Finding Destiny (42 page)

With some of his own urgency diminished by the unwelcome intrusion, Ellett wondered if she’d lost hers. Before he could ask her if she wanted to stop, she rolled her eyes, shook her head, and looked down at him.

“Sorry for the interruption. How’s your head? Does it still ache?” The gleam in her eyes matched the curve spreading those lovely lips. “If it does, I was thinking a massage might help.”

She tightened her inner muscles just as he started to reply. Losing his breath, Ellett could only gape at her. He drew in another lungful of air, only to lose it a second time when she repeated the intimate squeeze. Mita laughed softly.

“Poor thing, looks like you’ve been struck speechless,” she murmured.

That narrowed his eyes. She could torment and torture him with the delights of her body all she wanted, but she would not mock him and get away with it. Gripping her hips, Ellett pushed her up a little, then pulled her down, circling his hips as he lifted them to meet her. Her hazel eyes widened and a delighted smile curved her mouth. A squeeze of her flesh met his next spiraling stroke, as did the ones that followed.

Holding her gaze, Ellett made love with her somewhere between languid and heated. The bo’sun hadn’t spoiled their mood so much as tempered it, thankfully. But as the sun rose in the east, gleaming through the port-side windows, their tempo rose as well. Gripping his hands for balance, she started curling her pelvis forward with each downward stroke.

With the sweat of their efforts sheening her skin, her hair glowing red in the intermittent rays of the sun peeking through the windows—the bed they were on felt as steady as if it were on land, but the ship still bobbed up and down with each passing wave—Ellett thought she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. He wanted more than anything to see what she looked like when she came undone.

Shifting her hands to his chest made two things available: his own hands and her breasts. They swayed enticingly with each stroke of her body. At least, until he cupped them. The soft mounds weren’t overly large, but they didn’t need to be. In fact, the best part was how the pebbled tips of her breasts slotted perfectly into the gaps between his thumbs and forefingers. That allowed him to knead and gently roll the various bits of her flesh, until she shuddered over him, gasping his name.

The feel of her breasts in his hands connected itself down through his arms to his abdomen, joining with the squeezing bliss of her inner muscles, heightening his own pleasure. When she sagged, replete, Ellett lowered her to his chest and wrapped his arms around her waist. The angle was different in this position, not quite as deep, but still enjoyable. Listening to her pant as she recovered, he reveled in the way she covered, even clung, to him, leaving him free to thrust as he wished.

She sighed against his neck, then shifted her head. An exploratory lick of her tongue along the lobe of his ear broke his careful pacing. It caused a shock wave of pleasure which exploded both down through his chest and up from his toes, gathering in the heavy fullness of his rod. Pulling on her hips, Ellett held her close and poured himself into her heat, groaning with each mind-reeling pulse.

Slowly, his muscles relaxed. Before any post-bliss lethargy could lure him back to sleep, Ellett shifted his hands from her hips to her face. A tilt and a nuzzle allowed him to find her lips, kissing her in thanks for their lovemaking. She sighed and kissed him back for a few moments. Sitting up, Mita smiled down at him.

“Feeling better?”

“Mmm, yes.” Ellett paused thoughtfully, then added, “Unless I should have a relapse later tonight. I just might need more of your tender ministrations to make me feel better, again.”

She chuckled. “We’ll see.” Climbing off of him, she steadied herself at the side of the bed. “Oh—you may want to just stand by the side of the bed for a couple moments so you can get used to the movement of the ship again.”

Nodding, he watched her move across the cabin. There were three doors in this inner chamber; one led back to the captain’s office, one led to the head, the charming nautical term for the closet that passed for a refreshing room, and a heavily locked and rune-warded door which Captain Mita had dismissed as “the ship’s vault” last night. If they had succeeded with their raid on the
Parrot’s Ride
, no doubt the most valuable of goods would have been locked behind its stout walls.

She came back after a few moments. His turn, he rose and braced himself beside the bed for a few heartbeats, then crossed the room once he felt his sea legs returning. Using the same door she had, Ellett relieved himself at the refresher, then used a dribble of water on a clean scrap of cloth, scrubbing the sleep from his face and the evidence of their lovemaking from his skin. A muttered spell scrubbed and dried the fabric, which he tucked back over its hanging rod under the small square of mirror fastened to the bulkhead.

The silvered glass, he noted, had been carved along the edge of its wooden frame with anti-scrying wards. It reminded him of the small palm-mirror in his bag of belongings, and the fact that he really should contact someone back in Aurul about having found the pirates, and having found a more serious problem than just some disgruntled Jettan sailors playing restitutions games.

Later in the day,
he promised himself.
None of my contacts back at the palace would be awake this early. Well, maybe Leftenant Rahina
, he corrected himself, rubbing his hand over his stubble-dusted chin.
She’s an early riser.

His musings from last night came back to him.
If Ruul thinks we’re meant to be together ... then either Captain Mita or Mage-Captain Ellett will have to give up their career. I love my work, and I am proud to serve my king ... but she loves her own as well, and is proud to sail for her people. And I’m not sure how
I
would decide, let alone her.

Not one to keep fighting an opponent that hadn’t yet materialized, Ellett murmured a shaving spell. His hair needed tending, too, since little wisps of brown were escaping its braid, but that would have to wait until he could dig his brush out of his bag. With nothing left to tidy, he returned to the sleeping cabin.

His half-formed thoughts of getting dressed and starting the day vanished at the sight of his hostess. She had redonned her nightshirt and crawled back into her bed, cuddling one of her overstuffed pillows with a contented smile. Amused, Ellett approached her. “Permission to climb aboard, Captain?”

FIVE

She quirked a brow, though she kept her eyes shut. “Me, or the bed?”

