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He felt a little like Hades with Persephone. When she took his hand, she was agreeing that her old life was done. His island could have been the Underworld, for all her ability to get off it and while he was here, he was a god, even going so far as living in a temple. Their fingers touched and he hauled her up. She stopped only for her sword and then they were moving in the hazy way of dreams.
The stairs were no hindrance and with the door shut, the world was gone too. They never broke contact. Even when she lay her sword on the table, one hand was connected to his and she bounced back, pulling him down to her. His tongue slid into her mouth and he was barely aware of her hand coaxing him against her stomach but where his mind was not thinking, experience took over. He loosed the knot but before he could do anything more, she was already prying the leather bands away.
He slid his hands down her body, pushing her a step back toward the springs. Everywhere on the chiton was gritty. It needed to come off but before he could act on the impulse, he was distracted by her hands at his waist. She tugged at his shirt, lifting it up. Raising his arms, he unwillingly pulled away from her until he was free. The temple air was cool against his bare skin but her hands sliding down his chest and stomach were like fire, leaving heated trails in their wake.
They moved as one, united in a single purpose for the first time since they’d met. Clothes dropped in whispers over the marble floor. He grew more wonderfully frustrated every time she broke their kiss to remove something else until at last, she had nothing left, giving his hands free reign. How he had gone this long without this kind of intensity was a mystery. Whores would do what they were paid to do but what she did, she did for her own satisfaction. It was an incredible rush and he was loathe to let her go once they reached the pools.
She slid into the water first and he followed, locking his arms around her again as they moved ever backward to the same place they’d been only a few hours ago. There was no teasing on either side now. They were lost in the wine and each other. Their battle of wills could wait until tomorrow because here, there was no one need to conquer the other. They were on a level playing field, working together for the same goal.
He moved them both until her back was against the slick wall of the pool’s edge. Here, he left her mouth, dipping to trail kisses down her neck. Because they were in this deeper area, by the time that he got to her collarbone, his chin touched water. She was half hidden in liquid black. Gripping her by her backside, he lifted her up, wrapping her legs around him until her chest was level with his tongue.
Her skin tasted of salt and the spring water. She was soft in his hands, against his mouth, everywhere. He swirled his tongue over her nipple before catching it between his teeth, nipping it just enough to elicit a gasp before letting her sink down in the water so that he could capture her mouth again. His hands did not move from her legs, effectively locking them in place around his waist. Unlike if they’d been in the bed, he could not feel the heat of her against his stomach but it was enough to know she was there.
He could not bring himself to be gentle with her. Perhaps if he loved her but he trusted that neither of them had any illusions on that score. She’d made it quite clear that she still despised him earlier and the truth was he didn’t know her enough to care for her. What he liked was her spirit, the taste of her mouth, and their battles. Very few people challenged him and he liked the fight. So far as he was concerned, that’s all he required of her. It would be a mistake to let his guard down around her. After all, she still hadn’t taken back her desire to kill him. For all he knew, she may try in the morning. Likely not, but when this wore off, her hunger, his need, they would be right back where they started.
He laid his forehead against the curve of her shoulder and moved her so that he was in a position take her but went no further. Instead he moved his right hand between her thighs, running his finger over her sensitive spot while he moved his mouth to her neck and nipped at her, letting her decide if she would rock her hips forward or not. His pulse raced. He wanted her now but he would wait, if only for the satisfaction of seeing her face as she climbed the dizzy heights of carnal bliss.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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He felt a little like Hades with Persephone. When she took his hand, she was agreeing that her old life was done. His island could have been the Underworld, for all her ability to get off it and while he was here, he was a god, even going so far as living in a temple. Their fingers touched and he hauled her up. She stopped only for her sword and then they were moving in the hazy way of dreams.
The stairs were no hindrance and with the door shut, the world was gone too. They never broke contact. Even when she lay her sword on the table, one hand was connected to his and she bounced back, pulling him down to her. His tongue slid into her mouth and he was barely aware of her hand coaxing him against her stomach but where his mind was not thinking, experience took over. He loosed the knot but before he could do anything more, she was already prying the leather bands away.
He slid his hands down her body, pushing her a step back toward the springs. Everywhere on the chiton was gritty. It needed to come off but before he could act on the impulse, he was distracted by her hands at his waist. She tugged at his shirt, lifting it up. Raising his arms, he unwillingly pulled away from her until he was free. The temple air was cool against his bare skin but her hands sliding down his chest and stomach were like fire, leaving heated trails in their wake.
They moved as one, united in a single purpose for the first time since they’d met. Clothes dropped in whispers over the marble floor. He grew more wonderfully frustrated every time she broke their kiss to remove something else until at last, she had nothing left, giving his hands free reign. How he had gone this long without this kind of intensity was a mystery. Whores would do what they were paid to do but what she did, she did for her own satisfaction. It was an incredible rush and he was loathe to let her go once they reached the pools.
She slid into the water first and he followed, locking his arms around her again as they moved ever backward to the same place they’d been only a few hours ago. There was no teasing on either side now. They were lost in the wine and each other. Their battle of wills could wait until tomorrow because here, there was no one need to conquer the other. They were on a level playing field, working together for the same goal.
He moved them both until her back was against the slick wall of the pool’s edge. Here, he left her mouth, dipping to trail kisses down her neck. Because they were in this deeper area, by the time that he got to her collarbone, his chin touched water. She was half hidden in liquid black. Gripping her by her backside, he lifted her up, wrapping her legs around him until her chest was level with his tongue.
Her skin tasted of salt and the spring water. She was soft in his hands, against his mouth, everywhere. He swirled his tongue over her nipple before catching it between his teeth, nipping it just enough to elicit a gasp before letting her sink down in the water so that he could capture her mouth again. His hands did not move from her legs, effectively locking them in place around his waist. Unlike if they’d been in the bed, he could not feel the heat of her against his stomach but it was enough to know she was there.
He could not bring himself to be gentle with her. Perhaps if he loved her but he trusted that neither of them had any illusions on that score. She’d made it quite clear that she still despised him earlier and the truth was he didn’t know her enough to care for her. What he liked was her spirit, the taste of her mouth, and their battles. Very few people challenged him and he liked the fight. So far as he was concerned, that’s all he required of her. It would be a mistake to let his guard down around her. After all, she still hadn’t taken back her desire to kill him. For all he knew, she may try in the morning. Likely not, but when this wore off, her hunger, his need, they would be right back where they started.
He laid his forehead against the curve of her shoulder and moved her so that he was in a position take her but went no further. Instead he moved his right hand between her thighs, running his finger over her sensitive spot while he moved his mouth to her neck and nipped at her, letting her decide if she would rock her hips forward or not. His pulse raced. He wanted her now but he would wait, if only for the satisfaction of seeing her face as she climbed the dizzy heights of carnal bliss.
He felt a little like Hades with Persephone. When she took his hand, she was agreeing that her old life was done. His island could have been the Underworld, for all her ability to get off it and while he was here, he was a god, even going so far as living in a temple. Their fingers touched and he hauled her up. She stopped only for her sword and then they were moving in the hazy way of dreams.
The stairs were no hindrance and with the door shut, the world was gone too. They never broke contact. Even when she lay her sword on the table, one hand was connected to his and she bounced back, pulling him down to her. His tongue slid into her mouth and he was barely aware of her hand coaxing him against her stomach but where his mind was not thinking, experience took over. He loosed the knot but before he could do anything more, she was already prying the leather bands away.
He slid his hands down her body, pushing her a step back toward the springs. Everywhere on the chiton was gritty. It needed to come off but before he could act on the impulse, he was distracted by her hands at his waist. She tugged at his shirt, lifting it up. Raising his arms, he unwillingly pulled away from her until he was free. The temple air was cool against his bare skin but her hands sliding down his chest and stomach were like fire, leaving heated trails in their wake.
