Page 72 of By the Horns
“Well, that’s reassuring,” she jokes.
“Actually, I’ve got something for you,” I say, indicating she should follow me into the weapons room. Jay will probably lay an egg when he sees what I’ve acquired, but I plan on having a talk with him anyhow. Just because Gwenna’s a woman doesn’t mean she shouldn’t be given the tools to succeed. Her wrists are more delicate, her build different. If Kipp can use shorter weapons because of his height, she should be allowed to use a special sort of weapon to accommodate her more delicate bone structure. Luckily, I’m two steps ahead of Jay in that department.
Her expression grows wary. “It had better not be an artifact.”
I laugh at that, shaking my head. “It is, but it’s not magical. I pulled it from the guild’s weapons locker, so no one is going to get mad at you for having it. Old Prell had women warriors, and they fought with much lighter weapons than those the men used. Clubbing someone with something takes less skill than using a sword, so I thought a morning star might be perfect for you.”
“A morning star?” Gwenna echoes, following me as I head into the training room.
“It’s a club that has a spiky, bulbous end. You swing that and no one will get in your way. No need to be precise.” I pull it out of the trunk that I’ve been hiding it in so Hemmen or Arrod wouldn’t claim it first. “I found one on a dig once, one with magical charges still. It was the prettiest, shiniest thing I’d ever seen, and it looked like a star on the end of a stick.” The image of it still haunts me, and the gut-clench feeling of having to turn it over to the guild to be promptly sold to some fat, rich holder.
“It sounds lovely.”
I grunt. “This one isn’t. It’s ugly as sin, but it’s lightweight and beat to hell. There’s no magic left in it, and it was left in the training common room, so that means it’s free game.”
She hesitates. “I don’t want anyone to think I’m thieving….”
“They’d have to get through me first,” I growl. When she manages a tiny smile, I continue. “I already logged that I was taking it anyhow. Here, let me show it to you.”
I move to the trunk and pull the weapon out. It’s as light as a baton, the bulbous head of it battered and even dented in one part. The grip has been refreshed with leather bindings, and there are a few fat spikessticking up from the rounded end. I hold it out to her, expecting her to wrinkle her nose at just how ugly the thing is. It doesn’t have the shine of a sword. It’s tarnished all over, but it’ll kill a ratling just the same.
Gwenna takes it from me, and her eyes widen as she hefts it. “It’s so light!”
“Aye, I thought it’d be perfect for you and those delicate wrists.”
She gives it a test swing and then smiles widely. “This is incredible.” Her gaze slides to me. “My wrists might be delicate, but they still do the job.”
“Never said they didn’t.” By the old bull, I’m still thinking about her hand on my cock.
Gwenna runs her hand over the fat end of the morning star, trailing a finger down its surface. “This is a wonderful present, Raptor. Thank you.”
My name. It sounds bloody amazing coming from those sweet lips of hers. How is it I haven’t heard her say it very often? That needs to change. “It’s not a gift. It’s me thinking of my Five.”
She teases her finger over the blunt spike on the head of the thing. “Are you always only concerned about your Five, then? When you think of me?”
“Hardly mucking ever. You know I’m thinking of you.” I’m practically growling the words at her, leaning one hand on the wall and looming over her smaller form.
“Mmm. I don’t know if I believe you.” There’s a flirty tone in her voice, a playful look in her eyes as she gazes up at me.
“You don’t think I’m obsessed with you?” Is she mad? Has she not noticed how obsessed I am? I’m all but slavering for just a hint of her attention. When she moves to toy with the spike again, I grab her hand and press it against my rigid cock. “What does that tell you?”
“It tells me that you’ve got a big fat cock,” she whispers, and licks her lips. “And that you need it played with.”
I all but wheeze when she strokes her hand along the outline of my shaft. “I wouldn’t let anyone play with it but you, Gwenna. I’d rather hump my fist.”
“No need to be dramatic.” She slides her hand lower, cupping my sac through my clothes. “I feel like saying thank you to you.”
For some reason, those words irk me. “I’m not interested in a thank-you.”
“What are you interested in, then?”
“Pleasure.” I use my weight to push her back against the wall and press the morning star between our chests. The longer stem of it pushes against her hips and she squeaks in surprise, her eyes widening as she gazes up at me. I take it from her grip and press the handle against the vee between her thighs and then rub it against the fat mound of her cunt, through her clothing.
Her eyes flutter with arousal, and a moment later, her scent permeates the air. “Oh…you…”
“Me. Aye. I want to see you come first. Then you can work my cock all you like.” It’s the rutting bull inside me that’s taking control, getting possessive and demanding. I want to make her come. I want to make her remember this moment. I want to sear it into her mind.
With the hilt of the morning star in my grasp, I push it against her cunt, parting her folds and rubbing the end of it against her. Her mouth falls open and I brush her lower lip with my thumb.
