Page 70 of Kept to Kill
His eyes roamed over her back to the base of her spine to her rounded arse, and he frowned as he saw the mottled bruises left over from his belt. He started forward, quietly moving towards her. When he stood directly behind, he put his hand on the globe of her cheek and heard her sharp intake of breath.
‘What are you doing?’ she gasped.
‘Hush,’ was his only response as he lifted the silk to get a better look at his handiwork. ‘I’m sorry,’ he muttered. ‘I was very heavy-handed. I promise you that I will never punish you thus again.’
She moved away from him, not making a sound and not turning to face him.
‘Please go,’ she pleaded.
He took one of their salve pots from the pouch at his belt. ‘Here,’ he said. ‘I’m sure you’ve used it since, but put it on again tonight.’
She nodded and he went back to his own chamber, disrobing at once. He sat on his bed, a goblet of wine in his hand and resting his head in the other. He felt suchguilt. If he could take back what he had done, he would. He would have punished her a different way. There were many ways he could have done it, yet he had chosen the lash because it was easiest.
He shook his head, taking a long drink and wondering if she would ever forgive him, though he knew he did not deserve it. He had been weak, let his emotions get the better of him. He was a shit Commander.
Perhaps it was best that she didn’t absolve him. He was making her do something she didn’t want to do. It was him who was putting her in danger, and he could see no other way. For the first time, he didn’t want to be the Commander. For the first time, he wished he hadn’t worked toward this and that he could simply walk away. But he couldn’t. There was no one to take his place. He was a fool, he thought, and, depending on what happened tomorrow, they might all pay the price for it. Especially Lily.
Chapter 11
Lily
Lily heard Quin leave the room and then she was alone. She stared at herself in the looking glass and unwrapped her hands from her body. She gaped anew at what she saw. The garment she was expected to wear truly had no modesty about it. How could she walk into that place in such clothes knowing that not only could everyone see everything but also that such a sight would make menwantto touch her? She didn’t consider herself vain, but the Brothers seemed enthralled enough by her form. Other men might be as well.
She thought back to what had happened in the pleasure tent in the Brothers’ camp. Had that only been a fortnight ago? Her gaze locked on the door where Quin had exited. The way he had looked at her … It was the same expression that she’d seen on his face when he’d caught her in the forest before he had taken the strap to her. Would he do it again, she wondered, or would he do something else instead? He wanted her. She could see it in his eyes. But he hated her regardless of what he said to the contrary, didn’t he?
She gave a sigh. She was so confused. How could a man hate her and yet still find her appealing enough forthat? She continued to gaze at herself in the mirror, trying to see what he saw. All three of the men seemed to enjoy her appearance. She’d never thought much upon it herself. No one had ever remarked upon her looks while she’d been kept in the tower. And when she was paraded out, most refused to look at her because they feared her power. So Vineri was the only one who had ever met her eyes when he spoke to her. And he – she snorted – he’d not been interested in women anyway, so he had never watched her with any hunger in his eyes.
But these three Brothers; they seemed to stare into her. It was as if she truly was important to them – not just her power, buther– and she didn’t understand it. There was nothing to her. There was nothing important about her save the power they needed, save what she could do for them. And yet … she looked down at the floor. Perhaps itwasjust convenience. They’d been on a journey. There hadn’t been many women at the inns they’d stayed at. Perhaps she merely scratched an itch.
She frowned, staring into her own eyes. The thought sent her spirits plummeting. Why she should be concerned what these three men thought of her she didn’t know. But she did care. How pathetic she was.
You threw yourself at the first three men you could, she thought.Yes, because they could touch you, the other side of her said.You’ve never had that before. It’s new and exciting.
She thought about Mal and Bastian’s hands on her, the way they made her feel. Her stomach fluttered and she wished they were here. She wondered what they would think of this disguise she was meant to wear on the morrow. Would they like it, she wondered? Or would they see her as little more than a woman whose services were bought and paid for? She grimaced. That was what Quin had offered, wasn’t it? She killed these three men and he released her from the binding and let her live out her life in peace … with gold. Couldn’t forget the gold. She was little better than a mercenary. Perhaps she really was one of them. Perhaps she was meant to be their Fourth.
Glancing back towards the door, she ran her hands down the flimsy silk once more. If it wasn’t for being so completely transparent, she would quite enjoy it. She’d never felt something so soft next to her skin. The way it glided across her body, she liked it. So had Quin.
She had thought that perhaps Quin might not leave when she asked. She’d wanted him to, of course. But there was another part of her that had sort of wished he had stayed, perhaps pushed her down on the bed and done some of the things with her that Bastian and Mal had already done.
What was it Bastian had said – that they couldn’t take her properly unless Quin did first? She wondered if he would. She wondered if she would try to stop him if he did. She wouldn’t, she realized, for she was as drawn to him as she was the other two. She just hadn’t wanted to admit it because of how he’d treated her.
She remembered those first hours in his tent when he had invited that man, that Rat, to attack her. Bite her. Then she thought of what he’d done afterwards, rubbing the salve into the wound, and she shivered. Though he had humiliated her in that moment, she had wanted him to do more then as well.
What sort of lover would Quin be? What sort did she want? When she’d naïvely thought of such things in her tower late at night, she had never imagined she would enjoy a man hurting her as Mal did, being so forceful with her, tying her up, making her spread her legs and holding her immobile as he did whatever he liked. Her breathing quickened. She did like these things. She didn’t know why she liked them, but she did. The thoughts she used to have back in her tower of sensuous, courtly, gentle lovers had been all but abandoned. Those thoughts did not make her feel the same pleasures, the same flutterings, as her memories of Bastian and Mal did.
Before she knew what she was doing, her hand was on the latch and she opened the door. She knew where Quin’s room was. She stole through the hall, bare feet making nary a sound on the floorboards, to Quin’s bedchamber. She didn’t knock and was grateful that he had not locked the door when it opened easily and she slipped inside his room.
She let the door close with a small sound and saw that he was sitting on his bed, his head in his hands, drinking wine. He looked up when she came in, and his eyes widened.
‘What are you doing here?’ he asked.
‘I don’t really know,’ she said, moving towards him slowly.
‘You should leave,’ he said aloud, yet his eyes pleaded with her to stay.
‘I know that I should,’ she replied, ‘but I don’t think that I can.’
She came to a stop in front of him and he looked up into her eyes.
