked her. “When we came to Aldeburke.”

He was trying to tread lightly; Remin was aware that he was not always the most delicate of men. But there were a number of things that gave him pause.

“I didn’t know who you were,” she said instantly, as if she had been dying to tell him this. “I was sorry as soon as I found out, I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”

“But why were you there, little owl?” he asked it as gently as he could, his finger trailing along the large outer orbit of her eyes. His little owl, so solemn. “Hiding in a tree, of all places.”

“I was afraid there would be trouble,” she said, her lashes lowering to conceal her splendid eyes. “I thought, so many knights…”

“The lord never told you I was coming?”

“No.”

“So I scared you,” he said regretfully. “I thought it was an insult. The Emperor enjoys such tricks. But…Ophele, if it wasn’t an insult, why were you dressed—”

“Well, I didn’t need anything nice around the house…”

Could that be right? She had been a prisoner. But it felt like there was something she wasn’t telling him, and even worse was the way she was avoiding his eyes. And she still hadn’t explained why she would see strangers andhide,he realized. She had answered so neatly it had almost gone right by him.

He frowned. She was a formidable opponent.

“I see,” he said quietly, and let his fingers play over her lower lip. He wasn’t sure what to do. Now that he thought about it, she had always had little to say of herself, and was so good at turning questions aside. “Considering that I began our acquaintance by shouting at you, I wonder that you ever came to love me, wife. Explain yourself.”

Under his fingers, he felt that soft lip curve.

“Well, I didn’t at first,” she said, relaxing against him. “But I was listening on the way here, when all of you talked about Tresingale. I liked that. I’d never thought about what it takes to build something. And then when we came here, I realized that you didn’t come out of a book. Remin Grimjaw. I heard about you from when I was a little girl…”

He could have listened to her soft, drowsy voice forever as she went on, telling her story. It was odd to hear about the Remin Grimjaw she had heard about, a man that was nearly as strange to him as he was to her. He hadn’t really known what was said about him, when he was growing up. He had been too busy trying to live long enough to grow up.

“But none of those things happened by themselves,” she said. “You had to figure out how to do all of it. All of this. And I was always sorry about what my father had done, everything—everything,” she said, touching the scar on his cheek. “I knew he wanted to kill you, but then I started thinking how terrible it would be if you died. And, in Granholme, before…I thought it would be nice, if you loved me like that. And then I realized I couldn’t bear it, if you didn’t.”

Her voice grew softer as her shyness got the better of her, and Remin held his breath, not wanting to miss a single word.

“But I think it started with Tresingale,” she finished, resting her head on his chest. “It’s your dream. And I liked your dream. I love your dream.”

“Come here,” he murmured, tugging her toward him and covering her lips in a slow, caressing kiss that singed the edges of every nerve. Lifting a hand, he traced his thumb along the delicate ridge of her jaw, feeling it move with the soft slide of her lips over his own.

“Remin,” she whispered, a musical little purr as his other hand slid down her back to her lovely round backside. Remin had not had much opportunity to contemplate his favorite parts of female anatomy, but it was so satisfying to squeeze her. “Again?”

“I think so,” he said thoughtfully, and rolled on top of her as she giggled, sliding her legs apart. She had gained back much of the weight she had lost in the weeks since her illness, and her thighs felt so pleasingly round and smooth in his hands, he had to kiss them before he insinuated his big body between them.

She was still wet. He had filled her so many times, this was not surprising, and though he thought there was small chance his seed would catch, it gave him pleasure to sow her thoroughly. Even if he did get her with child tonight, the main house would be done before she delivered. He entered her in a long, deep stroke, the plump pink petals between her legs wrapping tight around him, with just enough friction to make him lightheaded.

“Oh, you’re so deep…” she moaned, her hands sliding over his back. His hard member rasped her as Remin pushed still further, sheathed to the hilt and feeling her tight channel grip him.

“Too…deep?” he managed, grinding himself there because it felt so good he could hardly stand it.

“Nooo…” she breathed, pulling him down to her, and her small, silky body lifted to push against him eagerly, a rolling motion that made him push up, in, and made them moan together as he rubbed in her. “Come deeper…”

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