Jaro’s cheeks redden as Lore rides up to my other side and reaches out with his cap scrunched in his hand.
“Oh, no he was just standing outside her door waiting for her to finish yelling at her ghosts,” the redcap helpfully supplies.
He… was? It’s my turn to blush, but none of them pay attention. Lore’s cap drinks away the tiny trickle of blood at my neck, then he takes my hand, and the soft kissing sensation continues until my fingers are clean too.
“I thought you knew what a fever was like,” Drystan growls. “You told Kitarni you understood what we needed to do.”
Jaro raises a hand in surrender. “It’s a week of sex. What moreisthere?”
Bree draws up on his other side, the four of them now riding abreast through the wildflowers. “The days before, she’s going to be needier than normal. She’s going to need more sleep, more food, more water.”
“And more orgasms,” Lore adds.
“Which iswhyyou should’ve made sure she was taken care of so she could stand a full day of riding before we left,” Drystan finishes. “It’s bad enough she’s got to do all of this travelling when her body is going through so much.”
Goddess, it almost sounds like he cares.
“You’re talking about me like I’m not here,” I protest. “Why did no one tell me any of this? It’s my body.”
“Because it’s our duty to take care of you, pet,” Lore says, then beckons to Drystan. “My turn.”
“You just had a turn,” Jaro points out. “Besides, we can’t stop now. We’re nowhere near the Renfraw.”
My hands, now free, rub up and down my arms to try to dispel the urge to scratch. “It’s okay. I can manage.”
I don’t want to put us any further behind schedule on account of my own weakness.
“No. You can’t.” Drystan growls, stopping my hands again. “Play with yourself.”
My mouth falls open in shock. “What?”
“Bring yourself to climax as we ride.”
I’m frozen in shock. I’ve never done such a thing, and certainly not with an audience. Let alone Drystan, of all people. Behind me, I can feel his erection trapped between us. Is he…? Does the thought of me playing with myself arouse him?
It’s probably just the fever, I tell myself.
“Or you could come join me over here, and I’ll do it for you,” Lore promises.
“Not. Your. Turn.” Jaro’s wolf is bleeding into his eyes.
“Stop.” Bree reaches over and slaps Jaro’s arm lightly. “You’re overwhelming her.”
Four pairs of eyes narrow on me, and I squirm harder.
“It doesn’t matter if it’s your hand or one of us.” Drystan is giving me no quarter. “If you want privacy, the others will ride behind. Pick, Rhoswyn.”
“It can wait,” I protest again, but Jaro shakes his head.
“This is hurting you.” He sounds aghast at the very idea. “C’mere, Rosie. This was my fault. Let me fix it.”
He holds his hand out, eyes shining with the force of his wolf and the heat of the male. I’m sure I’m the colour of a tomato as I swallow and take it, but no one comments.
“Give me your reins,” Drystan mutters to Jaro, after he’s lifted me across the gap between horses like a doll. “I’ll ride ahead and keep the horse calm in case one of her guides shows up.”
It takes a few minutes at most before everything is set up. Lore and Bree fall back, and Jaro shifts in his saddle to make more room in front of me as Drystan takes charge of his mare.
“Close your eyes,” the wolf shifter whispers in my ear, taking both of my hands, which have started rubbing at my thighs and looping them up around the back of his neck. “Trust me.”
