Page 39 of While Angels Slept
“You cannot go to the kitchen,” he reminded her with a whisper. “I will go and bring some food to you both.”
She nodded. “And do not forget to collect Val.”
He sighed heavily. “Madam, would that I have enjoyed my time alone with you, for I fear I shall not be able to survive until our next encounter. The strain will be more than I can bear.”
“You will have to unless you can think of a better sleeping arrangement. We do not want an audience.”
With a grin, Tevin tossed back the bedding and Cantia stood up, a little unsteadily at first and they both laughed. Her legs were slightly sore from the strenuous morning. But in the soft glow of daylight, Tevin had a full view of her delicious body and he was not disappointed. She was soft, round, and perfect in every way. Watching her heart-shaped bottom cross the room to collect her shift had him licking his lips at the sight of her. His heart was thumping loudly against his ribs, his breathing doing strange things.
Shift in hand, Cantia wandered near the bed in preparation for dressing and he abruptly reached out, taking her by the waist with his enormous hands and shoving his face into her belly. Cantia giggled softly as he nipped at her and kissed her flesh, but her giggles soon turned to moans of pleasure when his hands moved to her buttocks and his mouth began to tease the soft mound of curls between her legs.
“Tevin,” her legs were growing weaker and she struggled to stop him. “Not now. Hunt is waiting.”
His response was to gently shove her backwards on the bed. Cantia tried to leap up again but his big hands were on her, holding her down as he wedged his head and shoulders between her legs. His tongue was exploring her intimate pink folds and she had not the strength to resist. With her shift shoved into her mouth to bite of her screams, she experienced release after release at his expert tongue.
Twice, Hunt yelled at her from the other side of the door and she breathlessly quieted him. In her lust, she remembered thinking that she was glad he was only five years old and would not wonder why his mother sounded so winded. When Tevin was done with her and she lay satisfied, boneless and limp, he ran his tongue up her belly, to her breasts, and pulled her up to sit by the arms.
“Get up now,” he grinned as she fell back over on the bed and he pulled her up again. “Your starving son is waiting and I must go retrieve his meal.”
She started to fall over again, laughing when he put his enormous hands on her shoulders to hold her steady. The lavender eyes lolled open, twinkling at him.
“I do not believe that I can stand.”
He laughed softly. “You’ll have to. I must dress and I cannot do that and hold you upright at the same time.”
She wrinkled her nose at him, grinning, and it was his signal to let go and hunt down his clothes. He found his breeches, his boots, and finally his tunic, pulling them on in that order. The entire time, Cantia sat on the bed, nude, and watched him. As he pulled the tunic over his head, he caught her staring at him.
“Sweetheart, get dressed,” he urged softly. “I must open the door and I should not like for your son to see you stark naked. He might spread vicious gossip and rumors.”
She smiled dreamily, watching him push the copper curls from his eyes. “Why do men fear you so? Since I have known you, I have seen nothing to warrant that reputation. You are one of the sweetest, kindest and gentlest men I have ever met.”
He lifted his big shoulders. “With you, I certainly would not want to display any behavior that suggestion destruction or death,” he said. “On the field of battle, or with my men, my behavior is… different.”
“Howdifferent?”
He glanced up at her. “Look at me. Do I not look brutal and big? Frightening, even? I assure you, the reputation is well earned and I am proud of it. It has served me well. In fact, my brother was the one who would tell war stories of my skill to any and all who would listen. He said there was no one in heaven or earth who could best me on the field of battle.”
“What was your brother’s name?”
“Torston.”
“You said that he died. When did he die?”
Tevin thought back on his younger, taller, and more volatile brother. He had been a quick wit, a brilliant study, and far too rash. He missed him terribly. “In a skirmish four years ago,” he said. “My father had been mortally wounded and when my brother went to aid him, he was cut down as well.”
“Oh,” Cantia was saddened at the thought. “I’m sorry for you. How old was he?”
“He had seen twenty-five years.” He approached the bed, waving his big hands at her. “Cantia, hurry and dress.”
She started, as if she had completely forgotten that she needed to put her clothes on, and quickly pulled her shift over her head. The emerald surcoat lay at her feet where Tevin had ripped it from her body and she picked it up, tossed it over a chair, and went to the massive wardrobe against the wall. Opening the doors, the smile suddenly disappeared from her face. Tevin, fussing with the tie of his breeches, noticed she had come to a halt. He glanced over at her, realizing there were tears in her eyes.
He went to her. “What’s wrong, sweet?”
She shook her head, blinking away the tears. “’Tis… only that Brac’s clothes are still here. I keep forgetting. I must remove them.”
Tevin looked at the jumble of garments, tunics and leather breeches and pieces he did not recognize. “You do not have to remove them until you are ready.”
She looked at him, the light of surprise in her eyes. “Do you think I am not ready? Do you think I would have carried on with you all night as we did if I was not ready?”
