Page 42 of Company of Thieves
NINE
Before going to ourtemporary home, I made a brief stop at the tiny tent Alan had set up for my use as a private toilet, for which I was infinitely grateful, since the rest of his company simply used open latrines.
“Thanks for being my bodyguard,” I told Az when he escorted me back to our temporary digs. Beyond the row of tents, I could see Alan still sitting at the long table, talking to his father and Etienne.
“It is my pleasure,” he said in his deep, thickly accented voice. “I will guard the falcon’s dove with my life.”
“The falcon. Is that what you call Alan?”
“Aye,” he answered, making a little bow in Alan’s direction. “Since he was a young boy, he has ever had a fondness for birds, and spent many a long hour in with the falconer, learning his ways.”
“Interesting. It explains why he has bird decorations everywhere. Well, thank you again. I appreciate you taking the trouble to follow me around. Good night.”
He held open the flap for me, waiting until I lit an oil lamp before dropping it. I had a quick wash, brushed my teeth with the repulsive tooth powder I’d bought in town, and got into bed with Leila’s book, wondering how long the imperator would keep Alan, and how hard the former was going to fight to get Alan to marry the duchess.
I remembered hearing about her from Jack. She was set to marry William the day we were going to be hung for treason, but then the Moghuls attacked, and evidently the wedding was delayed. I guess they called it off after that. I had no idea why, and frankly, I didn’t care so long as Constanza kept her grubby hands off Alan.
The question was, could Alan outright defy his father? “If he can’t, it’ll be over for us,” I told the book, not seeing the words on the pages. “I won’t be anyone’s bit of fluff on the side, not even Alan’s. Oh, goddess, why is everything so horribly tangled up?”
I resigned myself to a long night, one filled with doubts and worry and heartache.
Warmth at my back woke me up. I froze for a moment at the feel of something pressed against me, my brain muzzy with a disturbing dream. “Alan?”
“Did you think I would never return?” he murmured, one hand around my front, caressing my breasts, the other sliding down to my hip, and lower to my thigh. “My father enjoys hearing himself talk, but even he has limits.”
“What time is it?” I asked, arching when his hand stroked up my thigh, and teased flesh that was more than happy to wake up and party with him.
“About three hours from dawn. My father wishes to go hunting once the sun is up, but I must have you before I leave.”
“I like the sound of that ... whoa. New position? This is ... oooh!”
Alan pulled my upper leg back over his, positioning my hips so that they were tilted, giving him access to where he knew he would find a welcome, and welcome him I did when he eased into me. “I’m sorry, love, but all I could do was think of you while that Etienne droned on and on. I know you said you were fast, but perhaps you’re not—”
“Oh, yes I am. I so very am. Do it now. Right now,” I moaned, desperately wanting to turn so I could touch him, feel him against my chest, but at the same time enjoying this new angle. He seemed to reach places that he’d never touched before. “I think ... oh, god yes to the hip swivel ... I think you found my G-spot. Holy hamsters, yes, that’s definitely it.”
“I don’t know what that is, but since you seem to enjoy it—” His hips flexed with strong, piercing movements, his hand on my abdomen, pulling my hips to him with every thrust. He built an amazing pressure inside of me, one that seemed to make my whole body tighten around just one point, the fullness of him combined with the different angle hitting all the sensitive spots inside pushing me inexorably into an orgasm that had me tightening all my muscles in spasms of absolute pleasure.
Alan groaned my name as he, too, found his release, pressing deep into me a couple of times, which was enough to generate little aftershocks in me.
“So, that position gets an A plus from me,” I said, turning so I could kiss him, his lips warm and sweet. “Mmm. You’ve been drinking mead.”
“My father favors it,” he said, pulling me close, his chest drawing me in as it always did. “And yes, that is now a favorite position. I hadn’t tried it before, but we will add it to the list of preferred methods of lovemaking.”
“It’s right up there with orange oil in the bathtub. Do you have to go hunting in the morning? If it’s so close to dawn, you’ll only get a few hours of sleep.”
“Unfortunately, yes. It is something my father enjoys, and he requested it specifically. Are you going to yell at me now about Constanza?”
I smiled against his mouth, nipping his lower lip. “You know me so well. I won’t yell, but I do want to ask you one thing.”
“No,” he said, pulling me against him. “I do not want to wed her.”
