Page 143 of Between Fear and Favor

“I hope it’s not a story about Iemis,” I said, frowning. Instantly drawn back into thoughts of the antler god and what we’d almost unleashed upon the world spoiled my improving mood. Rain finally loosened the ribbon pulling my stays tight. I took a deep breath in, pleased to not be so constricted, and he grew greedy. Without the stays in his way, he tugged at my clothing, rough enough I feared he would rip it, and exposed one of my breasts. I wondered if he was so enthusiastic because he felt my irritation over the entombed god.

He shook his head, answering my question, before gently taking my nipple between his teeth. I couldn’t contain my whimper as he nipped at my tender flesh. He began licking and laving my exposed skin, and his gaze caught mine. Though I couldn’t make out their emerald green color in the moonlight, nor see the flecks of gold I’d remembered in my dreams, I knew just how beautiful they were. And I was lucky enough to find myself a recipient of such an adoring look from such a good man.

When he pulled the thin garment down my shoulders, and opened it as far as he could at the neck, I pressed my head back into the clover. Closing my eyes, I willed myself to forget all the bad—just for a moment. I didn’t want to think about Iemis and the Supreme and Nereza’s impending favor from the gods. All I wanted to think about was Rain and his reverent touch.

He slipped his hand beneath me, tugging at the button on my skirt and the ties of my petticoat.

“Gods, why are there so many layers?” he mumbled, and a laugh bubbled out of me as I lifted my hips.

“Never wear this many layers again,” he said, and I aided him in his task. “I demand it as king. A royal decree. No queen of Vesta shall ever make herself so inconvenient to disrobe.”

“Do you plan on having another queen?” I asked, teasing, as he pulled my skirt off.

“Perhaps—if you don’t tell me what that constellation is, Highclere.”

Taunting me, he made quick work of my petticoat. My chemise was all that was left, and he lifted the hem higher and higher, revealing more and more bare skin.

“That’s not my name,Vestana,” I retorted, staring up at the night sky. His fingertips ran up the length of my leg, pebbling my skin. Though the cool night air felt nice after such a warm day, the anticipation of what his touch might lead to sent a shudder through me.

Rubbing his hand up my thigh, he squeezed, his fingers dimpling my flesh. Bending down, lips hovering over mine, he allowed his mouth to brush against me—so soft and far too briefly. “Perhaps I should cut this from your body for your impudence,” he teased, fingertips playing with the drawstring, and as I brushed my lips against his once more, the answer dawned on me.

“Ivan’s ax,” I said, and Rain smiled against my mouth.

“And he used it to?” he prompted, kissing me softly. Insatiable, I savored him. If he could provide comfort to my soul, tender from so much heartache, I should take it.

“Was it the Folterran queen?” I asked, sighing as he slowly moved down my body to kiss at my neck and my chest—lower, as he slid my chemise down my arms. Grasping the fabric, he tugged it down my body. I shifted to accommodate his motions as I struggled to remember the exact details of the tale.

“Not Folterra, but Skos—ahovvikei,” he said, before pressing his lips between my breasts and down my stomach and around my navel. I could lose myself in his attention. Perhaps he was only distracting me from the quickly approaching future. Perhaps he knew how tormented I’d been—each decision I’d made felt like the wrong one. I’d harmed so many innocent people because of my choices or my inaction, and their blood would forever stain my hands. Between the uncertainty and guilt, I was being eaten alive.

“What’s that?” I asked as he moved farther down my body. I didn’t care if there was an ulterior motive behind his adoring touch. Because his motivation for whatever he did was always the same.

His love for me was unending, and he’d proven that time and time again. He’d done whatever he could to protect me. He might have claimed it was to save the Three Kingdoms or that my safekeeping ensured the greater good. But what I knew in my heart, what I’d always known in my heart, was that Rainier had spent most of his life loving me far more deeply than I ever thought I could deserve.

And perhaps he’d begun to convince me I was worth it.

“His queen—ahovvikei—made as such from a vote by the people,” he said. “Forced to marry her, he...” Rain trailed off, hovering over far more sensitive skin. Grinning up at me, he waited for me to finish the tale.

“He cut her dress open with his ax to disgrace her in front of their clan,” I said, gently reaching down and pushing my fingers through his curls. Throbbing, my clit ached for his touch, but I stilled the urge to push my hips toward him.

“And?” Rain asked, pressing a soft kiss to the juncture of my thigh.

“And she walked—naked and proud—to their longhouse,” I whispered, as his lips moved to the other leg. And I knew then what he would ask of me.

“What next, dear heart?” he asked, pressing a delicate kiss right above my clit.

“She made him beg,” I said, and then he kissed me in the same spot once more—feather light—and didn’t move. I didn’t hesitate to give him what he wanted. “Please, Rain.”

His warm breath heated my skin, and he allowed his lips to tickle me as he spoke. It was pure torment. “You seemed to have forgotten so much of what I taught you. If you want me to bring you pleasure, you have to work for it.”

“What do you want me to do?” I breathed, eager to do whatever he asked.

“I am a generous husband,” he said, pressing a swift kiss to my clit. I whined, thrusting my hips toward him, wishing I could control myself. “Name the constellations you can see, and I’ll make you come on my face.”

“Teleria,” I shouted, and he laughed before tugging my clit into his mouth. Moaning, I arched my back and spread my legs for him. He settled comfortably between them, hooking an arm around my thigh and using his fingertips to spread me and give him better access. His other hand slid up my thigh, and grabbed my hip—squeezing.

I writhed beneath him as he applied pressure to my clit, pulling it between his lips. It verged just on this side of pain, the sensation spreading throughout my body. I was already close, certain I was wet enough he’d find no resistance if he slid into me.

When he stopped, I’d already forgotten the task he’d set.

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