This, Maria soon discovered, proved to be remarkably difficult, and her first few careful attempts found only solid stone walls against her seeking hands. But Simon repeated it again and again, his orders consistently patient, his hands settling on her shoulders with reassuring frequency.
“It may help in this, I ken,” he said, after yet another unsuccessful attempt, “if you seek no so much to smell, mayhap, orthinkso hard upon this — but insteadfeel. Seek for me in these strongfeelingsyou so oft bear. Ach?”
Maria felt herself frowning — was he mocking her? — but his hands on her shoulders were again steady, soothing, patient. “Again. Feel me, woman.”
Feel him. A little shiver snaked up Maria’s back, but she drew in a bracing breath, and nodded. And then stood there in the pitch-blackness, breathing, feeling. Thinking, this time, not of sifting through the air for the strength of a smell, but instead lingering, perhaps incongruously, on the night before. Of how Simon had taken her, enfolding her in that rich scent, filling her with it, making her his own…
And this time, when she turned toward it — he was there. Here, breathing and alive under her seeking fingers, and she heard herself laugh out loud, the sound bright and joyous in the blackness. “I did it!” she said, foolishly, before she could catch the words. “I found you, Simon!”
And perhaps it was her imagination, but that might have been a huff of laughter from him too, his hands squeezing against her shoulders. “Ach, woman. Now show me again.”
Again. Maria eagerly nodded, and again onlyfeltfor him in the darkness, inhaling deep. And this time she was sure of his presence before she even touched him, her fingers already spreading wide, finding the steady pulse of his heart.
“Good,” he said, husky. “Again, woman.”
So Maria did it again, and again, until Simon began moving further away, making the entire process that much more difficult. But still touching her, reassuring her,teachingher — and by the time he finally stopped, Maria was actually grinning up toward his familiar voice in the darkness, her eager hands clutching with willing ease at his chest, his heart,hers.
“This pleased me, woman,” he said, as his hand widened on her arse, again guiding her down the corridor. “We shall work more upon this, ach?”
He hadn’t lit the lamp again, but it felt almost easy to walk in the dark now, with that steady, reassuring touch against her. “Sounds good,” Maria replied, her voice still warm with laughter. “It was fun. Thanks, Simon.”
Simon’s hand gave her another approving little slap, and then nudged her around another corner, toward what sounded like a wall of noise. “Ach,” he said, his voice gruff. “Now mayhap you shall find joy in this for me, also?”
This, it turned out, once Simon re-lit the lamp, was once again the Skai arena. And once again, it was full of shouting, brawling orcs, who scarcely glanced toward them — and Maria realized that they’d actually been fighting in pitch-darkness. And that they’d been doing so last time she’d come here, too, and she felt a new, twitching appreciation for how truly impressive that feat was.
“Next,” came Simon’s voice over his shoulder, as he strode back toward the same fur-covered area as before, “you shall learn to wield your new blade. Ach?”
Maria had willingly followed him, though she felt her uncertainty rising, her fingers uneasily searching against the dagger-hilt through her tunic. “Um, I will?”
“Ach,” Simon said firmly, spinning around to face her, brows raised. “Just as you have so far learnt to punch, and pray, and seek a scent in darkness. Just as you have learnt to take my prick in your throat, and your rump, and full to the root in your womb. Ach?”
Right. A furious blaze of heat burned up Maria’s cheeks, and she seemed inexplicably caught on that look in Simon’s eyes. The challenge. The assessing. The…approval.
“Ach?” he said again, softer this time. “Draw your blade, woman. Honour me.”
And yes, yes, Maria could do this. She would. And her slightly trembling fingers were already seeking under her tunic, carefully pulling out her dagger by the hilt, while that approval again flared across Simon’s eyes.
“Good,” he said. “Now seek to strike me.”
Maria couldn’t help an unwilling flinch, blinking down at her shiny dagger-blade, and then back at Simon’s face. “But,” she protested, “it’sreal, Simon.”
Simon’s mouth tilted up, slow,amused. “Ach, I ken,” he said, deadpan, as he came a step nearer. “Strike me, woman.”
Maria made herself nod, moving closer, drawing in a deep breath. And then shifting, settling her stance, feeling the floor, just as he’d taught her last time —
And then she lunged forward, with as much power and speed as she could muster. Aiming the dagger straight for Simon’sgroin, good gods — but yes, yes, that was surely approval in his eyes again. Even as he smoothly eased out of the way, his hand snapping to catch the sharp, gleaming blade between his bared claws.
“For this strike, hold it thus,” he said, as his other hand repositioned Maria’s grip on the hilt. “And aim higher, so you no risk missing me, ach?”
With that, he demonstrated, actually guiding the blade’s deadly edge up against where — Maria’s breath choked — the monster in his trousers was fully visible, a thick, vertical ridge reaching nearly to his waist. And he was nudging Maria’s dagger firmly against it, about halfway up its swollen length, his hands utterly nonchalant, his eyes not once leaving her flushed face.
“Ach?” he said, his voice almost a purr. “Again, woman.”
And again, Maria soon found herself caught in one of the most surreal experiences of her life. Charging and swinging again and again toward an orc’s bulging groin, while he easily avoided every one of her attacks, calmly corrected her stance and her hold, and smiled with wolfish, dangerous approval when one of her strikes finally nudged at the dangling drawstring holding up his trousers.
“Good,” he said, once again catching Maria’s blade in his bare fingers, and nudging it against that pulsing ridge at his groin. “A mite faster, and you should have caught me here, ach?”
And he was showing her, letting the dagger linger there, flaunting this appalling sight for her wide, hungry eyes. Taunting her, flashing her those sharp white teeth, while something flipped in her heaving chest, dipped deep in her belly…