They moved as one, united in a single purpose for the first time since they’d met. Clothes dropped in whispers over the marble floor. He grew more wonderfully frustrated every time she broke their kiss to remove something else until at last, she had nothing left, giving his hands free reign. How he had gone this long without this kind of intensity was a mystery. Whores would do what they were paid to do but what she did, she did for her own satisfaction. It was an incredible rush and he was loathe to let her go once they reached the pools.
She slid into the water first and he followed, locking his arms around her again as they moved ever backward to the same place they’d been only a few hours ago. There was no teasing on either side now. They were lost in the wine and each other. Their battle of wills could wait until tomorrow because here, there was no one need to conquer the other. They were on a level playing field, working together for the same goal.
He moved them both until her back was against the slick wall of the pool’s edge. Here, he left her mouth, dipping to trail kisses down her neck. Because they were in this deeper area, by the time that he got to her collarbone, his chin touched water. She was half hidden in liquid black. Gripping her by her backside, he lifted her up, wrapping her legs around him until her chest was level with his tongue.
Her skin tasted of salt and the spring water. She was soft in his hands, against his mouth, everywhere. He swirled his tongue over her nipple before catching it between his teeth, nipping it just enough to elicit a gasp before letting her sink down in the water so that he could capture her mouth again. His hands did not move from her legs, effectively locking them in place around his waist. Unlike if they’d been in the bed, he could not feel the heat of her against his stomach but it was enough to know she was there.
He could not bring himself to be gentle with her. Perhaps if he loved her but he trusted that neither of them had any illusions on that score. She’d made it quite clear that she still despised him earlier and the truth was he didn’t know her enough to care for her. What he liked was her spirit, the taste of her mouth, and their battles. Very few people challenged him and he liked the fight. So far as he was concerned, that’s all he required of her. It would be a mistake to let his guard down around her. After all, she still hadn’t taken back her desire to kill him. For all he knew, she may try in the morning. Likely not, but when this wore off, her hunger, his need, they would be right back where they started.
He laid his forehead against the curve of her shoulder and moved her so that he was in a position take her but went no further. Instead he moved his right hand between her thighs, running his finger over her sensitive spot while he moved his mouth to her neck and nipped at her, letting her decide if she would rock her hips forward or not. His pulse raced. He wanted her now but he would wait, if only for the satisfaction of seeing her face as she climbed the dizzy heights of carnal bliss.
Lukos pulled her to him when they were both in the water; his sure arms wrapping about her ribs to hold her to his frame and she let him; her hands clinging to his body as his mouth took hers. Their playful kisses getting here were gone; replaced with demanding heated ones. His tongue darted over her mouth; demanding entry and she permitted it; flicking her own against his before his chin turned and he invaded her mouth. Nails bit onto his bicep as the other climbed to his neck; wrapping around the back of it so she could tangle her fingers in his hair; still dry from being left loose all day.
His hold on her was tight; it didn't placate or attempt to soothe her. It wasn't the careful ministrations of a man who knew of her innocence and wanted to protect her. He was controlling and possessive; intent on taking her and she wanted him to. He pushed her back towards where they'd stood earlier that day; over uneven rocks jutting surfaces. She lifted herself by his shoulder so he carried her; keeping their mouths level and their kiss unbroken.
He pushed her against the stone wall and she hissed as it scratched at the sensitive skin of her back. But their bodies were all but covered in water now and there was something more secretive; forbidden. She relaxed her arm so she wasn't holding herself up against him and allowed the hand on his bicep to explore beneath the dark water which covered her sins from the eyes of the Gods. They grazed over his ribs; down the side of his waist; nails dragging against flesh as fingers wrapped around his torso. His back curved deliciously and muscles were well formed against the smallest part that dipped before filling out his backside. She moved her hand up his spine as his mouth left hers; trailing heated kisses and nips against her jaw and neck. She let her head fall to the side so he had full access to the column of her throat; the sound of her gasps echoed off the walls as he buried his lips against the curve of her shoulder. His hands moved low on her waist; over her butt before hands dug in and he hoisted her up. Her legs easily tangled around his torso and she turned to look down at him as her hand moved to his arm from his back. His dark eyes were hungry and hard. There was no love there and she had no illusions that there was. How could either of them love each other, pitted so directly against one another? She was constantly battling him for her freedom.. for her own say and to be treated as the woman and, to an extent, the noble she was. It just so happened she had the skill of a pirate and warrior to defend herself.
No...there was no love here, and it was difficult to decide who was in control. Perhaps this was where they parlayed. This was their truce. Where they could both demand of each other and be equal in those demands. Tomorrow they could fight. They could best each other and start new power plays. Today they both demanded satisfaction from the other. He challenged her. He didn't shy away from her out of manner and he didn't let her have her way. He infuriated her and abandoned her and confused her only by returning. She was used to cat and mouse, but he didn't chase her as others did. Others that weren't even worth mentioning because she had no interest in them. He wasn't even a cheerleader when she bested Arktos. She hadn't felt his support one way or the other which left it to her own devices. Her freedom was hers to take, not his to give.
His hands shifted her hips over him and she knew they were aligned. She was open for him to take and it gave her a heady thrill, but also caused her stomach to twist anxiously as well. She'd been told it could hurt. ...But she couldn't imagine anything hurting as much as what she'd already been through this week. His head rested on her shoulder and she brushed kisses against his temple as she tightened the hold on his hair. His mouth played against the sensitive flesh of her neck as his hand dipped between her legs; pressing into private folds to find the tiny nub that seemed to control every nerve in her body. She gasped against his cheek as he moved his hand against her; cords of lightening rippling through her body as he worked to arouse her further. Her arms tightened around his shoulders and she rocked her hips in time with his hands. It felt..wanton and rebellious. A lady would never behave this way, but then again...was she ever really a lady? All the while something built inside of her. This wasn't enough..she wanted more from him. Her body pleaded for his part for more than this teasing. Fingers left the entrapment of his hair and curled around his throat; her thumb grazing down the front as she shifted to drag her mouth over his neck; nipping at sensitive flesh as he'd done but gripping the column of his throat possessively. "Lukos.." The plea of his name on her lips was anything but a demand. It was a need... beseeching him for more. The dichotomy of her hand around his throat and how she pleaded with him to take her... an indication she would never submit to him...but she would bend from time to time....when it meant that they both got what they wanted in the end.
JD
Staff Team
JD
Staff Team
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Lukos pulled her to him when they were both in the water; his sure arms wrapping about her ribs to hold her to his frame and she let him; her hands clinging to his body as his mouth took hers. Their playful kisses getting here were gone; replaced with demanding heated ones. His tongue darted over her mouth; demanding entry and she permitted it; flicking her own against his before his chin turned and he invaded her mouth. Nails bit onto his bicep as the other climbed to his neck; wrapping around the back of it so she could tangle her fingers in his hair; still dry from being left loose all day.
His hold on her was tight; it didn't placate or attempt to soothe her. It wasn't the careful ministrations of a man who knew of her innocence and wanted to protect her. He was controlling and possessive; intent on taking her and she wanted him to. He pushed her back towards where they'd stood earlier that day; over uneven rocks jutting surfaces. She lifted herself by his shoulder so he carried her; keeping their mouths level and their kiss unbroken.
He pushed her against the stone wall and she hissed as it scratched at the sensitive skin of her back. But their bodies were all but covered in water now and there was something more secretive; forbidden. She relaxed her arm so she wasn't holding herself up against him and allowed the hand on his bicep to explore beneath the dark water which covered her sins from the eyes of the Gods. They grazed over his ribs; down the side of his waist; nails dragging against flesh as fingers wrapped around his torso. His back curved deliciously and muscles were well formed against the smallest part that dipped before filling out his backside. She moved her hand up his spine as his mouth left hers; trailing heated kisses and nips against her jaw and neck. She let her head fall to the side so he had full access to the column of her throat; the sound of her gasps echoed off the walls as he buried his lips against the curve of her shoulder. His hands moved low on her waist; over her butt before hands dug in and he hoisted her up. Her legs easily tangled around his torso and she turned to look down at him as her hand moved to his arm from his back. His dark eyes were hungry and hard. There was no love there and she had no illusions that there was. How could either of them love each other, pitted so directly against one another? She was constantly battling him for her freedom.. for her own say and to be treated as the woman and, to an extent, the noble she was. It just so happened she had the skill of a pirate and warrior to defend herself.
