Then, as if she’d said something she shouldn’t have, Lillian yanked herself away, stumbled toward her tray with the empty bowls on it. She scooped it up and limped as quick as she could toward the cell door.
As the metal gate swung closed behind her and she called for the guard to lock it, I flexed the muscles in my arms. The one wrapped in the poultice was still blessedly numb, but the guard wouldn’t see much of my bandage with it covered in this blanket.
A blanket she’d given to me to stay warm. As if the memory of her touch wouldn’t be enough.
I settled back on my heels, tipped my head back, and exhaled. Lillian wasn’t mine, but the full moon was in a few days, and Tarbert had something planned for me.
For the first time, I had a chance at escape.
And a reason, as well.
Thank ye, Lillian.
CHAPTER FOUR
Lillian
This time,my night wasn’t spent staring up at the canopy, worrying about my plan. Indeed not. I’d slept little the night before, and put in a full day’s work, quite outside my trip to the dungeon. I was exhausted and fell quickly into a deep sleep.
And was, apparently immediately, beset with erotic dreams.
I might be a virgin, but I wasn’tinnocent. My older sisters shared their stories—often with giggles and speculation—and a particularly naughty scroll Sorcha treasured calledA Harlot’s Guide to the Forbidden and Delightful Arts. I’d been shocked by the illustrations.
Shocked, and…intrigued.
Today, when Kragorn’s tongue had flicked across my palm, I’d immediately thought of those illustrations, and thedescriptions of what a male’s tongue might accomplish. Of course, I’d never heard of such a thing from my mother or any of the married couples I’d known…and I’d wondered if the males of my acquaintance worried about such things.
Indeed, ‘twas difficult to imagine a man like my father or Laird McDonald concerning himself with his partner’s pleasure.
Equal partners.
That’s what Kragorn had called Mating in his world, and I found myself praying that meant Sorcha, Roxanna, and our cousin Effie had found, not just happiness, but acceptance and—dare I hope?—caring partners.
So aye, those considerations, paired with the feel of Kragorn’s tusk beneath my fingers, his tongue across my skin…was it any wonder my dreams turned erotic?
I woke with my hand pressed against my mound, the heel of my palm grinding against the pearl of pleasure hidden in my curls, my fingers curled under to press against my opening. The linen of my nightrail was soaked with my desire, and I came awake as my orgasm crashed over me.
My moan was positively decadent, and before the tremors passed, I’d pushed myself up on my elbows, praying no one had snuck into my room to see such perversions.
Are they perversions? A Harlot’s Guide teaches that women are worth such pleasure. Orcs honor their Mates. Has Sorcha found pleasure in their world?
Groaning, I flopped back against the pillows, rolling over and vowing not to dream such things again.
It didn’t work.
I woke after dawn, feeling drained and sweaty and confused. When had I last slept so long? I scrambled to prepare myself, worrying that Father would be cross at my laziness.
Thank the Lord he did not seem to notice when I stopped by the Great Hall to find him already breaking his fast. One of the other servants must have taken over the duty of ensuring he was fed.
Other servants? Ye are a lady of the keep, are ye not?
Frowning, I pressed my arse and palms to the stone wall of the corridor, wondering why I’d heard that admonishment in Kragorn’s voice. Likely because I’d spent all night thinking of him.
Or because he was right?
Nay, he was aprisoner! A beast my father kept chained for a good reason. He’d killed violently, and I should not have spent so much time with him yesterday.
But my father wanted him healthy enough to display at Hogmanay, and I told myself I was merely doing my duty to my father. As I would be later today, when I visited Kragorn with more tea and healing herbs.
