“Lily, that’s enough!” he finally gasped, his hips thrusting against her face. She thought he might try pulling away, so she clutched his buttocks as she continued exploring every inch of his cock with her tongue. She found a long vein along the underside and traced it with the tip of her tongue before laving the smooth head. Taking the tip in her mouth, she sucked in a quick, steady rhythm that soon had him writhing, his hands clutching her head.
“I can’t, Lily!” His voice sounded ragged and she felt him tremble as he tried holding his orgasm at bay. Lily wouldn’t allow it. She sucked harder, her rhythm faster. His grip loosened on her hair and he said in a raw voice, "Stop now or I won't be able to control myself."
She didn't relent, but kneaded his buttocks and thighs as she continued licking and sucking his cock head.
"Oh Gods, Lily! Don't stop!" She nearly smiled. He'd changed his mind quickly enough. Not that she blamed him, considering the force of her attack. She'd leave him no opportunity to surrender.
Suddenly he lunged against her and stifled his cry of pure pleasure. His entire body surged and shook as he gasped her name.
Giving his soft cock a final lick, she slipped from beneath his tunic and watched as he hitched up his trousers with trembling hands.
She couldn’t conceal her smile as she stood, particularly upon noting the color darkening the ridges of his cheekbones. Had she possibly resurrected sheepish feelings in a former Captain of the
Zaltanian
guard?
He moved so swiftly she hadn’t a chance to react before he grasped her waist and pressed her to the wall.
“Crag, we should get back to the longhouse—“
“Before you get your due?”
“What if they need a healer?”
“I have until morning, as you so recently reminded me.”
“Yes, but—“ she gasped, her eyes closing in ecstasy as he dropped to his knees, lifted her skirts, and fastened his mouth on her clit. The sensitive nub was already swollen and aching, just from arousing him, and within moments his moist caress would hurl her into orgasm. Or so she thought.
Crag seemed to know just when she was about to explode. He stopped caressing and simply rested his tongue against her stimulated flesh. Lily trembled in an effort not to move. She knew even a tiny thrust against his tongue would be enough to push her over the edge. He reached up, tugging down her dress and freeing her breasts to his hands. He cupped the warm mounds and kneaded them. His callused palms felt so good against her nipples, but not nearly as good as his fingertips when they circled the hard little peaks.
“Oh Crag!” she panted, her pulse throbbing in her ears. She leaned against the wall as his tongue resumed its ministrations. This time, he swirled it inside her pussy, then returned to her clit. He paused, allowing his breath to caress her.
Crag’s hands left her breasts and cupped her buttocks. Lily was grateful for the change of position because seconds later, he began lapping her clit with fast, gentle strokes of his tongue that sent her into an orgasm that nearly knocked her off her feet.
“Crag!” she gasped. “Oh, don’t stop! Please don’t stop!”
He continued licking and tugging at her with his lips as she clutched handfuls of his hair, her pelvis squirming against his face. Finally she sagged against him as her breathing returned to normal.
He waited until she stirred before suggesting they return to the longhouse.
“You can still have a few hours of sleep before morning,” she said.
“I think I’ll sleep very well.” A smile played around his lips.
She grinned. “I’ll wager.”
She adjusted her clothes and headed for the door, but he caught her arm. “Lily, I want you to know that if a child comes from anything we’ve done, I’ll do what’s right—”
“There won’t be a child.”
“How do you know?”
“Because of this.” She tugged a pouch from the folds of her skirt. “I’d been having problems with my monthly showing and the healer from my home village gave me a supply of this herb. It helped with my regularity, but another result is that I won’t conceive children while using it. So you don’t have to worry, Crag. I won’t shame you.”
“I wasn’t thinking of myself.” His voice sounded rather cold, but before he turned away, she noted an unfamiliar look in his eyes. If she hadn’t known better, she would have thought it was disappointment.
“Until we find the next spare moment,” he said, brushing her mouth with a kiss far more passionate than his cool words before sweeping out of the storage house.
Cold air blew in, and snowflakes dusted Lily’s face as she blinked against the wind. Shaking her head, she followed Crag back to the longhouse, puzzled by the strange quirks of men.
Lily awoke covered in blankets, her head resting on a folded cloak, a bowl of water for washing beside her. She blinked her eyes clear, running a hand through her hair and searching for Crag. Kneeling by the fire, his back to her, he prepared an herbal mixture. Across the room, Blaze ministered to an elderly woman.
Lily sighed. Crag had returned, and nothing had changed. They’d made love last night, but again it was to be their secret and life in the longhouse would continue as usual. Lily sighed as she stretched and stood to begin the day.
Days fell into the same familiar pattern. Though she and Crag spent hours together during which she watched him and learned, neither initiated lovemaking. Not that there was time. Even with Sir Blaze’s help, the injured still poured in from the battles raging across the continent. Sometimes, during a moment of rest, Lily caught Crag staring at her and her pulse would quicken. His eyes expressed his desire for her, the same yearning she felt for his body. Perhaps it was more than just his body. If circumstances had been different, if she hadn’t been recently widowed and he hadn’t been
Zaltanian
, would they have seriously pursued each other? Rather than drive herself mad thinking about what might have been, Lily immersed herself in learning all she could about the healing arts.
Sir Blaze offered knowledge as freely as Crag, allowing Lily to listen as he instructed the apprentices in the use of herbs and the preparation of medicines.
One afternoon Lily stood with Crag behind the curtain, helping to dust and replenish supplies.
“Blaze knows things about healing I’ve never imagined,” Crag said. “Watching him, I feel like I know nothing.”
“I wouldn’t worry about it,” she told him. “I’ve seen Sir Wood look just as bewildered as you say you feel around Blaze.”
“Funny that a man with Blaze’s skill and power in the Order isn’t the least bit intimidating.”