No...there was no love here, and it was difficult to decide who was in control. Perhaps this was where they parlayed. This was their truce. Where they could both demand of each other and be equal in those demands. Tomorrow they could fight. They could best each other and start new power plays. Today they both demanded satisfaction from the other. He challenged her. He didn't shy away from her out of manner and he didn't let her have her way. He infuriated her and abandoned her and confused her only by returning. She was used to cat and mouse, but he didn't chase her as others did. Others that weren't even worth mentioning because she had no interest in them. He wasn't even a cheerleader when she bested Arktos. She hadn't felt his support one way or the other which left it to her own devices. Her freedom was hers to take, not his to give.
His hands shifted her hips over him and she knew they were aligned. She was open for him to take and it gave her a heady thrill, but also caused her stomach to twist anxiously as well. She'd been told it could hurt. ...But she couldn't imagine anything hurting as much as what she'd already been through this week. His head rested on her shoulder and she brushed kisses against his temple as she tightened the hold on his hair. His mouth played against the sensitive flesh of her neck as his hand dipped between her legs; pressing into private folds to find the tiny nub that seemed to control every nerve in her body. She gasped against his cheek as he moved his hand against her; cords of lightening rippling through her body as he worked to arouse her further. Her arms tightened around his shoulders and she rocked her hips in time with his hands. It felt..wanton and rebellious. A lady would never behave this way, but then again...was she ever really a lady? All the while something built inside of her. This wasn't enough..she wanted more from him. Her body pleaded for his part for more than this teasing. Fingers left the entrapment of his hair and curled around his throat; her thumb grazing down the front as she shifted to drag her mouth over his neck; nipping at sensitive flesh as he'd done but gripping the column of his throat possessively. "Lukos.." The plea of his name on her lips was anything but a demand. It was a need... beseeching him for more. The dichotomy of her hand around his throat and how she pleaded with him to take her... an indication she would never submit to him...but she would bend from time to time....when it meant that they both got what they wanted in the end.
Lukos pulled her to him when they were both in the water; his sure arms wrapping about her ribs to hold her to his frame and she let him; her hands clinging to his body as his mouth took hers. Their playful kisses getting here were gone; replaced with demanding heated ones. His tongue darted over her mouth; demanding entry and she permitted it; flicking her own against his before his chin turned and he invaded her mouth. Nails bit onto his bicep as the other climbed to his neck; wrapping around the back of it so she could tangle her fingers in his hair; still dry from being left loose all day.
His hold on her was tight; it didn't placate or attempt to soothe her. It wasn't the careful ministrations of a man who knew of her innocence and wanted to protect her. He was controlling and possessive; intent on taking her and she wanted him to. He pushed her back towards where they'd stood earlier that day; over uneven rocks jutting surfaces. She lifted herself by his shoulder so he carried her; keeping their mouths level and their kiss unbroken.
He pushed her against the stone wall and she hissed as it scratched at the sensitive skin of her back. But their bodies were all but covered in water now and there was something more secretive; forbidden. She relaxed her arm so she wasn't holding herself up against him and allowed the hand on his bicep to explore beneath the dark water which covered her sins from the eyes of the Gods. They grazed over his ribs; down the side of his waist; nails dragging against flesh as fingers wrapped around his torso. His back curved deliciously and muscles were well formed against the smallest part that dipped before filling out his backside. She moved her hand up his spine as his mouth left hers; trailing heated kisses and nips against her jaw and neck. She let her head fall to the side so he had full access to the column of her throat; the sound of her gasps echoed off the walls as he buried his lips against the curve of her shoulder. His hands moved low on her waist; over her butt before hands dug in and he hoisted her up. Her legs easily tangled around his torso and she turned to look down at him as her hand moved to his arm from his back. His dark eyes were hungry and hard. There was no love there and she had no illusions that there was. How could either of them love each other, pitted so directly against one another? She was constantly battling him for her freedom.. for her own say and to be treated as the woman and, to an extent, the noble she was. It just so happened she had the skill of a pirate and warrior to defend herself.
No...there was no love here, and it was difficult to decide who was in control. Perhaps this was where they parlayed. This was their truce. Where they could both demand of each other and be equal in those demands. Tomorrow they could fight. They could best each other and start new power plays. Today they both demanded satisfaction from the other. He challenged her. He didn't shy away from her out of manner and he didn't let her have her way. He infuriated her and abandoned her and confused her only by returning. She was used to cat and mouse, but he didn't chase her as others did. Others that weren't even worth mentioning because she had no interest in them. He wasn't even a cheerleader when she bested Arktos. She hadn't felt his support one way or the other which left it to her own devices. Her freedom was hers to take, not his to give.
His hands shifted her hips over him and she knew they were aligned. She was open for him to take and it gave her a heady thrill, but also caused her stomach to twist anxiously as well. She'd been told it could hurt. ...But she couldn't imagine anything hurting as much as what she'd already been through this week. His head rested on her shoulder and she brushed kisses against his temple as she tightened the hold on his hair. His mouth played against the sensitive flesh of her neck as his hand dipped between her legs; pressing into private folds to find the tiny nub that seemed to control every nerve in her body. She gasped against his cheek as he moved his hand against her; cords of lightening rippling through her body as he worked to arouse her further. Her arms tightened around his shoulders and she rocked her hips in time with his hands. It felt..wanton and rebellious. A lady would never behave this way, but then again...was she ever really a lady? All the while something built inside of her. This wasn't enough..she wanted more from him. Her body pleaded for his part for more than this teasing. Fingers left the entrapment of his hair and curled around his throat; her thumb grazing down the front as she shifted to drag her mouth over his neck; nipping at sensitive flesh as he'd done but gripping the column of his throat possessively. "Lukos.." The plea of his name on her lips was anything but a demand. It was a need... beseeching him for more. The dichotomy of her hand around his throat and how she pleaded with him to take her... an indication she would never submit to him...but she would bend from time to time....when it meant that they both got what they wanted in the end.
A grin spread across his mouth as she panted against his ear while leaving distracted kisses across his temple. Her fingers twisted in his hair, drawing out tolerable pain. He lifted his head from her shoulder as she gasped against him. It was hard to touch his lips to her mouth. She was moving to the rhythm of his hand, lost, it seemed to everything but the feeling he ignited within her. It was mesmerizing to watch her but he wasn’t allowed to for long.
She hugged him back against her as she tightened their embrace, seeming to need him closer. He didn’t fight as she closed her hand over his throat. It was new and he closed his eyes, allowing her to do as she pleased. The feeling of her lips across the vulnerable flesh of his neck was pleasurably distracting but it was her teeth that made him suck in a breath. There was no pain but there was the threat of it. He, like her, kissed any part he could reach; her temple, her hair, her cheek, under her jaw when she pulled back.
“Lukos…” The breathy whine of his name gasped against his skin made him grip her harder. The alcohol combined with her moan was making him dizzy with anticipation but he did not give in to her yet. Instead he defied her grasp on his throat by pushing his knee against the rock and letting her balance there. Using his now free hand, he grabbed her by the hair, pulling her to his lips. He wanted her tongue, her taste. He wanted her to moan into his mouth as he at last did as she wanted.
Slowly he brought his hand back down, again supporting her backside, and shifting her hips against his, he entered her. The hitch in her breath told him she needed him to stop. Her fingernails warned him to go no further. His fingers teased her nub, encouraging her to focus on the pleasure inside the pain. Once she relaxed her hold, he pushed again, and was met with the same shuddering gasp. In this way, he permitted himself to be gentle, and for her to get used to him. She was tense around him. His own breathing was ragged. When she was ready, he rocked against her, lost to the feeling.
