Barely clearing the door, he turned and grabbed her, pinning her against the wall and lifting her skirt to close his hands over naked hips.
“Why, you naughty thing, no undergarments.” He shifted his hands to her butt as he nibbled his way down her neck.
She hadn’t accepted another man’s favor all night, or the past three, waiting for this one. He was clean, he was handsome, and he had kind eyes. Since she did have some say in whom she spread her thighs for, she had waited and watched him.
With a smile, she pulled her linen shift up and over her head, freeing the large breasts that had teased and taunted Aryn half the night. “Not a thing, sirrah,” she replied. “I was hopin’ you’d like some company after all. And I wanted nothin’ in y’way.”
It had been nearly four months since Aryn had been around a woman clean enough that he didn’t fear some scourging dick rot if he bedded her.
His need for a woman was powerful. Without another thought in his mind, he freed his cock, then lifted her and drove into her, the soft, silky fist of her sex closing tightly over him.
“Sweet little thing.”
She gasped at the penetration, wet and soft, an eager moan falling from her lips as he lowered his head to catch a nipple between his teeth. He surged inside her, gripping the full, round curve of her ass.
Aryn held back until he felt the orgasm rippling through her, and then he rammed into her repeatedly, until his own climax broke free.
He then took her to the bed and guided her head down until she could wrap her pretty mouth around his cock, groaning with delight as she set to the task with obvious, unfaked pleasure. Her round, firm ass stayed high in the air as she worked him. Aryn cupped one soft white globe, massaging the flesh while his other hand wrapped in her loose hair. Occasionally, because that pretty butt just seemed to want it, he would give it a sharp little smack with the flat of his hand.
Her soft curls tossed over her shoulder, she stared at him through her lashes. Pulling away to swab the head of his penis with her tongue, she paused momentarily to grin at him. Going back to her task, she moved down to suckle and nibble on his sac before taking him into her mouth again. Moving slowly down the thick, rounded head, she took as much of him into her mouth as she could, falling into a slow steady rhythm that soon had Aryn lifting his hips to her caress and moaning.
The ruddy flesh of his cock gleamed wet as it slid in and out of her mouth, her hand gripping the base of his shaft, holding it steady as she moved. She slid the other hand under his hip, gripping a firmly muscled buttock and massaging.
“Oh, that was tasty,” she murmured after he came in her mouth. Swallowing it down, licking her lips, she stroked his penis lovingly as she sat down next to him. “Should I be goin’ now?”
“Hell, no.” Her eyes widened in surprise as he pulled her down onto him, guiding her legs to either side of his hips, then pushing inside her yet again.
Aryn thought later that the little servant had been the answer to a prayer.
He spent the night ridding himself of the desperate need to ride a woman and come inside her warm body. And she was tempting. Tempting enough that he found he had a bit of regret when he denied the silent question in her eyes before he ushered her out of the room.
But, no, he wasn’t letting her stay, would not wake and ride her one last time before he headed out.
Alone, he washed up, using water from the basin that had already gone icy, ignoring the chill out of years of practice.
Once clean, he dressed in a clean set of trousers and shirt, leaving his boots by the bed before stretching out.
As he drifted off to sleep a little later, he wondered one last time about the pretty, wild-eyed elf he had seen.
* * * * *
The wild-eyed elf had paid for the room and used a touch of the elemental magic most fae had to rid warm the water in the basin before washing, then again as she swept the room for signs of vermin.
Discovering only a couple of small mice, she left them alone and lay down, her body weary. The bed was lumpy but she’d slept on worse. The room was warm enough since she had chosen the one right over the kitchen.
And she had been serenaded by the sound of various couples fucking.
Unfortunately, her sensitive ears had made it possible for her to even pick out one set of voices—the ones right across the hall. It seemed Aryn the swordsman had the room across from hers and he’d spent half the night bedding the serving wench.
Not that Tyriel was jealous. Exactly. But the man wouldn’t have had to pay for sex. Tyriel would have been happy to join him in bed that night. Had even been working up to extending such an invitation. At her age, one might think she’d be skilled at it, but the truth was, she seldom had to practice.
Usually, men made the offer before she even decided if she was interested.
And yet, here she lay, her bed largely empty because the man she would have liked to have next to her chose to while the night away with a woman who took coin for the pleasure.
She didn’t begrudge those who chose to make a living in the flesh trade, as long as all parties were consensual—and no children were involved. But that envy rubbed her raw, her own vanity and a wounded sense of female pride.
Judging from the sound of it, Aryn’s companion came out with the better part of the bargain. More than once, soft feminine squeals of pleasure drifted past the door.
It made for a very, very restless night on Tyriel’s part.
* * * * *
“Of all the damned fools.” Tyriel faced down the guard who stood at the gate, attempting to bar her way out of the city. He continued to stand there, one grimy hand extended. “Taxation for leaving the city?”
How had this town slid so far downhill in the few short years since she had visited last? Mentally, she counted back and was somewhat disconcerted to realize it had been nearly fifteen years, not the two or three she had thought at first. Sighing, she shoved her hair back.
When you traveled alone, time had a way of slipping by with little notice.
“I was taxed when I entered, when I contracted a short job as bodyguard, when I paid for my room and board, and whenever I made a purchase. And you expect me to pay more simply for leaving?”
“Pay your dues, milady,” the guard repeated. “O’course, iffen yer short money, we kin work it out.” His eyes landed on her mouth, letting her know exactly how she could work it out.
I’d rather bite it off than suck it, nasty little man.
Instead of saying that, she pursed her lips and pretended to think.
“No. No, I don’t think so,” she said slowly. “Perhaps I’ll go make my complaints known to the constable and have him explain this new tax to me. I’m certain he’s meant to get a percentage of it, as the collector of such taxes. And of course it goes on to the town’s coffers. I’m certain he can help me better understand this issue, as well as explain exactly I am expected to pay it off. Then, perhaps I’ll pay.” She turned and studied the street behind her, frowning thoughtfully. “I believe his office is at the town center, just to the right of the rather gaudy and filthy fountain. Is that right?”
Swinging around at the guard’s strangled intake of air, she smiled brightly. “Is that a yes?”
His eyes, now wider and slightly panicked, guard’s eyes answered her question. There was no taxation. But few people thought to question it, she supposed. Even fewer would think to mention the constable. The damned guards in this town grew worse every trip.