Page 29 of Lhora
Rolling onto his side, he tried to see her face, but there was no light. The fire had gone out, and the glow from the moons had yet to reach the windows. But he could sense little tremors going through her, and Duren realized the room was rapidly becoming chilled.
Easing away from her, he got out of bed and drew the furred blanket that was folded at the foot over her. He padded to the windows to shutter them before returning to the fireplace to add more fuel. As the fire blazed back to life, he went to the lav to relieve himself and returned to the bed.
Lhora adjusted herself in her sleep, but he wasn’t tired anymore. In truth, he wanted to plug her again. He wanted to feel her consuming him from his very root, the way she’d done earlier. But he couldn’t bring himself to wake her. She was exhausted from the strain of the past few days. From being kidnapped, the battle with the Tra’Mell, and her imprisonment. She deserved to rest. She’d earned her rest, even as his hunger for her gnawed at him.
What happened in the shower, Lhora?he silently questioned her.What happened between us? What did you do to me? I’ve had other women. None had been Beinight, I confess. But what we shared, what we experienced… Is it that way for your people? When you share your bodies, is what we felt that way for you all the time? Because if it is, I must have you again. I have to feel your body swallowing me as I sink into your depths. I want to drown in you again.
He angrily corrected himself. No, he didn’t want to drown in her again. He wanted to drown in her over and over. He wanted to succumb to her body not just tonight, but tomorrow, and the day after. And the day after that. And next month. Next year.
For the rest of our lives.
He reared back, almost falling off the bed. No. He didn’t mean that. He didn’t want her in his life. For one thing, he couldn’t. His father wouldn’t allow it. The people of Coltross wouldn’t accept it. They wouldn’t accept her, a Beinight.
I could take her as a mistress. As one of my concubines.
As soon as that thought entered his mind, he dismissed it. There was something about this woman that made her different from all others. A difference that made her special. She was unique, but he couldn’t precisely pinpoint how or why.
It must have something to do with her being a Beinight.
Lhora softly cried out in her sleep. He watched as she frowned and mumbled something, as though she was arguing with someone. Small worry lines appeared in her forehead. She shuddered again, and he realized she wasn’t arguing. She was fearful. She was having a nightmare.
“Lhora?” Grasping her shoulder, he gently shook her.
She suddenly lashed out at him. He stopped her before she had the chance to harm him or herself. She tried to jerk away from his grasp, when she bolted upright. Confusion, then clarity came over her features.
He sat up. “Are you all right?”
Her shoulders slumped as she collected herself. “Yes.”
“You were dreaming.”
“I guess I was.” She glanced down at her nakedness, then over at the windows. “What time is it?”
“I don’t know, and I don’t care.”
Her gaze flashed back to him. She was studying him, watchful and…fearful.
Duren put a little distance between them to help ease her mind. “Are you thirsty? Would you like something to drink?”
“Drink?”
Giving her a wink, he rolled away from the bed and went over to a small chest sitting underneath one of the windows. Lifting the lid, he extracted two mugs and a skin, taking them back to the bed. He unstoppered the skin and held a mug over the floor as he poured.
“Here.” He handed the mug to her.
“What is it?” Lhora sniffed the contents, then tentatively stuck her tongue inside. “Is this bassil?”
“Aged more than three years.” He poured a mug for himself, then set the skin on the floor. He watched her over the rim of his cup as she sipped the fermented brew. She was aware of him scrutinizing her.
“Are you trying to get me drunk?”
“What good would it do me?” He paused with the cup at his lips. “Wouldit do me any good?”
“What would be the point? You’ve already plugged me,” she stated flatly.
Sighing, he took a hardy swig. They continued to drink in silence that was surprisingly not uncomfortable. There was no tension. No anticipation of what might or might not follow when they were finished with their drinks.
His eyes dropped to the mark that wrapped around her left arm. Lhora noticed where his attention was focused.
