Page 15 of The Physician's Barbarian
My hands explored his soft skin, taking in the muscle I hadn’t noticed before with his thin frame. He was not weak, my tribute. Nor was he shy when he truly got into it. His large hands ran down my chest, tweaking my nipples and tickling my abs before once again wrapping around my cock.
In a bid to ensure he enjoyed himself, I nudged his hand, guiding him to take us both. His grip was loose, uncertain, so I wrapped my hand around his, stroking our cocks together.
A startled groan punched from his chest, and his eyes flew open in surprise. I hummed my agreement, keeping the strokes light for the time being. With no oil between us, there was the risk of chafing, but I didn’t want to move too soon and make him nervous again. I waited until his hand was moving without my guidance, stroking us together, his breath puffing against my lips as he bit back his groans. I wanted to draw his voice out, to encourage him to make all the noise he wished. With that in mind, I reached behind me, snagging the oil from where I kept it. I didn’t want to keep it in my chest and have to dig it out each time I wanted intimacy, either alone or with a partner, so it was hidden near the bed easily within reach. I poured a good amount in my hand, taking over stroking our cocks with the slickness to ease the glide.
Ambrose’s head flew back, and he let out a shout of surprise, thrusting his cock into my oil-slicked hand. The feel of his cock against mine, the soft head rubbing against that sensitive spot just beneath the tip, would be my undoing. I struggled to keep my focus, stroking in time with his thrusts. My thighs shook from the strain of holding back, and I couldn’t take my eyes off of the gorgeous man in front of me. His eyes finally opened, and he looked down, seeming shocked that he was enjoying it as much as he was.
My hand slowed, too enamored with watching Ambrose’s reactions to keep up my rhythm. Ambrose noticed and took over, eyes glued to our cocks pressed together. His grip was tighter than mine, rougher, and my ability to hold back vanished as he picked up speed. I came with a cry, pressing my face against his neck as each stroke of his hand only drew out my release.
I was vaguely aware of Ambrose’s long groan, and my cock let out another valiant spurt when I felt his spend hit my skin. His hand slowed and eventually stopped, and when I shifted back to look at him, he looked stunned and… a little confused, if I was being honest.
Cupping his cheek with my clean hand, I murmured quietly, “You were amazing, Rokhandar. You did so well.”
He didn’t understand, but my tone was soothing, and he nodded slightly, his muscles relaxing as we caught our breath together. I cleaned us up, whispering little praises to ease his mind, and stealing kisses to remind him that he was safe with me. Or maybe because I just couldn’t resist his lips. When I stole another for the sixth time, he chuckled, and the change in his expression took my breath away.
Orthorr was going to be so angry with me. Because the more time I spent with this gorgeous healer, the harder it became for me to imagine letting him go. And when he smiled at me, I had to admit it to myself. I wasn’t ready to settle down until Ambrose arrived. Now, I was falling hard, and I wasn’t sure if I wanted to stop it.
Eleven
AMBROSE
Much like the first time, we were awoken by the sounds of the horses. Godr stopped long enough to sneak a kiss before hurrying out to deal with them. He left me alone in the mostly dark tent, thinking too much and blushing furiously as I remembered the night prior. That interaction had been… interesting. I hadn’t thought I’d enjoy it so much. And no amount of trying to convince myself it was only natural truly made any difference. I liked it. I wanted to do it again. And I had no idea what that meant. I’d never been interested in a man before now. It never even crossed my mind that I might like being intimate with one.
I had only ever been in one other relationship. Sebastian’s mother and I grew up together. I knew in my youth that I wanted to be with her, and she felt much the same. Thankfully, she came from a good family. My father saw it as a good match and encouraged it. Evie was still so young at that point, and our mother was still around to protect her, so I wasn’t worried about her as I focused on setting up my life with the woman Iloved. Alora stood by my side as I learned my trade, and she helped me set up my practice, making sure I was fed when I was working my ass off. Everything had been… perfect. Until it wasn’t anymore.
Mother died before we could tell her about Alora’s pregnancy. And Alora passed not long after during childbirth. Father became obsessed with his connections and forgot his children existed. I was all alone raising my son and my sister, who was old enough to understand and heartbroken at both losses. It was the two of them that kept me from giving up entirely when Alora died. I had to stay strong for what family I had left.
My interest in intimacy died the same night Alora did. I ignored any flirtatious advances I got from women hoping for the stability of my career or my family name. Father made some attempts to get me to remarry, but I ignored them all. I never wanted anyone but Alora. I thought I’d spend the rest of my life alone.
So then why was I having such strong reactions to Godr’s touch? I’d never had any interest in men before. I wasn’t even sure I did now. Except…
An image of Godr’s face twisted up in pleasure, the sounds of his moans, the memory of his cock rubbing against mine, all drifted through my mind. I had to bite my fist to curb the urge to stroke myself. It was all too much. I couldn’t think about it anymore, or I’d do something foolish like seek him out for a repeat. That wasn’t expected of me, as far as I knew. And the only reason I let it happen was because it was expected.
I could hear the lie in my head, but I refused to think too deeply about it. Forcing myself off the bed, I got dressed for the day and pulled on my boots. I found my glasses where Godr had tucked them carefully out of the way, shoving them up my nose. I was going to duck out and maybe seek out Zoya so I could checkon my patients, but I ran headlong into Patrick in my haste to escape the memories of the night prior, sending us both crashing to the ground.
“Patrick!” a voice filled with concern bellowed.
My head jerked up to see a barbarian with a dark expression stalking our way. Shit. I hadn’t meant to knock the man off his feet and cause an injury. I’d been too busy trying to escape my thoughts to pay attention to my surroundings.
“I’m so sorry,” I rushed out, scrambling off of him. The poor man had taken the brunt of the fall, and knowing that he sometimes relied on a cane, I felt even worse for knocking him down.
“I’m alright,” he reassured me, but his grimace said otherwise. He was hurt.
He rubbed the leg I’d noticed was injured the day before, sitting up with a frown. He said something to the barbarian who skidded to a stop by his side, dropping to his knees to check him over. He looked ready to lose it, and I could only stare helplessly as Patrick tried to talk him down.
“Ambrose?” Godr called out from the nearby pasture. My stomach dropped. The idea of upsetting him as well hurt worse than I expected. Would he believe me if I told him it was an accident?
He hurried to join us and knelt beside me, putting a warm hand on my shoulder and giving me a worried frown. I forced myself to ignore the flutter in my chest at his concern, giving my attention to Patrick.
“Can you show me where it hurts? I can probably make you something for the pain if I know what’s wrong,” I offered.
He made a few abortive attempts to bat the barbarian’s hand away before giving up and giving me an exasperated smile. “I’m really alright. It just tweaked a little when we fell. I’m sure with some rest I’ll feel fine.”
I assumed he repeated the same thing to the barbarian because the barbarian’s attempts to undress him to look at the injury ceased, though the hovering remained.
Patrick looked at the spilled basket beside us and winced. “Yamileth will be cross…”
“It’s my fault,” I argued, worried that he’d be punished by whoever Yamileth was because of my mistake. “I ran into you. You shouldn’t take the blame. I won’t let them hurt you because of me and my stupid?—”