He rode with her as they twisted together, bodies locked in an inseparable embrace, their movements rushing them towards climax. The lamps flickered around them. Their panting echoed off the cave walls. It was impossible to touch her, lick her, kiss her, bite her everywhere he wanted. The sensations rocketing through him were blissful torture, having to wait, needing to wait but at last, he could feel and hear her nearing release. Her grip on him was painful, magnificent, and her total loss of control drove him over the edge.
He clung to her just as tightly, riding the high for as long as he was able. Slowly, they came down and he let them both sag to their shoulders in the water. Grabbing her by the hips, he pulled her so that she was almost on top of him as he leaned back in the water and kissed her, softer than he had ever done up to now. “Don’t go to the ship,” he murmured against her mouth. “...I want you to stay with me.” There were no guarantees between them and he felt the need to make sure she went nowhere that he would not be.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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A grin spread across his mouth as she panted against his ear while leaving distracted kisses across his temple. Her fingers twisted in his hair, drawing out tolerable pain. He lifted his head from her shoulder as she gasped against him. It was hard to touch his lips to her mouth. She was moving to the rhythm of his hand, lost, it seemed to everything but the feeling he ignited within her. It was mesmerizing to watch her but he wasn’t allowed to for long.
She hugged him back against her as she tightened their embrace, seeming to need him closer. He didn’t fight as she closed her hand over his throat. It was new and he closed his eyes, allowing her to do as she pleased. The feeling of her lips across the vulnerable flesh of his neck was pleasurably distracting but it was her teeth that made him suck in a breath. There was no pain but there was the threat of it. He, like her, kissed any part he could reach; her temple, her hair, her cheek, under her jaw when she pulled back.
“Lukos…” The breathy whine of his name gasped against his skin made him grip her harder. The alcohol combined with her moan was making him dizzy with anticipation but he did not give in to her yet. Instead he defied her grasp on his throat by pushing his knee against the rock and letting her balance there. Using his now free hand, he grabbed her by the hair, pulling her to his lips. He wanted her tongue, her taste. He wanted her to moan into his mouth as he at last did as she wanted.
Slowly he brought his hand back down, again supporting her backside, and shifting her hips against his, he entered her. The hitch in her breath told him she needed him to stop. Her fingernails warned him to go no further. His fingers teased her nub, encouraging her to focus on the pleasure inside the pain. Once she relaxed her hold, he pushed again, and was met with the same shuddering gasp. In this way, he permitted himself to be gentle, and for her to get used to him. She was tense around him. His own breathing was ragged. When she was ready, he rocked against her, lost to the feeling.
He rode with her as they twisted together, bodies locked in an inseparable embrace, their movements rushing them towards climax. The lamps flickered around them. Their panting echoed off the cave walls. It was impossible to touch her, lick her, kiss her, bite her everywhere he wanted. The sensations rocketing through him were blissful torture, having to wait, needing to wait but at last, he could feel and hear her nearing release. Her grip on him was painful, magnificent, and her total loss of control drove him over the edge.
He clung to her just as tightly, riding the high for as long as he was able. Slowly, they came down and he let them both sag to their shoulders in the water. Grabbing her by the hips, he pulled her so that she was almost on top of him as he leaned back in the water and kissed her, softer than he had ever done up to now. “Don’t go to the ship,” he murmured against her mouth. “...I want you to stay with me.” There were no guarantees between them and he felt the need to make sure she went nowhere that he would not be.
A grin spread across his mouth as she panted against his ear while leaving distracted kisses across his temple. Her fingers twisted in his hair, drawing out tolerable pain. He lifted his head from her shoulder as she gasped against him. It was hard to touch his lips to her mouth. She was moving to the rhythm of his hand, lost, it seemed to everything but the feeling he ignited within her. It was mesmerizing to watch her but he wasn’t allowed to for long.
She hugged him back against her as she tightened their embrace, seeming to need him closer. He didn’t fight as she closed her hand over his throat. It was new and he closed his eyes, allowing her to do as she pleased. The feeling of her lips across the vulnerable flesh of his neck was pleasurably distracting but it was her teeth that made him suck in a breath. There was no pain but there was the threat of it. He, like her, kissed any part he could reach; her temple, her hair, her cheek, under her jaw when she pulled back.
“Lukos…” The breathy whine of his name gasped against his skin made him grip her harder. The alcohol combined with her moan was making him dizzy with anticipation but he did not give in to her yet. Instead he defied her grasp on his throat by pushing his knee against the rock and letting her balance there. Using his now free hand, he grabbed her by the hair, pulling her to his lips. He wanted her tongue, her taste. He wanted her to moan into his mouth as he at last did as she wanted.
Slowly he brought his hand back down, again supporting her backside, and shifting her hips against his, he entered her. The hitch in her breath told him she needed him to stop. Her fingernails warned him to go no further. His fingers teased her nub, encouraging her to focus on the pleasure inside the pain. Once she relaxed her hold, he pushed again, and was met with the same shuddering gasp. In this way, he permitted himself to be gentle, and for her to get used to him. She was tense around him. His own breathing was ragged. When she was ready, he rocked against her, lost to the feeling.
He rode with her as they twisted together, bodies locked in an inseparable embrace, their movements rushing them towards climax. The lamps flickered around them. Their panting echoed off the cave walls. It was impossible to touch her, lick her, kiss her, bite her everywhere he wanted. The sensations rocketing through him were blissful torture, having to wait, needing to wait but at last, he could feel and hear her nearing release. Her grip on him was painful, magnificent, and her total loss of control drove him over the edge.
He clung to her just as tightly, riding the high for as long as he was able. Slowly, they came down and he let them both sag to their shoulders in the water. Grabbing her by the hips, he pulled her so that she was almost on top of him as he leaned back in the water and kissed her, softer than he had ever done up to now. “Don’t go to the ship,” he murmured against her mouth. “...I want you to stay with me.” There were no guarantees between them and he felt the need to make sure she went nowhere that he would not be.
The frustrated whine of his name seemed to stir him in a way and his hand moved from holding her against him up her back and into her hair; tangling to drag her mouth back to his and she relented. She found his lips again and kissed him with more distracted passion as his hand between her legs made her weak with need. She shifted her hands to drag against his jaw; holding his face between her palms as she returned his kiss and he let go of her hand; it disappeared beneath the water again; curling around her hip to align her against his erection. He didn't give her time to rethink or to second guess her decision. She felt him press against her and then he thrust inside in one swift move.
Pain radiated through her as the thin vestiges of her virginity were broken. She sucked in a shaky breath and her nails bit into his neck. Pain for pain. Giving as good as she got. Lukos paused inside her; coaxing her back, He caressed that small nub between her legs; helping her to think of something else besides the pain and she broke the kiss; pressing her forehead against the bridge of his nose as she followed his lead.. understanding that he hadn't hurt her on purpose. And after a while, the stinging pain subsided and a slow delicious warmth began to replace it. She rocked her hips against him; the wonderful feeling of him moving slowly in and out of her was something altogether new she'd never thought could feel so.. distractingly intimate. Her nails eased off of his neck and she brushed her lips against his as the mood of their interaction changed to something softer and more gentle. She was glad for it.. she needed it. But as that tension began building inside of her again; the cord grew taught, her kisses deepened and became more demanding as they were before.