“Not like many of the others,” Lily admitted, passing him a bottle of ointment. He reached for it absently, and his hand covered hers.
Crag turned, and their eyes met. He took the bottle with his other hand and placed it aside, not loosening his hold on her. Lily’s heartbeat quickened as she stared at him. He was so tall and strong, and it seemed like forever since they’d made love.
Crag shook his head, looking almost annoyed.
“What?” she asked softly.
“We’ve been living in the midst of a stinking hell hole and all I’ve been able to think about is being with you again and not just in private. I want to tell the whole damn settlement.”
She swallowed, wondering if he felt the tremor running down her spine. She wanted to make love with him, but he had just taken their relationship a step further. He had been thinking about making their feelings for one another public. He’d said a Knight could only make love with a woman he married. If he announced their courtship, then marriage was sure to follow. No! She could never even consider it.
Zaltana
had destroyed all she loved, and no matter what she felt for Crag, giving the rest of her life to him would make her feel like a traitor, something that would eventually destroy them both.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I know we weren’t supposed to talk about it.”
“I just… ” She lowered her eyes. “I’m just not ready for that, Crag. Not now.”
He cupped her chin in his hand and tilted her face toward his. “I know. Forget I ever said it.” In spite of his reassuring words, she didn’t miss the disappointment in his eyes.
He turned back to the shelves, and Lily continued passing him supplies.
They’d just finished their task, when Blaze stepped behind the curtain.
“The snow’s stopped,” he announced. “Come outside with me,
Jagged
Peak
.”
Silently, Crag followed Blaze who called over his shoulder. “You shriek curiosity, Water Flower. Satisfy it.”
Even after such a short time, Lily had grown accustomed to Blaze’s odd manner of speaking. Sensing her interest, he was bidding her to follow.
Outside, Blaze led Crag to a clearing behind the barn. No sooner had they stopped and faced each other, that Blaze struck out at Crag with his fist. Crag just missed dodging the blow.
“Sir!” he snapped, eyes flashing surprise. His hands rose to a defensive position as he and Blaze circled one another.
“You’ve passed the test for healing skills,” Blaze told him. “Rain sings praises of your fighting talents. I must see for myself.”
Lily’s fingers tightened on her skirt as Blaze attacked Crag with a barrage of fast, powerful kicks and punches. Blaze had so perfected the art of fighting, that he appeared graceful as a dancer, yet she knew each of his strikes was potentially fatal. To Crag’s credit, he blocked and dodged most of the blows, yet he seemed unable to breech the auburn-haired Knight’s defenses, in spite of how he struck back.
Lily well knew Crag was a skilled fighter, yet Blaze was almost inhuman in his precision. He spun, and the back of his fist struck Crag in the cheek, almost staggering him. Crag attacked with greater force, his foot finding a momentarily unguarded place in Blaze’s mid-section, his kick knocking the auburn-haired Knight onto his back. Blaze sprang up, caught one of Crag’s arms as his fist flew, and jerked him into an arm lock that sent him crashing to the icy ground.
Crag’s blue eyes gleamed with fury as he struggled in Blaze’s unbreakable hold.
Blaze released him and stood, brushing snow from his uniform and smiling with approval. Crag pushed himself to his feet, his expression wary, as if awaiting another attack. Both men’s breaths came in visible puffs in the frigid air.
“Just as good as most of my own men,” Blaze said. “Rain was accurate in his recommendation.”
“What recommendation?” Crag demanded.
“Of you to join my faction. At times the guards choose men they think are ready, yet few truly are up to wearing the green sash. Once your service is complete, I extend you an invitation to our faction. Do you wish to join the madmen?” Blaze’s pale eyes glistened.
“I don’t know what I want. And as for being a madman, I already qualify.”
“You have time to decide. It’s often long after he’s Knighted that a man decides to join our faction. My conscience only allows me to choose the best healers and the best fighters. I cannot send a defenseless man weaponless into the thick of battle. The green sash adorns few.”
“Where I come from, I was considered elite,” Crag said. “I’ve never met anyone with your talent for hand-to-hand combat. Where did you learn?”
“First, from the leader of our Order, then in my travels. Join my faction, and all I know will be yours.” Blaze turned back toward the house. “We’re needed.”
Lily joined Crag and fell into step beside him. “Are you all right?”
He shrugged. “Fine.”
“Are you going to join his faction?”
“Right now, I only want to think about surviving the war. Knighthood, the green sash, those decisions can come later.”
She glanced down at her feet as they plodded through the snow, thinking that it felt as if the war would never end. But, as she already should have learned, all things end.
One month after Blaze and Crag’s sparring match, the snow and ice had melted and gave way to the warmth and freshness of spring. The longhouse was still stuffy, yet outside warm breezes carried the scent of wild flowers. Lily, along with many in the settlement, took daily walks to the brook in the nearby woods to bathe.
In spite of the pleasant weather, springtime saddened her somewhat. She’d been married in the spring.
Though most of the winter casualties had either healed or died, others continued pouring into
Tanek
. Lily helped Crag and Blaze deliver two more babies and began to train seriously as a midwife under Blaze’s instruction. It was strange learning such skills from a man, but when it came to the healing arts, Blaze overflowed with knowledge.
“You should come to
Travelle
,” Blaze had often told her. “Our sister group, the Dames of the Opal Order, have fine midwives. You should learn from them.”
“Perhaps I will.”
Delivering babies reminded her that there was still hope in the world, a difficult thing to remember when she watched Crag or Blaze lend aid to the fatally wounded.
One morning in early spring, while she assisted Crag who was removing an arrowhead from a soldier’s chest, the longhouse doors burst open.
Rain, his black hair tousled, a broad smile on his lips, bellowed, “The war is over!
Zaltana
has retreated!”