“My lady. Art thou well? Have I wounded thee?”
“I’m fine, but I can’t believe you said cunt.”
I expected him to apologize, but he said, kind of defensively, “’Tis a good English word,” which made me start laughing again. I was definitely still buzzed.
I rolled onto my side to look at him. He was kneeling there, looking at me, and for once I knew exactly what he was thinking. He was taking inventory of what he wanted to do to me.
“I don’t mind if you say cunt,” I said. Honestly, I could respect a man who would drop the c-word while his hand was in it.
“I would do more than say it.”
“Then come here and do it.”
Finally, I got him to lie down with me. So there wouldn’t be any confusion about whether he had permission, I opened my legs for him, and he went straight for it with his sword hand. Two fingers in me and his thumb digging into that little cushion of fat over my pubic bone. Holy fuck, he had a grip on him.
We went round and round for I don’t know how long, before he unlaced his pants, and I actually got him in me.
Too much.
During one of those too much minutes, lying next to each other, breathing hard, not touching, I realized I was waiting for him to say yea. I wasn’t waiting for it to be over, like I usually did with men. I was waiting for his mouth to come back to mine. My skin felt flushed and prickly. Ready.
“Now?” I said.
“Nay, my lady.” He had his face buried in the pillow and his voice was hoarse. Where his hand was lying between us, every time I inhaled, the little hairs on his knuckles brushed against my belly.
He turned over to face me and opened his eyes.
Shifting his hand, he traced his thumb from my hip bone down the front of my thigh to my knee. I went goosebumps all over. When I rolled onto my back, he followed, kissing me. I took his hand and put it between my legs, because we kept circling back to that moment when I was the sword.
I was so close to getting off—something that almost never happened for me with men—that I didn’t know what to do. Except I didn’t want it to be over yet, so I said, “Wait.” That way I could lie next to him, feeling him waiting. His breath was warm on my shoulder when he said, “Now?” but I waited a little longer before I said yes.
When I came, he had his mouth against mine, but we were breathing so hard it wasn’t really a kiss.
After that, I wanted what I always wanted: a few minutes to be inside my body by myself. When I pushed Gentry’s hand away, he let me go. We laid there next to each other for a couple minutes, and I felt this quiet calm, like I hadn’t felt in ages. I stretched and my hip popped.
He wasn’t done, but I wasn’t sure if he wanted to be or not.
“Do you want me to?” I didn’t offer anything, because I figured he could show me what he wanted. Instead, he started stroking himself off, which I understood. Sometimes it was easier to take care of yourself. After a little bit, he reached over and put his left hand on top of mine, so we held hands while he jerked off. I thought that was sweet, but I wondered what the hag, the nag, and the douchebag had to say about it.
CHAPTER 27
Gentry
While the sky was still dark on Sunday morn, I lit the fire and cooked that Lady Zhorzha and I might break our fast. I made small bread with eggs and ham baked upon them, and brewed coffee. I meant not to wake her, but ere ’twas ready, she rose and came forth from my pavilion.
“Hey,” she said.
“Good morrow, my lady.”
She came to the fire, near enough that I smelled her warmth and saw the red marks of sleep on her arms. Lo all the uncertainty I spent my night hours upon departed as quick as mist under the sun.
“Art thou hungry?”
“I could eat,” she said. “But I need to pee first.”
“I left thee a pot for such matters.”
“Yeah, no. I’m not gonna pee in a pot and have you empty it. Can I just go squat in the woods like any self-respecting bear?”
“Yea, Lady Bear, as it pleaseth thee.”
She laughed and betook herself into the trees. When she returned, I poured the water I had heated that she might wash. Then I whetted my blade and made to shear the night’s beard.
“You’re seriously going to shave with that big knife?” she said.
“Yea, but ’tis only a middling knife.”
She seated herself near me, and I was uneaseful under her gaze.
“Okay, if that’s how you shave, what the heck are you doing to your hair? I’ve been wanting to ask that for as long as I’ve known you.”
My hairs weren too recent cut short, but I acted it for her. I clutched a handful where it grew upon my crown and made as though to pass my blade twixt head and hand. She laughed so that I dared not look upon her, for the firelight gilded the shape of her breast and roused flames in mine own bosom.
“The sound of scissors ’pon my head liketh me not,” I said.
“Okay. That explains a lot.”
Our ablutions finished, I took our repast from the fire.
“If it thee liketh, we might break our fast atop the hill and see the sunrise.”
“Let me put some clothes on,” she said, for tho she was warm next the fire, the morning was chill.
“My cloak hangeth in the pavilion, if thou wilt wear it.”
Lady Zhorzha drew it over her chemise and laced her shoes, while I packed our meal in a basket. Upon the hill, I spread the blanket and we ate in quiet but good fellowship. In the east, the sun painted the sky in red. All was still but for the stirrings of deer and turkeys, and only a whisper of smoke rising from the trees revealed our camp below.
“Do you come out here every weekend?” she said.
“As oft as I may, but less than I wish. For my lord Bombardier requireth much of me, and my mother and sister needen me. And thee, my lady.”
“You don’t have to look out for me all the time. In the last two years, I only desperately needed your help like twice.”
“’Tis no hardship that I should see thee every day,” I said.
To my perplexity, she laughed.
“I jest not, my lady. To hold thee in my protection is both duty and pleasure.”
“I wish LaReigne was under someone’s protection. It makes me crazy not knowing where she is or if she’s safe. The marshals act like if she had a relationship with this guy, she’s safe. Like those aren’t exactly the guys who kill you.”