He was everything she didn't even consider him to be; reading her body and her tells like a well-read book. When it became too overwhelming he slowed or shifted in a different direction and when she needed him to push harder, he was anything but merciful. When she finally felt like the world was going to fall apart around her, he clung to her; pushing her over the edge of the cliff until her body tensed and the world felt like it was shattering around her. She cried out; lost in her passion; unable to remain muted and stoic in their exchange. Nails dug into his skin; raking long welts over muscled flesh. And when she felt him shudder against her, she gathered him to her; brushing heated kisses along his jaw as he rode his own wave of release. She felt weak and spent; every nerve ending seemed to have sacrificed itself for the cause. He leaned back and she curled into him; tucking her arms against his body as he kissed her softly. She felt like a contented kitten curled against him and she returned his soft supplications with her own; unsure and unwilling to detach from him.. as if they were somehow fused together now. His words brushed her temple like a caress and she bowed her chin; brushing her nose against his cheek as she purred. "...mmm..... Don't put a collar on me.."
Her lips curled up in an amused smirk and she twisted so she could look at him; her hand finding his throat so she could brush her thumb down the center again; reminding him of their equality. Neither of them wore a collar and neither of them ever would. She brushed her lips over his again; a soft caress of satisfaction. "..Take me to bed..." It was said as no more than a whisper against his lips. A command of her own that confirmed his request. Her eyes were lost in his; their dark, intimidating hostility muted after they'd been together. They were now softer and there were creases in the corner formed only from years of smiling. She traced them gently with her thumb.
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The frustrated whine of his name seemed to stir him in a way and his hand moved from holding her against him up her back and into her hair; tangling to drag her mouth back to his and she relented. She found his lips again and kissed him with more distracted passion as his hand between her legs made her weak with need. She shifted her hands to drag against his jaw; holding his face between her palms as she returned his kiss and he let go of her hand; it disappeared beneath the water again; curling around her hip to align her against his erection. He didn't give her time to rethink or to second guess her decision. She felt him press against her and then he thrust inside in one swift move.
Pain radiated through her as the thin vestiges of her virginity were broken. She sucked in a shaky breath and her nails bit into his neck. Pain for pain. Giving as good as she got. Lukos paused inside her; coaxing her back, He caressed that small nub between her legs; helping her to think of something else besides the pain and she broke the kiss; pressing her forehead against the bridge of his nose as she followed his lead.. understanding that he hadn't hurt her on purpose. And after a while, the stinging pain subsided and a slow delicious warmth began to replace it. She rocked her hips against him; the wonderful feeling of him moving slowly in and out of her was something altogether new she'd never thought could feel so.. distractingly intimate. Her nails eased off of his neck and she brushed her lips against his as the mood of their interaction changed to something softer and more gentle. She was glad for it.. she needed it. But as that tension began building inside of her again; the cord grew taught, her kisses deepened and became more demanding as they were before.
He was everything she didn't even consider him to be; reading her body and her tells like a well-read book. When it became too overwhelming he slowed or shifted in a different direction and when she needed him to push harder, he was anything but merciful. When she finally felt like the world was going to fall apart around her, he clung to her; pushing her over the edge of the cliff until her body tensed and the world felt like it was shattering around her. She cried out; lost in her passion; unable to remain muted and stoic in their exchange. Nails dug into his skin; raking long welts over muscled flesh. And when she felt him shudder against her, she gathered him to her; brushing heated kisses along his jaw as he rode his own wave of release. She felt weak and spent; every nerve ending seemed to have sacrificed itself for the cause. He leaned back and she curled into him; tucking her arms against his body as he kissed her softly. She felt like a contented kitten curled against him and she returned his soft supplications with her own; unsure and unwilling to detach from him.. as if they were somehow fused together now. His words brushed her temple like a caress and she bowed her chin; brushing her nose against his cheek as she purred. "...mmm..... Don't put a collar on me.."
Her lips curled up in an amused smirk and she twisted so she could look at him; her hand finding his throat so she could brush her thumb down the center again; reminding him of their equality. Neither of them wore a collar and neither of them ever would. She brushed her lips over his again; a soft caress of satisfaction. "..Take me to bed..." It was said as no more than a whisper against his lips. A command of her own that confirmed his request. Her eyes were lost in his; their dark, intimidating hostility muted after they'd been together. They were now softer and there were creases in the corner formed only from years of smiling. She traced them gently with her thumb.
The frustrated whine of his name seemed to stir him in a way and his hand moved from holding her against him up her back and into her hair; tangling to drag her mouth back to his and she relented. She found his lips again and kissed him with more distracted passion as his hand between her legs made her weak with need. She shifted her hands to drag against his jaw; holding his face between her palms as she returned his kiss and he let go of her hand; it disappeared beneath the water again; curling around her hip to align her against his erection. He didn't give her time to rethink or to second guess her decision. She felt him press against her and then he thrust inside in one swift move.
Pain radiated through her as the thin vestiges of her virginity were broken. She sucked in a shaky breath and her nails bit into his neck. Pain for pain. Giving as good as she got. Lukos paused inside her; coaxing her back, He caressed that small nub between her legs; helping her to think of something else besides the pain and she broke the kiss; pressing her forehead against the bridge of his nose as she followed his lead.. understanding that he hadn't hurt her on purpose. And after a while, the stinging pain subsided and a slow delicious warmth began to replace it. She rocked her hips against him; the wonderful feeling of him moving slowly in and out of her was something altogether new she'd never thought could feel so.. distractingly intimate. Her nails eased off of his neck and she brushed her lips against his as the mood of their interaction changed to something softer and more gentle. She was glad for it.. she needed it. But as that tension began building inside of her again; the cord grew taught, her kisses deepened and became more demanding as they were before.
He was everything she didn't even consider him to be; reading her body and her tells like a well-read book. When it became too overwhelming he slowed or shifted in a different direction and when she needed him to push harder, he was anything but merciful. When she finally felt like the world was going to fall apart around her, he clung to her; pushing her over the edge of the cliff until her body tensed and the world felt like it was shattering around her. She cried out; lost in her passion; unable to remain muted and stoic in their exchange. Nails dug into his skin; raking long welts over muscled flesh. And when she felt him shudder against her, she gathered him to her; brushing heated kisses along his jaw as he rode his own wave of release. She felt weak and spent; every nerve ending seemed to have sacrificed itself for the cause. He leaned back and she curled into him; tucking her arms against his body as he kissed her softly. She felt like a contented kitten curled against him and she returned his soft supplications with her own; unsure and unwilling to detach from him.. as if they were somehow fused together now. His words brushed her temple like a caress and she bowed her chin; brushing her nose against his cheek as she purred. "...mmm..... Don't put a collar on me.."
Her lips curled up in an amused smirk and she twisted so she could look at him; her hand finding his throat so she could brush her thumb down the center again; reminding him of their equality. Neither of them wore a collar and neither of them ever would. She brushed her lips over his again; a soft caress of satisfaction. "..Take me to bed..." It was said as no more than a whisper against his lips. A command of her own that confirmed his request. Her eyes were lost in his; their dark, intimidating hostility muted after they'd been together. They were now softer and there were creases in the corner formed only from years of smiling. She traced them gently with her thumb.
"...mmm..... Don't put a collar on me.."
An amused chuckle met her words and his smile only grew when she looked up at him. The thought of trying to get a collar on her now and the repercussions of it made him shake his head slowly, his eyes never leaving hers. As if in emphasis, she ran her thumb down his throat. It was uncomfortable but his smirk did not falter. He set his jaw. She would not own him.
She brushed her lips against his and he relaxed a little, realizing she hadn’t intended a fight. Her whispered command did not raise his hackles like a different order would have. This one was acquiescing to his request. Another truce. His gaze softened and he closed his eyes, focusing on the caresses of her fingers tracing him, the way she tasted different now than before. He was ready to be tired, to at last be peaceful.
His drive to dominate was gone, leaving him much more tame. The pool was comfortable and he didn’t want to get out just yet but he could feel himself getting more drowsy by the second. She was right. It was time to leave. He kept her against him until they reached the other end of the pool. Adjusting his hold on her, he twisted, lifting her out of the water and setting her down on the edge. From there she was on her own.
He pulled himself out of the water, realizing that they’d been so preoccupied with getting each other naked that they hadn’t thought to stop for a sheet. Even now he was a little unsteady but not quite so bad as before. Goosebumps raced along his body as the air pressed against his skin. The cave itself was not as cold as some tended to be but the other side led out to the cliffs; the waves crashing against the rocks were just audible in here, making gentle echoes.