“The bed,” he clarified. Then couldn’t resist adding, “For now.”

“Permission granted—but be careful,” she added as he eased through the transition from moving ship to unmoving bed. “I take prisoners.”

“So do I.” Shifting so that he spooned up behind her, he allowed himself to cuddle her. This was something he hadn’t done in a very long time: snuggled in bed with a woman without it being a prelude to a session of lovemaking. There was something of a post-lovemaking feel lingering in the air, but not by much. That thought did prompt him to speak, however. “Thank you for making love with me. I enjoyed it very much. I hope you did, too.”

Mita chuckled. “Oh, I did. You’re quite good. Unless you think you can do better, of course?”

“Naturally. But later.” Honesty prompted him to gently squeeze her, adding, “I like
this
. I don’t get to do this very often.”

“Neither do I.” A bell off at the prow of the ship rang, counting the hour. She sighed. “Fifth bell. Breakfast will be ready in an hour. I usually eat with the second watch at the end of the meal, but if you’re hungry, we could cadge something early.”

“I can wait. What do you do after you eat breakfast?” Ellett asked.

“After that, I usually spend a little time going over the course and the charts with my First Officer, discussing what happened during the night watch, and then I spend about two hours overseeing the off-duty crew in their weapons practice. We’re not quite a full-time warship, since we do occasionally take on cargo—legitimate cargo,” Mita clarified, “—but we’re as close as any ship in the fleet ever gets, considering how all Jettan vessels and their crews are expected to serve in the defense of our isles.

“Once that’s done, it’s usually ten bells of the morning, and I take over the day watch from Peany, my First Officer, until ten bells of the evening. He’s nicer than Jukol ... to a point. You may have noticed he wasn’t entirely friendly toward you last night, but neither was he rude.”

“I noticed. My mornings are a little different,” he offered. “But not too different from yours.”

“Oh.”

“Well, when I’m not chasing down mad Jettan pirates,” he teased, squeezing her again with the arm he had wrapped around her waist, “I rise early, break my fast and dress, then look over my correspondence until I receive word His Majesty is awake. Then I hold a brief consultation with the Master of the Royal Retreat—the man who schedules His Majesty’s day and oversees the doings in the royal wing of the palace—and both of us report to His Majesty over his breakfast.

“
Then
, depending upon that schedule, I either spend a couple hours at the salle, practicing weapons and spells with my fellow Royal Guards, or I oversee His Majesty’s defense practice, or I arrange escort for His Majesty if the Seer King needs to travel anywhere. And of course I do these things now for Her Highness, too. Or I would, if I weren’t busy chasing down angry Jettans.”

“And later in the day?” Mita asked, squirming onto her back so that she could look at him. “What does the Mage-Captain of the Royal Guard do?”

“Stand around looking pretty,” he quipped, and laughed at her confusion. “From tenth hour—your tenth bell—to noon, His Majesty attends to the days’ prayer-petitions and leads services in one of the glass chapels attached to every royal residence. Then there is lunch, followed by petitions for prophecies. It’s a custom for parents to bring their children to the capital for a blessing between the ages of twelve and fourteen. At least, those who can afford to travel. Otherwise His Majesty makes a royal tour twice a year, circumnavigating the kingdom as he travels between the winter and summer palaces. More serious petitions are heard in the later afternoon, along with council sessions attended by the various heads of governance and the Prime Minister. Supper is followed by early evening prayers.

“And all the time these things are happening, I’m either organizing things in the background, or serving alongside my fellow guards, ‘looking pretty’ as bits of background decoration,” Ellett said. “Our uniforms aren’t designed for subtlety, but we do our best to be forgotten by everyone. That way we can spend our time looking for whatever potential danger might lurk in the royal court.”

“Danger? I thought everyone in Aurul loves your king,” Mita offered, frowning at him.

“Most citizens do, but sometimes certain people take exception to him. Either they’re angry with our God for prophesying something unhappy, or for
not
prophesying it, or they’re angry at their king for agreeing with the Prime Minister that taxes needed to be raised, or that funds had to be shifted from road repair to bridge building after a sudden flood ... or they’re enemies of the nation. Before Mekhana fell, the agents of their False God would try to sneak the occasional assassin among us, and the Keketites in decades past haven’t always cared for certain Aurulan trade taxation policies.” Propping his head on his hand, Ellett gave her a wry smile. “Since every Royal Guardsman and Guardswoman is a highly skilled battle-mage, we’re also sometimes sent into areas of conflict to quell them more directly, whether they’re internal or external.

“Most recently, it was the new kingdom to the west, Guildara. I was sent with an escort of thirty guards to secure peace for our neighbors, and fetch back Her Highness.” He smiled. “Unless you count being ordered onto a ship to go hunt down a bunch of wily Jettan pirates.”

“
Technically
we’re privateers. We’re not in this for our own profit, but rather, for the welfare of our people,” Mita countered mock-primly.

“So what do you do when you’re not privateering?” Ellett asked.

“We patrol the waters around the isles, and occasionally take on very expensive cargo that needs to be run swiftly and safely to its destination port. Because I’m such a strong mage, we can get away with just the healer on board as backup,” she told him. “Normally our ships run with two mages and a healer, if not three. There are too many lucrative jobs on land, which is where most of our more powerful mages tend to be employed, so we use the lesser ones at sea.”

“It’s the same with Aurulan ships’ mages,” he agreed. “The worst part about auditioning for the post on the
Parrot’s Ride
was memorizing and displaying all the necessary spells to prove my competence. I had the power, just not the practice.”

“Mmm. You’re certainly stronger than almost any other ship’s mage out there, excluding myself—and for the record,” Mita added, the corners of her mobile mouth curling up, “I hadn’t reached my peak strength when you disarmed me with that kiss.”