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He shivered, from the cold and her light touch on his bare skin. “Your vision at night must be even better than I assumed if you can see a bruise in this blackness.”
She didn't look up from studying the contusions decorating his body. “It's as daylight to you, just without color.” Her fingers traced a delicate map over his side, making him twitch at the sensation. Her claws, as hard and strong as the points he'd carved into her wooden throwing spikes could have cut him deep, but they glided across his flesh in the most delicate caress. “Those bastards knew where and how to hit. Enough to make you hurt and bleed but not enough to kill you.”
“Brimming with kindness.” This time his sarcasm spilled into his words. Chamtivos and his lackeys had enjoyed doling out punishment when they couldn't convince him to divulge the secret to breaking Megiddo's enchantment. They could have beat him to death without ever solving that mystery because Serovek didn't know it. Only the Khaskem knew how to break the spell he'd wrought on the monk. Even if Serovek did know, he would have died under their fists silent with the knowledge and Megiddo's enchantment unbroken.
“Anhuset.” She raised her gaze then, alerted by something in his voice. “Our chances of surviving tomorrow are slim at best, even with our plans and preparations.”
She lowered his shirt, silent for a moment as if weighing her next words. She pivoted to stand in front of him, her features more defined with her much closer proximity. Her body heat warmed his front, and her eyes had darkened to the gold of coins in a king's counting house. Serovek's breathing turned labored, a labor having nothing to do with compromised lungs or injuries.
He resisted the temptation to close his eyes when she laid her hand gently against his cheek. “If the gods abandon us, I will be proud to die fighting at the side of Serovek Pangion, Margrave of High Salure and battle mate to Brishen Khaskem.”
His heart galloping faster than a spooked horse, Serovek bent his head, tossing aside any lingering resistance to this fierce, courageous woman. He didn't have to bend far. She was nearly his height and slipped her hand to his neck to pull his head down to her.
He'd often imagined what kissing Anhuset might be like. All the scenarios had been variations of a passionate tangle of limbs, a hard press of mouths together, the score of her claws across his shoulders. They would gasp together and struggle, and pant, and fight each other for supremacy while they yanked each other's clothes off in a frenzy of desire.
This kiss was none of those things. The first brush of her lips on his was no more than a zephyr's whisper, the second a soft, curious tug on his lower lip, the third a luxuriant suckling of his upper and lower lips. The fourth kiss was a slow, thorough, glorious mutual exploration of the way her bottom lip felt a little fuller than her top one. Her breath tickled the sensitive corners of his mouth while her hand kneaded his nape. Her claws on his skin were a tantalizing contrast to the softness of her fingertips.
Serovek groaned, not from pain but from the dizzying euphoria of finally experiencing the fruition of a dream that had consumed his slumber many a night. He slid his arms around her to draw her closer, uncaring that his body twinged hard at her weight against the painful contusions decorating his torso. She copied his actions, the hand at his nape sliding down to the middle of his back while her other hand cupped one buttock for an appreciative squeeze.
He pulled back enough to look into her eyes, see that they were actually much like his, with sclera, irises, and pupils, all various shades of yellow that merged into the lamplight brightness so different from a human's. He grinned. “Had I known you liked my arse, I'd have invited you to squeeze it long before now.”
She surprised him further by bending to nibble his chin. The playful touch lit a fire in his body as powerful as if she stroked his cock. The touch was as brief as it was powerful. Anhuset's own smile was a faint lift of one corner of her mouth. She gave him another squeeze. “It's an exceptionally nice arse, margrave. I'll admit to admiring it more than a few times, but consider it a mercy as well as a compliment. It's one of the few spots on you that Chamtivos didn't pummel black and blue.”
“Don't let any of that stop you from touching wherever you please,” he said. He captured her lips once more, unable to resist their allure. She responded enthusiastically, her soft moan in harmony with his as she learned the shape of his lips and he learned hers.
No longer satisfied with the closed-mouth caresses they exchanged, he coaxed her mouth open with a gradual seduction. She stilled in his arms, arching deeper into his embrace, the stillness one of curiosity, of anticipation for what he might do next.
The glide of his tongue along the slick inner skin of her lower lip made her shiver, but she didn't stop him or pull away. He repeated the caress, this time on her upper lip, and her shiver strengthened to a shudder punctuated by a thin, surprised whine and the tightening grip of her arms on his back.
He drew back a second time. “The Kai don't kiss this way, do they?”
Anhuset shook her head. “No,” she said in a breathless voice. “Though I've seen thehercegeskiss thehercegeséin such a manner. She must have taught him.” Her gold coin eyes shone in the darkness. “Do it again. Teach me how.”
Her command sent another wave of desire purling through him. “I'm happy to oblige, mistress.”
She was an eager student and a quick learner, mimicking his endeavors to ignite the same fire in her that she did in him. He massaged the curve of her waist and her long back as she teased his lips with her tongue.
Certain now she would welcome more from him, he deepened the caress, slipping his tongue into her mouth, past her teeth to taste her even more, no longer caring if she scored him bloody.
His concern came to naught. Anhuset relaxed her jaw, widening the space between her natural bite so that he could make love to her mouth without injury. Purrs rumbled in her throat, sounds of pure pleasure that urged him to hold her ever tighter, kiss her even deeper.
Serovek had kissed many women in his lifetime, kisses that ultimately led to a roll in the sheets, the grass, or any convenient place offering a modicum of privacy. Those kisses had been pleasurable, lustful, and forgettable the next hour, the next day. These ephemeral moments with Anhuset in his arms would remain burned in his memory until he died—which might well be as soon as the inevitable dawn.
The reminder of their circumstances only served to sweeten the kiss and all those that came after it. When they finally halted to take a breath, they discovered they held each other so tightly, a leaf of the finest parchment wouldn't fit between them.
“You're a marvelous teacher,” she said between shallow pants.
“And you're an exceptional student.” He stroked her silver hair with one hand. “I could spend all night tasting you,” he said, thrilled that with her instinctive help, he'd discovered a technique for making love to her mouth without losing his tongue.
Anhuset caressed his lower back with both hands. “If we had the whole night, I'd want that and more, but we have only this short time. I must leave you to keep watch on the shore. For all we know, Chamtivos lied and will be here before dawn.” She gave him a wry look. “You may not survive me, margrave, but I'll do all in my power to make sure you survive this stupid hunt.”
His heart raced even faster at her words. That was an invitation, a declaration that he was welcomed into her bed and into her body. But this was Anhuset, and he never made assumptions regarding her, no matter how sure he might be. “So my reward for living will be dying from swiving you at a later date?”
She tapped his shoulder with one claw. “Don't presume. It will be me swiving you.” She stroked his matted hair, fingers catching in the strands stuck together with dried blood. “A reward for the pair of us. And I'm not in the habit of killing my lovers. You'll live.” She winked. “Barely.”
One more brief kiss before they set to work, she to gather those supplies and weapons she'd take with her, he to retreat behind the bramble wall and build a small heap of kindling for a signal fire later. If he was to be bait, he'd make it easy for Chamtivos to find him if not necessarily easy to kill him.
Before Anhuset left, Serovek caught her hand, entwined his fingers with hers, and lifted her palm to his mouth for a kiss. She reciprocated by pressing her lips to his knuckles. “Be careful,” he said. “Fight as if you're the only one they hunt. If you worry about me, they'll take you.”