As he’d done outside, he reached down for her, helping her to her feet although this time he did not lead her. Instead he whisked her up into his arms, carrying her from the cave and through the temple passage. He smirked down at the pools of fabric scattered here and there. This had been worth it; not taking her before the fight. She was all he had imagined she might be and a little more; he liked the stinging feeling pulsing against his skin from her nails.
He set her down beside the crate she’d laid her dagger on earlier that day and grabbed a sheet for himself, trusting her to get her own. As soon as he was dry, he set out extinguishing the clay lamps still burning around the temple. The sheet he draped over a crate and crawled into bed, as naked as he’d been before. One lamp still burned, this one left for her to use and put out when she was done.
It felt odd to wait for her in this bed that he’d never shared with anyone. If he wanted companionship, he always went down to the village or into a city. They never came here. As he pulled the blanket up to his chest, he watched her moving about but his resolve to keep track of what she was doing waned. Sleep was calling and he wanted to surrender to it. Still, he fought to keep awake until he felt her slip in beside him.
Her skin was cool and he gathered her against him, the way they’d been on the ship; tangled and relaxed. He drifted off, hardly aware of her anymore. His thoughts had strayed from plans for tomorrow into the languid thoughts of dreams.
His eyes opened slowly, squinting in the light as a slave girl edged open the temple door. The blankets were a mess and had been pushed down sometime during the night. He covered both him and Thalia back up for modesty but he needn’t have bothered. The slave girl’s eyes were everywhere else, as though she didn’t come in here three or more times a day when her captain was on the island. In her arms was food.
Lukos looked down at Thalia and eased himself up, out of her grasp. The slave girl, who had finally glanced over, averted her eyes when he stood. She scurried from the room, stopping to take one final look at him and the naked woman in his bed before leaving. He knew what she would do once she was down in the village. Soon there wouldn’t be a person on the island who did not know his business but it mattered little, he thought as he walked over to his trunk and pulled on a pair of low slung pants. There was no hiding what they’d done.
His stomach growled but instead of getting the food, he grabbed her sword by the hilt, turning it over and looking at it in the light of morning. It was a fine sword. He tested its weight and took a few swings with it before he padded over to the bed. Lifting the blade, he used it to drag the blankets back down, exposing her lovely body to morning’s light.
“Phaedra…” he murmured her name and carefully drew the tip of the sword along her skin, from her belly button to the center of her chest. “Phaedra. Wake up...” his voice was soft, almost lyrical. Seeing her naked had lit a fire in him but more than that, it made him remember her passion from last night. She’d demonstrated real skill with the sword and if there was one person he would allow to teach him, it was her. He wanted to know exactly what she knew. It had been a long time since he’d needed a lesson in anything and he hadn’t realized quite how bored he was until now. Until her.
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"...mmm..... Don't put a collar on me.."
An amused chuckle met her words and his smile only grew when she looked up at him. The thought of trying to get a collar on her now and the repercussions of it made him shake his head slowly, his eyes never leaving hers. As if in emphasis, she ran her thumb down his throat. It was uncomfortable but his smirk did not falter. He set his jaw. She would not own him.
She brushed her lips against his and he relaxed a little, realizing she hadn’t intended a fight. Her whispered command did not raise his hackles like a different order would have. This one was acquiescing to his request. Another truce. His gaze softened and he closed his eyes, focusing on the caresses of her fingers tracing him, the way she tasted different now than before. He was ready to be tired, to at last be peaceful.
His drive to dominate was gone, leaving him much more tame. The pool was comfortable and he didn’t want to get out just yet but he could feel himself getting more drowsy by the second. She was right. It was time to leave. He kept her against him until they reached the other end of the pool. Adjusting his hold on her, he twisted, lifting her out of the water and setting her down on the edge. From there she was on her own.
He pulled himself out of the water, realizing that they’d been so preoccupied with getting each other naked that they hadn’t thought to stop for a sheet. Even now he was a little unsteady but not quite so bad as before. Goosebumps raced along his body as the air pressed against his skin. The cave itself was not as cold as some tended to be but the other side led out to the cliffs; the waves crashing against the rocks were just audible in here, making gentle echoes.
As he’d done outside, he reached down for her, helping her to her feet although this time he did not lead her. Instead he whisked her up into his arms, carrying her from the cave and through the temple passage. He smirked down at the pools of fabric scattered here and there. This had been worth it; not taking her before the fight. She was all he had imagined she might be and a little more; he liked the stinging feeling pulsing against his skin from her nails.
He set her down beside the crate she’d laid her dagger on earlier that day and grabbed a sheet for himself, trusting her to get her own. As soon as he was dry, he set out extinguishing the clay lamps still burning around the temple. The sheet he draped over a crate and crawled into bed, as naked as he’d been before. One lamp still burned, this one left for her to use and put out when she was done.
It felt odd to wait for her in this bed that he’d never shared with anyone. If he wanted companionship, he always went down to the village or into a city. They never came here. As he pulled the blanket up to his chest, he watched her moving about but his resolve to keep track of what she was doing waned. Sleep was calling and he wanted to surrender to it. Still, he fought to keep awake until he felt her slip in beside him.
Her skin was cool and he gathered her against him, the way they’d been on the ship; tangled and relaxed. He drifted off, hardly aware of her anymore. His thoughts had strayed from plans for tomorrow into the languid thoughts of dreams.
His eyes opened slowly, squinting in the light as a slave girl edged open the temple door. The blankets were a mess and had been pushed down sometime during the night. He covered both him and Thalia back up for modesty but he needn’t have bothered. The slave girl’s eyes were everywhere else, as though she didn’t come in here three or more times a day when her captain was on the island. In her arms was food.
Lukos looked down at Thalia and eased himself up, out of her grasp. The slave girl, who had finally glanced over, averted her eyes when he stood. She scurried from the room, stopping to take one final look at him and the naked woman in his bed before leaving. He knew what she would do once she was down in the village. Soon there wouldn’t be a person on the island who did not know his business but it mattered little, he thought as he walked over to his trunk and pulled on a pair of low slung pants. There was no hiding what they’d done.
His stomach growled but instead of getting the food, he grabbed her sword by the hilt, turning it over and looking at it in the light of morning. It was a fine sword. He tested its weight and took a few swings with it before he padded over to the bed. Lifting the blade, he used it to drag the blankets back down, exposing her lovely body to morning’s light.
“Phaedra…” he murmured her name and carefully drew the tip of the sword along her skin, from her belly button to the center of her chest. “Phaedra. Wake up...” his voice was soft, almost lyrical. Seeing her naked had lit a fire in him but more than that, it made him remember her passion from last night. She’d demonstrated real skill with the sword and if there was one person he would allow to teach him, it was her. He wanted to know exactly what she knew. It had been a long time since he’d needed a lesson in anything and he hadn’t realized quite how bored he was until now. Until her.
"...mmm..... Don't put a collar on me.."
An amused chuckle met her words and his smile only grew when she looked up at him. The thought of trying to get a collar on her now and the repercussions of it made him shake his head slowly, his eyes never leaving hers. As if in emphasis, she ran her thumb down his throat. It was uncomfortable but his smirk did not falter. He set his jaw. She would not own him.
She brushed her lips against his and he relaxed a little, realizing she hadn’t intended a fight. Her whispered command did not raise his hackles like a different order would have. This one was acquiescing to his request. Another truce. His gaze softened and he closed his eyes, focusing on the caresses of her fingers tracing him, the way she tasted different now than before. He was ready to be tired, to at last be peaceful.
His drive to dominate was gone, leaving him much more tame. The pool was comfortable and he didn’t want to get out just yet but he could feel himself getting more drowsy by the second. She was right. It was time to leave. He kept her against him until they reached the other end of the pool. Adjusting his hold on her, he twisted, lifting her out of the water and setting her down on the edge. From there she was on her own.
