Page 20 of Kept to Kill
‘It’s Bastian. I bring refreshments,’ he coaxed, and the door opened a crack just as he’d known it would.
He entered and watched as she moved back towards the wall, not the bed. Curious. It wasn’t as if anyone could rape her, so why? Was it something she did with purpose or randomly?
He put one of the goblets he carried on the table and surveyed her, much as he had the room when he’d first come up here a few moments ago. She looked drawn and was breathing heavily from Mal driving her up the stairs.
‘Are you all right?’
He wondered why he’d bothered asking. It wasn’t as if he cared.
But she nodded as if he should of course ask after her welfare as she unclasped her cloak and hung it over the back of one of the high-backed wooden chairs on the other side of the table. Tentatively, she reached forward, her hands now gloved, he noticed.
‘Where did you get the clothes?’ he asked, automatically moving back so that she wouldn’t feel crowded.
‘Maeve,’ she said and took a long drink, making a face when she realized it was wine.
‘Ah, of course.’ He’d only met the woman once or twice since he’d joined up with the Army. Her unit was very protective of her, though from what he’d seen of her fighting skills, they didn’t need to be. She was a vicious and savage bitch when she fought.
Odd that they’d formed a bond, but then women were as likely to bond as sisters as they were to hate each other to the bitter end. Bastian much preferred the former. Catfights tended to get loud rather quickly from his experience on the Mount.
She drank some of the wine before turning her back on him and going to the casement. She opened it wide and stared out of it at the view of the mountains, now much closer after their day’s trek.
She stared out at the scene for ages, and Bastian found he was content to stare at her backside while she did so.
When she turned abruptly and caught him ogling, she didn’t react past a roll of her ordinary hazel eyes, though he saw how her shoulders tensed once more.
‘What are you afraid of?’ he asked abruptly. ‘That I’ll throw you on the bed and fuck you?’
Her eyes widened at his crude words, but when she opened her mouth, her voice didn’t waver. ‘Yes, I am often afraid of such a thing out here.’
‘Why?’ he scoffed. ‘You’re not so beautiful that I’d forget what would happen if I stuck it in you.’
‘I’ve killed four men since I was found in my tower,’ she reminded him. ‘I’d rather not make it a fifth.’
He snorted. ‘I feel sorry for you,’ he confessed coldly. ‘No man able to touch you. You must be so unsatisfied. Gods, you poor girl, your quim is probably a shriveled thing.’
He thought that would make her angry, but instead she seemed to battle a smile. ‘Don’t feel too bad,’ she said, obviously trying to control her amusement. ‘I got quite good at doing it myself.’
‘I’m sorry?’ he squeaked and cleared his throat, his heart hammering in his chest as a picture of her doing what she described appeared in his mind.
‘Pleasuring myself. I’m very good at it, so you needn’t worry about my quim withering like a dried-up husk,’ she explained with a straight face, though she was clearly mocking him. ‘Did you not realize women could do it? Don’t worry. I’m quite well satisfied. Thank you for your concern, though.’
He felt his cheeks heat as if he were a boy of fifteen summers trying to kiss his first girl. He couldn’t even remember being that young, but he would guess it felt like this.
She thought to embarrasshim?
He let his eyes wander over her, lingering over her form-fitting tunic and the breeches that hugged her hips. ‘That’s something I’d like to see,’ he said softly and watched her lips part in a tiny gasp.
Her cheeks reddened, but she didn’t back down. ‘I’m sure you would,’ she said sultrily. Then she tipped her head back and gulped down the rest of her wine as he stared at the alluring curve of her throat. He wanted to taste her, lick that hollow at the base of her neck. His cock, already well and truly hard, bobbed painfully in his breeches and he stifled a groan. Why was he torturing himself? He couldn’t touch her.
She reached to put the goblet on the table, not stepping any closer to him. ‘But, sadly, the only show I’ll be giving you ends with someone bleeding from their eyes on the floor.’
Without another word, she turned her back to him and returned to the window, leaving him surprised and aroused in a way that he hadn’t been in a long, long time. There was more to Lily than he’d first suspected. Much more.
‘How long will it take to get to wherever it is we’re going?’ she asked, not turning around.
‘I’ve got no fucking idea,’ he muttered. ‘All I know is that we take a ship from here. You’ll have to ask Quin.’
He left the room, willing his aching cock to settle down as he ordered the girl’s dinner from the innkeeper and left to find a different ale-house to get drunk in. With any luck, he’d find another woman to quell his sexual appetites so that he’d actually be able to sleep in the same room as Lily tonight.
