“Last night, when I introduced him?” Kett asked sarcastically.
“No, before that.”
“He probably robbed you at some point.”
“He used to be a highwayman,” Nuala explained earnestly, and Bael found himself breaking into laughter.
“What?” Kett demanded.
“Your father used to be a highwayman, who is now an earl with a valet, since he married the king’s sister, and they give you gauntlets for Yule? And you don’t find any of this funny?”
Her mouth twitched, but she still said, “No.”
Bael slung his arm around her shoulders and hugged her to him, still laughing. “Liar,” he said fondly.
Kett seemed to spend a large portion of the rest of the day purposefully ignoring him. Bael, annoyed by this, ignored her when she turned up for lunch, which seemed to greatly irritate her.
This pleased him enormously.
Maybe he could explain a few things to her. Like why she couldn’t tell anyone he was Nasc, and why he didn’t want to go poking around looking for whoever had tried to turn them into a piñata.
Maybe, after he’d gotten his brain in order, but to do that he’d have to get her naked again, because right now all he could think about was her hot, tight body and how damn good she’d felt in his arms last night.
Kett glared at him surreptitiously through the entire meal, snapping her gaze away whenever it looked like Bael might see her. By the end of the meal she couldn’t keep her eyes off him.
Bael continued to talk pleasantly to Tane about Treegan scores, and then when the meal was over and Kett still hadn’t left the room, he excused himself, walked out, and waited for five seconds in the pretty blue room adjoining the green one where they’d eaten lunch.
The door slammed and Kett glowered at him.
“Hi,” he said, and backed her against the wall to kiss her hard.
Damn, she had a hot mouth. He could kiss her forever. He half expected her to shove him away, but after a tense second her hand slid to the back of his neck, her fingers curled in his shirt and she melted fluidly against him.
Having been thwarted in his attempts to get inside her this morning, Bael couldn’t stop his hands sliding down her arms, over her hips, up to her waist, feeling the lean curves under her clothes. Her shirt was loose and his fingers touched bare skin, hot and smooth, gliding up over her stomach to cup her breast. She was wearing a bra, which was extremely frustrating because he wanted to touch her bare breast, roll her nipple between his fingers, pull up her shirt and taste her.
In fact…
“What’re you doing?” Kett gasped as he pushed her shirt up and pulled her bra cup down.
Bael didn’t answer, since it was pretty self-evident and besides, his mouth was engaged in other activities. She had lovely nipples, did Kett, plump and delicious. He swirled his tongue around one and her breath came out in a sharp hiss.
Next to them, the door rattled and Bael suddenly found himself thrust away from Kett’s wonderful breast. For a second, confusion reigned, then he saw the door handle turn and Kett bolted, trying to tuck her breast back inside her bra as she ran.
Bael followed, a little blood pounding in his head and the rest rushing elsewhere, as Kett ran for a small door half concealed in the paneling. She skidded inside just as the main door to the room opened and her father came through.
“What-?”
Bael didn’t wait to reply, but followed Kett through the small door and slammed it behind him. She was disappearing down a corridor, stark and plain compared to the opulence of the other rooms he’d seen. Servants’ access, Bael realized, not really caring, taking off after Kett.
She careened down a short flight of stairs and he caught up to her in a sort of scullery. Her cheeks were flushed, her chest was heaving and all the blood in Bael’s body went south so fast he stumbled, crashing into her and falling against the big, scrubbed table in the middle of the room.
If a part of him wondered why the scullery, adjoining kitchen and servants’ corridor were completely empty, it was soon drowned out by the waves of lust swamping him as his body touched Kett’s again. Adrenaline surged through him and he tugged at her shirt, bit down on her lip, scrambled to touch as much of her as he could.
Kett shoved him away and for a second he faltered, but then he realized she was just pulling her shirt off over her head, and that meant her bra was exposed to him-it was lacy! She was wearing lace!-which meant her breasts were nearly exposed to him again.
Wriggling backward on the table, Kett grabbed his shirt and pulled him between her thighs, kissing him hard and deep, her hands shoving his jacket away, jerking his shirt loose, reaching for the fly on his trousers. Her nipples were hard against his chest, even through the layers of clothing between them, and the skin of her back was smooth between the thick scars crisscrossing it.
Bael bit down on her neck, ran his tongue along her collarbone, yanked the lace of her bra aside and sucked her nipple into his mouth. He wanted it all, wanted to suck her and lick her and thrust inside her.
When his hands moved to unfasten her trousers, hers were already there. He worked his hand inside, found her slick and hot and stroked into her, making her moan.
“Door,” Kett gasped, the first thing either of them had said since they’d fled the blue room, and Bael stared blindly at it for a second. “They’ll come down to clear lunch, close the door!”
He did, tearing himself reluctantly away to shove it closed and turn the key in the lock. When he turned back, Kett was throwing her boots across the room and struggling to get her tight leathers off. Bael helped her, chucking them and her underwear on the floor and then looking at her, very nearly naked, her legs spread wide and her nipples peeking out over the cups of her bra. Between her legs her pussy lips were slippery wet, pink and puffy, and he stroked them with one finger, sliding it inside to feel how wet she was.
Very wet. Her hands were busy freeing his cock, stroking him, guiding him into her and then he was there, pushing inside her, and both of them moaned. Bael withdrew then thrust again, harder, his eyes on Kett’s. They glittered, hard and bright, and her mouth found his as she wrapped her legs high around his waist and pulled him in deeper.
He didn’t take his time. He didn’t whisper soft caresses against her skin. He didn’t do anything except fuck her, hard and fast, losing himself in her slick heat, slamming into her so hard the table rattled. She clutched at him, shoving back with each thrust, fucking his mouth with her tongue.
With any other woman, Bael might have felt bad about being so brutal. But Kett took it all and gave it back, wild and fierce, spurring him on. He felt her orgasm rip through her, her pussy tight around him, yanking him into freefall, and he came inside her with a roar she took into her own mouth.
The rippling aftershocks of Kett’s orgasm milked him dry, and even as he came back down to earth, holding her trembling in his arms, he felt her shudder one last time.
“I ain’t wearing that,” Kett said flatly.
Nuala’s eyes widened a little. Her pretty lips curved upward. She even flashed her dimples. Kett recognized this look-Nuala had been using it on her since the day they met. It was her stepmother’s most charming, helpless, I-desperately-want-to-please-you look.
“It didn’t work on me twenty years ago and it ain’t working now,” Kett said.
“Will you at least try it on?” Nuala beseeched, holding out a slithery bundle of silver fabric.
“Nu, I don’t do dresses. And I really don’t do silk and lace and whatever the hell else it is.”
“You wear lace underwear,” Nuala pointed out.
“Yeah, but that’s because it’s all you buy me. And you know I ain’t going shopping for it.”
“Well, there’s no lace on this dress,” Nuala said. “Really. It’s very, very simple, unadorned, it’s not fussy at all. I knew you’d never wear anything fussy.”