He pulled himself out of the water, realizing that they’d been so preoccupied with getting each other naked that they hadn’t thought to stop for a sheet. Even now he was a little unsteady but not quite so bad as before. Goosebumps raced along his body as the air pressed against his skin. The cave itself was not as cold as some tended to be but the other side led out to the cliffs; the waves crashing against the rocks were just audible in here, making gentle echoes.
As he’d done outside, he reached down for her, helping her to her feet although this time he did not lead her. Instead he whisked her up into his arms, carrying her from the cave and through the temple passage. He smirked down at the pools of fabric scattered here and there. This had been worth it; not taking her before the fight. She was all he had imagined she might be and a little more; he liked the stinging feeling pulsing against his skin from her nails.
He set her down beside the crate she’d laid her dagger on earlier that day and grabbed a sheet for himself, trusting her to get her own. As soon as he was dry, he set out extinguishing the clay lamps still burning around the temple. The sheet he draped over a crate and crawled into bed, as naked as he’d been before. One lamp still burned, this one left for her to use and put out when she was done.
It felt odd to wait for her in this bed that he’d never shared with anyone. If he wanted companionship, he always went down to the village or into a city. They never came here. As he pulled the blanket up to his chest, he watched her moving about but his resolve to keep track of what she was doing waned. Sleep was calling and he wanted to surrender to it. Still, he fought to keep awake until he felt her slip in beside him.
Her skin was cool and he gathered her against him, the way they’d been on the ship; tangled and relaxed. He drifted off, hardly aware of her anymore. His thoughts had strayed from plans for tomorrow into the languid thoughts of dreams.
His eyes opened slowly, squinting in the light as a slave girl edged open the temple door. The blankets were a mess and had been pushed down sometime during the night. He covered both him and Thalia back up for modesty but he needn’t have bothered. The slave girl’s eyes were everywhere else, as though she didn’t come in here three or more times a day when her captain was on the island. In her arms was food.
Lukos looked down at Thalia and eased himself up, out of her grasp. The slave girl, who had finally glanced over, averted her eyes when he stood. She scurried from the room, stopping to take one final look at him and the naked woman in his bed before leaving. He knew what she would do once she was down in the village. Soon there wouldn’t be a person on the island who did not know his business but it mattered little, he thought as he walked over to his trunk and pulled on a pair of low slung pants. There was no hiding what they’d done.
His stomach growled but instead of getting the food, he grabbed her sword by the hilt, turning it over and looking at it in the light of morning. It was a fine sword. He tested its weight and took a few swings with it before he padded over to the bed. Lifting the blade, he used it to drag the blankets back down, exposing her lovely body to morning’s light.
“Phaedra…” he murmured her name and carefully drew the tip of the sword along her skin, from her belly button to the center of her chest. “Phaedra. Wake up...” his voice was soft, almost lyrical. Seeing her naked had lit a fire in him but more than that, it made him remember her passion from last night. She’d demonstrated real skill with the sword and if there was one person he would allow to teach him, it was her. He wanted to know exactly what she knew. It had been a long time since he’d needed a lesson in anything and he hadn’t realized quite how bored he was until now. Until her.
He walked her to the front edge of the pool again and then twisted; limbs untangling and bodies divorcing as he set her down. Taken from the water her body felt heavy; the weight of gravity and their exhaustive exercises making it difficult for her to move efficiently. Her muscles felt unbelievably relaxed; more so than she could remember feeling in a very long time. She felt mildly drowsy, but still very much aware of him. Even now after everything they'd done, when he stepped from the pool himself, she felt wrong to look at him. To study the way the water washed down his frame or the strong muscles in his legs and how they melted into his tapered waist.
He turned to help her up; offering a hand and she considered leaving it, but she placed hers inside his grip. Immediately he pulled her up and into his arms before carrying her out of the cave. She squealed animatedly and wrapped her arms around his shoulders; holding him tight as he padded out.
The cool air of the temple was merciless on their heated skin. It felt good in those first few moments after they'd spent so much time beneath the heated water. But by the time he set her down she was ready to wrap herself in the sheet; taking one up after he did and shaking it out. She didn't expect him to hand her one, even though it would have been a basic courtesy. But Lukos never learned those, had he? She'd be very much surprised if he'd learned the basic skills of courting a woman at all. ....Not that he needed to, or that Thalia required anyone on this island to treat her like a lady. It had become very obvious that it was a hindrance to her and detrimental to her cause for any of them to consider her that way.
She dried off as he set about the room; snuffing out flames as she rubbed oil on her skin. There were new bruises now after the days battle and the bandage for her arm was wet. She removed it and then ripped a strip of fabric from the chiton she'd worn that day. It was all but ruined as it was anyways. Cleaning the wound, she rewrapped it and then padded her way to bed; the sheet still wrapped around her frame.
Snuffing out the last lamp, she let the sheet drop and then climbed into bed herself beside Lukos. It felt odd going to his bed willingly. Like some sort of surrender. They'd been forced to share one for so long that being away from him was starting to feel like the oddity. Even when they fought all the way through the night not to touch, she'd gotten used to the sound of his breathing and the warmth that radiated off of his skin.
As soon as she slipped into the bed, his arms snaked out and pulled her to him. Tense at first, she resisted his familiarity... but slowly she eased against him; tucking her cheek into the curve of his arm and sliding her arm around his waist as they'd done so many times on the ship. Now they had a rather large bed to sprawl out in and they kept the same tight space that they had in the captains quarters.
Legs tangled into each other and now she didn't feel shy about it. The idea of his bare skin against hers still made her skin flush but for an entirely different reason now. Were she not so physically drained from the emotions of their very long day, she may have found it very difficult to fall asleep. But it soon overtook her and she drifted off; just as lost to sleep as he was.
When the slave girl entered, Thalia stirred but didn't fully wake. She was still tangled up against him in the morning hours and so beyond comfortable that she had little regard for what happened around her. She felt the sheet pulled up over her bare back and she gave a soft purr of contentment before he pulled away from her. As she often did on the ship, she sighed as he left her and then sprawled out on the bed; enjoying the space now that he was gone. She drifted off a bit again as he pulled on some clothes and examined her sword; rolling onto her back beneath the sheets.
Seconds later those same covers were pulled back from her frame and he glided the sharp sword up her torso. Immediately she tensed and sucked in a breath as she opened her eyes. But the way he said her false name...soft and enticing let her know he was only toying her; confirmed by the glint in his eyes. She raised a sleepy brow and rolled onto her side; sure he would move the sword as she stared up at him from the pillow. "....Come back to bed... " Her voice was thick with sleep and her eyes drowsy and hungry. Her hair, left to dry of its own merit and without oils, was a mess of riotous curls; unbidden and tamed much like the lady they belonged to. "The morning is still young.. Come distract me from its arrival..."
JD
Staff Team
JD
Staff Team
This post was created by our staff team.
Please contact us with your queries and questions.
He walked her to the front edge of the pool again and then twisted; limbs untangling and bodies divorcing as he set her down. Taken from the water her body felt heavy; the weight of gravity and their exhaustive exercises making it difficult for her to move efficiently. Her muscles felt unbelievably relaxed; more so than she could remember feeling in a very long time. She felt mildly drowsy, but still very much aware of him. Even now after everything they'd done, when he stepped from the pool himself, she felt wrong to look at him. To study the way the water washed down his frame or the strong muscles in his legs and how they melted into his tapered waist.
He turned to help her up; offering a hand and she considered leaving it, but she placed hers inside his grip. Immediately he pulled her up and into his arms before carrying her out of the cave. She squealed animatedly and wrapped her arms around his shoulders; holding him tight as he padded out.
