Page 5 of Rules of Stone
“I’ll get you new ones.” The sound of ripping silk swallows River’s words, the room’s cool air brushing my exposed skin for a moment before his muscular body settles atop mine.
River frees himself in one practiced movement, the thick head of his engorged cock coating itself in my wetness. Even after all these months, the size of him sends ripples of warning through my body, my channel already tasting the stretch—the fullness—to come. Gripping my thighs in an undeniable hold, River finds my eyes as he positions himself at my entrance, his eyes shining with desire and conquest. Savoring my anxious anticipation, the bastard.
“I’ll murder you in your sleep,” I warn through clenched teeth, my empty, empty sex clenching around nothingness while the thoroughly aroused apex sends zinging pulses down to my toes.
River’s teeth flash, the power of him suddenly filling every inch of air in the room. Five centuries of battle-honed muscles, of leading the realm’s greatest warriors, all flash in reminder of who exactly stands between my open thighs. “Just for that…” The warning in River’s voice shoots through me a moment before he lowers his mouth right atop my bud andsucks.
My whole body tightens, the pleasure mounting so fast and hard that it turns to liquid agony and back, a bow stretching further and further and—
River stops.
No. No. No. My body trembles in anticipation, in the all-consuming need to release that tautly pulled bow. I buck desperately, come up against River’s unyielding hold, and finally whimper.
With a pleased chuckle, River sheathes himself inside me, his thickness everything I wanted and feared. In and back, in and back, the powerfulthrust thrust thrustof his cock gathers all the needy nerves inside me. My heart quickens, my breath coming in little pants while my eyes see nothing but the strong line of River’s jaw and the flex of corded muscle beneath his well-cut tunic.
Thrust thrust thrust.
River’s shaft pulses, my channel clenching around it. Every fiber in my lower body screams, feeling the approaching abyss. This time, my wild, needy, desperate bucking is beyond my control. But not beyond River’s, who holds my thighs with unyielding command.
Thrust, thrust…
The explosion of pleasure rakes through my body, lighting every nerve. Anguish so fierce, it is pure bliss. My muscles tighten, my sex clenches, my vision blurs. Tumbling into the great abyss inside me, I feel River’s own release filling my channel and realize the warrior is trembling as badly as I am.
* * *
There are four wrapped bundles,in addition to Autumn, Kora, and the males, waiting for me in the stables the following morning. Settling my saddlebags beside Sprite, the dapple-gray mare River gifted me with when I first came to Lunos, I study the gathering suspiciously. “What’s happening?”
“We—” Autumn starts, then rolls her eyes at the males and picks up one of the larger bundles, thrusting it into my arms. “Ithought that your first official mission as a quint warrior was worth celebrating. So, here. This is from me.”
“Wasn’t dethroning King Griorgi the first?” I ask.
“No. That was housekeeping.” Autumn nods at the package that I unwrap to reveal a gown of soft red silk, a matching shawl completing the look. “Dress in this before you put on the veil and enter the Academy, all right?” She pulls her own shimmering silver wrap more tightly around her slender shoulders and looks down, suddenly finding its woven edge endlessly fascinating. Her eyes glisten slightly in the morning sun. “The veil can’t make you a chamber-pot girl in that. At least I don’t think it can. I—”
I throw my arms around my friend, who hugs me back fiercely, letting go only when Kora puts a comforting arm on Autumn’s shoulder, drawing her lover away.
“Thank you.” I kiss Autumn’s cheek before looking up at her brother, who holds his package with uncharacteristic hesitation. Taking River’s gift, I unwrap the paper gingerly and feel my chest tighten at the intricate handiwork. Four cords in different sparkling shades of gold woven together into a braid, the pendent hanging from them a complex knot of the same strands. I look closer and gasp in recognition. One strand is studded with amethysts—Coal’s strange purple magic; one with deep brown-red garnets—River’s earth magic; one with yellow-orange diamonds—Tye’s fire; and one with gleaming silver—Shade’s healing. “The cords of your four magics plaited together with my weaver’s gift,” I whisper, running my fingers over the priceless piece. “This must have taken the jeweler months.”
River shrugs one massive shoulder, but there is a bit of color in his cheeks when I turn to let him fasten the treasure around my neck.
Shade steps up next, his package holding a pair of gray mittens. Inhaling the wool’s familiar earthy scent, I narrow my eyes at the shifter. “Where exactly did you get these?”
A flash of light has a wolf replacing the male, the animal’s long tongue licking the tip of his nose virtuously. Now that I’m paying closer attention, I see the wolf’s shortened coat and wince. “How many weavers did you bite in the making of these mittens?” I ask.
“Four,” Autumn informs me dryly. “Two of them submitted resignations.”
The wolf, suddenly finding a tree in need of careful sniffing, trots off while Tye hands me the heaviest package yet. Instead of paper, this one is wrapped in sturdy cloth, rolled up tightly and buckled closed. He winks as I take it, making my heart beat faster. He’s ridiculously handsome in his fitted leather riding pants and billowing white shirt, opened at the collar to reveal the muscled flare of his pectorals. And he knows it. I roll my eyes, making him grin wider.
Laying the bundle on a nearby tree stump, I unroll it carefully and stare at the thin polished instruments. No. No, it can’t be. “Are these…”
“Lockpicks,” Tye supplies helpfully. “Aye.”
River curses.
“These are…” I struggle to find the right word. “Gorgeous” doesn’t seem to fit the objects and “a sure way to get arrested” doesn’t fit the mood. “High-quality tools of a trade I don’t quite know.”
Tye sighs gravely. “I was afraid of that. I will have to teach you, then, lass.” His emerald eyes sparkle. “Though I must warn you, I’m a very hands-on type of instructor.”
I snap the kit closed very quickly, then stuff it into my saddlebag. When I step away, I find Coal’s blue eyes watching me from the side. Five fae and four packages. Coal isn’t the type for sentimentality. I nod my understanding at him.
