FOREVER KNIGHTS: #7 King of Assassins
She Knows What She Does

She lifted her head from his boots and a faint smiled tugged a corner of her mouth.

She knows.

“Don’t laugh at me woman.”

“Are you feigning all this tiredness?”

Not in the least.

“No. But he’s never immune to you, no matter my condition.” He grumbled.

“Good to know.”

Is she flirting with me?

Oh…This is a trap. It’s going to hurt me. He leaned back. Putting his palms to the coverlet and exposing his body for her view. Have at.

She looked at his face, staring deeply in his eyes as nimble fingers made quick work of the lacings on his breeches. She coaxed them off and he lifted his hips to help her.

You have your way woman.

“What are you about?” He asked curiously.

Hopeful.

“Not what you think.”

Oh. Well, that’s devastating.

“Lay down.” She ordered.

He cooperated. Maybe there’s hope?

“Roll over.”

Nope.

Groaning, he turned onto his stomach. Scooping a downy pillow under his chin. We’ll see where this goes…

She climbed atop his legs, straddling his calves.

My bed will smell like her. He realized on a positive note. Hopes for loving now dashed.

But then he felt the fullness of her soft lips touch along the longest wound scar next to his spine. He stiffened.

“What are you doing?”

“Be quiet.”

Okay. Don’t stop then. He dropped his chin back to the pillow. Wondering if the rest of his body would end up rising from the reaction she had on his nether region.

Soft hands molded along his sides, skirting the ridges of broken ribs. She trailed featherlight kisses along the wounds marking his back. When she neared his shoulders he felt the silken brush of her hair on his skin. And the supple mounds of her breasts dragging lightly along his shoulder blades.

Definitely a trap.

“Why?” He asked.

“Because. You have love spilling from you. Bleeding from your every pore for your brothers, for every urchin you wander across…For me...This once someone will shower you with love.”

“Love?” He gasped, stunned.

This had begun with her seeming like she wanted to punish me.

“I’m going to make love to you.”

You’re wha-

What has inspired this? I must know for future!

“Do you know how?” He queried tentatively.

She suffered at the hands of a man. Did she ever learn to share pleasurable touch?

“Does it feel I do?” She countered. Sinking small square teeth into the tender skin running from neck to his shoulder bones, in a light nibble.

That was pleasurable.

“Why yes, yes it does.”

“Hmm.” She murmured, satisfied. Sliding over his back.

“But, so you know…” He murmured. “This is torture.”

Too slow. I just want to roll you over and ravish you until you’re whispering you belong to me.

“Good. Being here…In this castle with you…Day after day, is torture.”

What does that mean? He couldn’t tell from her tone if he should be insulted or complimented.

Probably insulted.

“Sebastian?”

“Yes?”

“Do you love me?” The words were nearly inaudible as she continued her ministrations. But she knew he heard her.

“Yes.” He breathed. Knowing the admission made him weak. Pliable to her.

As if she doesn’t know already…

The next morning Sebastian paced the expansive Dining Hall. Distorted sunlight seeped through the river walls and into the long windows of the Hall. Brightening the room in a wash of white light. Illuminating his shadow crossing the vibrant, tassled yellow rug. His boots thudded as they had been for several minutes now. He’d walked in, held out his hands and opened his mouth to speak. Realizing the words were wrong he quieted and began thoughtfully pacing. How do I propose it?

He’d been up much of the night considering the suggestion he was about to present to her.

When he finally looked up, Elsabet stared at him from across the table. A fork heaped with eggs partway to her mouth. Lips separated as she observed him through huge blue eyes. Clearly so absorbed in his frantic behavior she was suspended mid-bite.

“You can assist your prince by simply joining with me.” He blurted.