Page 14 of Stolen Fates
The maid took his hand in hers, catching his attention again, and drawing him near. The soft candlelight accentuated the contours of her heart-shaped face.
“How can I ever repay you?” Her lips curved into a demure smile, but the knowing glint in her eyes didn’t fool Nik. With a curvy figure and honey-coloured curls, she was certainly pretty.Prettier than any other woman who’d propositioned him since he’d stepped foot in Bruna.
Leaning closer, he braced his arm above her head. “How about you keep me company tomorrow night with a drink or two?”
“How about I keep you company now?” she countered, her fingers gliding down his bare arm.
Nik’s muscles flexed on instinct. He hadn’t felt a woman’s touch since summer, and he was tempted.
When he took too long to answer, she dropped her hand, her cheeks turning a pretty shade of pink. “Unless you don’t want to.” She glanced over her shoulder at the tavern’s back entrance. “In that case, I should return—”
He pressed closer and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “I want to. Gods, I want to, but my innkeeper was very clear in his stance regarding courtesans—”
“—I’m not a courtesan—”
“—or any other type of female companionship,” he finished, taking her small hand in his.
Her face lit up. “Well, in that case…”
Making sure no one had spotted them, she slipped under his arm and led him into the darkness, across the courtyard. Nik followed, anticipation curling inside his gut.
They reached a smaller building covered in grime and moss and with a crooked door. Not a sound filtered from within—it was either empty or its residents were asleep.
The woman whirled in his arms with a mischievous smile. “No one else is here.”
Then, her mouth was on his and Nik’s mind went blank as he savoured the kiss. Grabbing her by the hips, he pushed her up against the exterior wall and tangled his fingers into her thick mass of hair. Her hands clung to his tunic, her body melting against his.
When was the last time he’d indulged like this?
Far too long, he thought, as he pressed further against her, his hands sliding up her body and cupping her breasts. She moaned into his mouth, and it took Nik every ounce of self-control not to claim her against the wall.
“Inside,” he said against her mouth then stepped back, his laboured breaths mixing with hers.
Lust darkened her gaze and she turned to the door, pulling them both inside. Nik followed her to the first room behind a shoddy curtain and she hurried to light an oil lamp, followed by some candles. The room wasn’t dissimilar to his own back at the inn—a straw mattress against the wall, a table with a basin, and a few personal items strewn on a frayed rug.
The maid turned to him with a timid smile, and he claimed her mouth once more. Soon, her hands pulled at his clothes. He let her guide him to the mattress, tossing his sword belt out of the way and making quick work of his tunic. Her eyes widened at the Messenger’s shimmering Mark on his chest before she reached for him again. Their movements became more frantic, their bodies colliding in a mixture of moans, quickened breaths, and devouring kisses.
Nik lay back on the lumpy mattress, drawing the woman on top of him. She straddled his hips, her warm core shifting against his hardened length.
He groaned. “I don’t even know your name.”
Her honey-coloured tresses came undone, tumbling over her shoulders. Propped on one elbow, he weaved his fingers through her curls, his lips latching onto the soft skin of her neck.
“Julia.” She ran her nails down the hard ridges of his stomach before moving up to his chest and pushing him back against the mattress.
Nik went to grab her hips, but she circled his wrists, bringing them above his head.
Her boldness caught him by surprise, but he found it rather appealing. Playing along, he gave her a lazy smile. “And what do you plan to do with me now, Julia?”
The woman leaned forward, kissing him with renewed fervour. Her hair spilled from her shoulders like a silky curtain, obscuring Nik’s view. He caressed his tongue against hers and she moaned into his mouth.
In the next moment, something cold and stiff slipped around his wrist and clicked shut.
Nik froze.
Julia’s gaze darted to the burnished gold manacle now adorning his wrist, then she scrambled off the mattress.
“What the fuck?” Nik pulled at the manacle chained to the wall beside the mattress. He’d seen slavers use bronze ones to dampen a Gifted’s magic, but never gold before. When he called upon his Gift, nothing happened.
