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“Aiken . . .”
Ah God, if I thought riding beside her and lying so close to her were difficult, not giving myself over completely to Hilla at this moment is much more so. Burying myself inside her, my arms shaking with the effort, I’m rewarded by a cry of pleasure likely to be heard by all on the ship.
As she clenches around me, I keep my promise and pull out, grabbing my shirt just in time. As discreetly as possible, I remove myself from her reluctantly. With little time to relish my own release, I attempt to conceal the evidence of my need for Hilla.
But she sees me.
Blissfully spent, but curious, Hilla watches as I drop my shirt on the ground.
“To ensure you will not beget a child from this,” I explain. But still, she looks at me. Gathering Hilla in my arms as I lie next to her in the small bed, I push her hair from my face, back over her shoulder.
“Does it . . . does it feel the same for you? Doing that?”
Not meaning to laugh but unable to help it, I tilt Hilla’s chin up toward me, kissing her rather than answering. This night was about her pleasure, not mine. Although I enjoyed a fair bit of it as well.
Her lips, so soft and willing, fit with mine more perfectly than they should.
“We can speak on that another time. For now, there are other matters to discuss,” I say, finally pulling away.
“Aye,” she agrees, “there are.”
28
Hilla
Two days since our night together, and Aiken and I have yet to find a moment alone. After the captain’s knock at my cabin door that eve, we hastily dressed and Aiken smoothed over our private meeting with a story of me worrying about the safety of our voyage.
To maintain the ruse, I’ve had to pretend, with every lurch of the ship, a fear of being overturned. Feigning weakness is something I became accustomed to as Whitley’s wife, when ’twas necessary. But I care less and less to do so. A fact I am determined to share with Aiken, if I could get the man alone.
Unfortunately, a storm has made for a lonely journey in this cramped cabin as Aiken assists the men on deck. Apparently he is a warrior, a monk, and a sailor.
As for my part, soon I will not need to pretend uneasiness on this voyage. All day we rock, from one side to the next. But I tamp down my worry, trust in the skill of the captain, and wait. And think.
Contemplating that night, I wonder what it means. I do know lovemaking, especially with a widow such as I, can be a very fleeting affair, as Aiken apparently intends for ours to be. Nothing more than simply giving in to a desire.
But was that so bad? Even if short-lived, I will have felt desire like never before.
Other than staying alive, it seems I am incapable of considering anything but each and every touch of Aiken’s
Perhaps because I never imagined a love match, not that I am in love with Aiken, of course. But knowing that as the future queen my marriage would be arranged, I spent little time envying those that could pursue their passions. I ignored my maid’s attempts to explain the ways between men and women, knowing Whitley was no gentle suitor, and pretended it mattered naught. I did not need a gentle touch but only to ensure my kingdom, now Cettina’s kingdom, was safe.
And yet . . .
A knock at the door disrupts my thoughts. As I cross the small space to open it, I notice for the first time the back-and-forth motions that have been ever-present these past two days seem to have ceased.
Pulling open the door, I am surprised to see Aiken standing there. In his Elderman’s robes, sword at his side, he is as intimidating as ever. He holds up a jug and two goblets. I glance behind him but see no one.
“The others are occupied.”
I step aside, the thudding in my chest that seems to accompany every waking thought of Aiken even stronger now that he’s standing next to me. As he comes inside and I close my cabin door, I inadvertently glance at the bed. And imagine him above me.
“The storm has abated?”
If not for him in my cabin, I would desire to venture above. But now, there is nowhere on this ship I would prefer to be than here.
“Aye.”
He puts down the items on the small desk. Before I can say anything more, Aiken pulls me to him, and I willingly meld into his arms. His lips touch mine, differently than that night. They are soft, gentle. Coaxing me, though I need no coaxing at all. Yesterday afternoon he stole inside my cabin for a similar kiss, said nothing, and left. But now, it appears he intends to stay.
