across her lips, neck, breasts, her free hand once again slipping down between Ashlinn’s legs, rolling back and forth across her soaking lips. Pushing herself up onto her knees, Mia swung around, straddling Ashlinn’s face. And slowly,
ever so slowly,
“O, Goddess, yes,” Ash whispered.
she lowered herself down onto Ashlinn’s waiting mouth.
“O, fuck,” she groaned, shivering as she felt Ashlinn’s tongue tracing burning circles, over and around and finally inside, hands clawing her arse. Mia’s hips moved of their own accord, fingers roaming across her own skin, touching and teasing, plucking at her aching nipples, her thighs shaking. Her lashes fluttered against her cheeks, head drifting back as Ashlinn’s lips and tongue and fingers set her body humming, exploring her softest place, that dark, wondrous flame building inside her again.
Mia opened her eyes, looked to her lover below her, wanting not only to be tasted but to taste in kind. Ash groaned as Mia dipped her head between her parted legs, wrapped her arms around her thighs, and sank her tongue into her depths. The sweetest nectar on her tongue, their mouths moving in time now, each moan sending vibrations through Mia’s whole body and making her moan in turn.
Their struggles ceased. Their battle won. They were a song, then, the pair of them. A perfect duet, old as eons, deep as the dark between the stars. Not making war, but making love, sweet and deep and perfect, hands and lips and bodies, sighs and moans and shivers, skin to skin to skin. Prolonging the honeyed, blissful torture as long as they could stand, dripping with sweat, breathless and panting and burning white-hot, each in tune. Never wanting it to end. Never or ever.
And finally,
after a blissful age,
lost utterly in time,
when they let it go and finally came,
each girl whispered the other’s name.
CHAPTER 24
MAJESTY
She was still naked when they kicked in the door.
Mia woke to the ring of heavy footfalls, hackles rising down her back. But she was only reaching for her britches when the boot splintered the frame, the door smashing inward on its hinges. She was up and rolling across the floor in a heartbeat, drawing her gravebone blade from its scabbard. Ash dragged her sword from beneath her pillow, stood on the bed, freckled skin bare, weapon drawn.
Four men loomed on the threshold, each with a black wolfskin about his shoulders.
Wulfguard.
The one in front was a Vaanian almost as tall as Tric. Handsome as a four-poster bed full of top-shelf sweetboys, thick blond hair and beard parted into seven plaits. A long scar cutting down his brow and cheek wasn’t enough to ruin the picture.
“This them?” he asked.
Mia looked into the hallway, heart sinking as she spied a familiar face framed by lank red hair, a monocle still propped on his blackened eye.
“Tha’sher,” the lad lisped through busted lips. “Bish nogged out my fuggin’ teef!”
Mia heard Bladesinger cry out from down the hall, Sidonius cursing.
Jonnen …
She took a step forward, naked as the turn she was born, ready to make these bastards sorry they ever had been. The men fanned out into the room, each with hands on their sword hilts. The fact that they hadn’t even drawn steel yet told her they were either incredibly stupid or extremely confident.
The leader looked at Mia, green eyes flashing.
“His majesty, Einar Valdyr, Blackwolf of Vaan, Scourge of the Four Seas, commands your presence before the Throne of Scoundrels, girl. If you’ve gods, you’d best set to praying.” His gaze flickered to Ashlinn, standing with sword drawn on the bed. “And if you’ve clothes, you’d best put them on.”
“Unhand me, brigand!” Mia heard Jonnen cry. “My father will have you flayed and fed to the dogs!”
“’Singer?” Mia called, heart rising in her throat.
“Aye?” she heard the woman yell.
“Is everyone all right? Is Jonnen—”
“They have him in hand,” the woman called. “But he’s well.”
“I am not well!” the little boy cried. “Unhand me, cretin, I am the son of an—”
“You want us to gut these bastards, say the word, Crow!” Butcher yelled.
“I’d not give that word,” the scarred man counseled, “if I were you. That sword sits well in your hand, but you’ve nowhere to run. And if King Einar gets word you tried to run, it’ll go all the worse for you.” He shook his head. “You fucked up badly, girl.”
Mia’s mind was racing, and she was cursing herself a fool. She could kill these men, she had little doubt, but for all she knew Jonnen could be at the point of