The cool air of the temple was merciless on their heated skin. It felt good in those first few moments after they'd spent so much time beneath the heated water. But by the time he set her down she was ready to wrap herself in the sheet; taking one up after he did and shaking it out. She didn't expect him to hand her one, even though it would have been a basic courtesy. But Lukos never learned those, had he? She'd be very much surprised if he'd learned the basic skills of courting a woman at all. ....Not that he needed to, or that Thalia required anyone on this island to treat her like a lady. It had become very obvious that it was a hindrance to her and detrimental to her cause for any of them to consider her that way.
She dried off as he set about the room; snuffing out flames as she rubbed oil on her skin. There were new bruises now after the days battle and the bandage for her arm was wet. She removed it and then ripped a strip of fabric from the chiton she'd worn that day. It was all but ruined as it was anyways. Cleaning the wound, she rewrapped it and then padded her way to bed; the sheet still wrapped around her frame.
Snuffing out the last lamp, she let the sheet drop and then climbed into bed herself beside Lukos. It felt odd going to his bed willingly. Like some sort of surrender. They'd been forced to share one for so long that being away from him was starting to feel like the oddity. Even when they fought all the way through the night not to touch, she'd gotten used to the sound of his breathing and the warmth that radiated off of his skin.
As soon as she slipped into the bed, his arms snaked out and pulled her to him. Tense at first, she resisted his familiarity... but slowly she eased against him; tucking her cheek into the curve of his arm and sliding her arm around his waist as they'd done so many times on the ship. Now they had a rather large bed to sprawl out in and they kept the same tight space that they had in the captains quarters.
Legs tangled into each other and now she didn't feel shy about it. The idea of his bare skin against hers still made her skin flush but for an entirely different reason now. Were she not so physically drained from the emotions of their very long day, she may have found it very difficult to fall asleep. But it soon overtook her and she drifted off; just as lost to sleep as he was.
When the slave girl entered, Thalia stirred but didn't fully wake. She was still tangled up against him in the morning hours and so beyond comfortable that she had little regard for what happened around her. She felt the sheet pulled up over her bare back and she gave a soft purr of contentment before he pulled away from her. As she often did on the ship, she sighed as he left her and then sprawled out on the bed; enjoying the space now that he was gone. She drifted off a bit again as he pulled on some clothes and examined her sword; rolling onto her back beneath the sheets.
Seconds later those same covers were pulled back from her frame and he glided the sharp sword up her torso. Immediately she tensed and sucked in a breath as she opened her eyes. But the way he said her false name...soft and enticing let her know he was only toying her; confirmed by the glint in his eyes. She raised a sleepy brow and rolled onto her side; sure he would move the sword as she stared up at him from the pillow. "....Come back to bed... " Her voice was thick with sleep and her eyes drowsy and hungry. Her hair, left to dry of its own merit and without oils, was a mess of riotous curls; unbidden and tamed much like the lady they belonged to. "The morning is still young.. Come distract me from its arrival..."
He walked her to the front edge of the pool again and then twisted; limbs untangling and bodies divorcing as he set her down. Taken from the water her body felt heavy; the weight of gravity and their exhaustive exercises making it difficult for her to move efficiently. Her muscles felt unbelievably relaxed; more so than she could remember feeling in a very long time. She felt mildly drowsy, but still very much aware of him. Even now after everything they'd done, when he stepped from the pool himself, she felt wrong to look at him. To study the way the water washed down his frame or the strong muscles in his legs and how they melted into his tapered waist.
He turned to help her up; offering a hand and she considered leaving it, but she placed hers inside his grip. Immediately he pulled her up and into his arms before carrying her out of the cave. She squealed animatedly and wrapped her arms around his shoulders; holding him tight as he padded out.
The cool air of the temple was merciless on their heated skin. It felt good in those first few moments after they'd spent so much time beneath the heated water. But by the time he set her down she was ready to wrap herself in the sheet; taking one up after he did and shaking it out. She didn't expect him to hand her one, even though it would have been a basic courtesy. But Lukos never learned those, had he? She'd be very much surprised if he'd learned the basic skills of courting a woman at all. ....Not that he needed to, or that Thalia required anyone on this island to treat her like a lady. It had become very obvious that it was a hindrance to her and detrimental to her cause for any of them to consider her that way.
She dried off as he set about the room; snuffing out flames as she rubbed oil on her skin. There were new bruises now after the days battle and the bandage for her arm was wet. She removed it and then ripped a strip of fabric from the chiton she'd worn that day. It was all but ruined as it was anyways. Cleaning the wound, she rewrapped it and then padded her way to bed; the sheet still wrapped around her frame.
Snuffing out the last lamp, she let the sheet drop and then climbed into bed herself beside Lukos. It felt odd going to his bed willingly. Like some sort of surrender. They'd been forced to share one for so long that being away from him was starting to feel like the oddity. Even when they fought all the way through the night not to touch, she'd gotten used to the sound of his breathing and the warmth that radiated off of his skin.
As soon as she slipped into the bed, his arms snaked out and pulled her to him. Tense at first, she resisted his familiarity... but slowly she eased against him; tucking her cheek into the curve of his arm and sliding her arm around his waist as they'd done so many times on the ship. Now they had a rather large bed to sprawl out in and they kept the same tight space that they had in the captains quarters.
Legs tangled into each other and now she didn't feel shy about it. The idea of his bare skin against hers still made her skin flush but for an entirely different reason now. Were she not so physically drained from the emotions of their very long day, she may have found it very difficult to fall asleep. But it soon overtook her and she drifted off; just as lost to sleep as he was.
When the slave girl entered, Thalia stirred but didn't fully wake. She was still tangled up against him in the morning hours and so beyond comfortable that she had little regard for what happened around her. She felt the sheet pulled up over her bare back and she gave a soft purr of contentment before he pulled away from her. As she often did on the ship, she sighed as he left her and then sprawled out on the bed; enjoying the space now that he was gone. She drifted off a bit again as he pulled on some clothes and examined her sword; rolling onto her back beneath the sheets.
Seconds later those same covers were pulled back from her frame and he glided the sharp sword up her torso. Immediately she tensed and sucked in a breath as she opened her eyes. But the way he said her false name...soft and enticing let her know he was only toying her; confirmed by the glint in his eyes. She raised a sleepy brow and rolled onto her side; sure he would move the sword as she stared up at him from the pillow. "....Come back to bed... " Her voice was thick with sleep and her eyes drowsy and hungry. Her hair, left to dry of its own merit and without oils, was a mess of riotous curls; unbidden and tamed much like the lady they belonged to. "The morning is still young.. Come distract me from its arrival..."
He smirked as her eyes snapped open and her chest heaved up with the sudden intake of breath; exactly what he’d wanted from her. His smile faded a little as she turned over, forcing him to ease back on the sword unless he wanted to draw blood. The way she looked up at him from under her lashes made him lower the sword to the bed. Placing one knee on the mattress edge, he leaned down just enough to catch the ends of her hair in his fingers. She was so very tempting. So was the sword.
His grip tightened on the hilt of the sword before he at last laid it down on the ground. He rolled her onto her back, kissing her as he did so and running his hands down the length of her body. Feeling her this way was different than in the water; a combination of warm skin and cool air, sheets and having the freedom to explore her body without having to support it. She was laid out beneath him and he moved from her mouth to her neck and chest, pausing at her breasts. Flicking her nipple with his tongue, he smoothed his hand across her stomach, moving to the folds between her legs. She was already soft and heated against his fingertips.
“We had a deal,” he murmured against her skin, moving back up to the curve of her neck, nipping at her. His next command was hoarse, as though his desire for her was interfering with his voice. “You won the fight with Arktos. You're mine and you'll teach me." Like I'm teaching you, he thought. He grinned against her neck, knowing she would balk at being called his but the teasing circles he traced between her legs would hopefully soothe away any objection she had until later. What he was counting on was her hunger to reach another dizzying high of pleasure.
It wasn’t that he was a novice in swordplay. When he was fifteen he’d killed his first man. No training, no thought; all instinct in a do or die battle of ships and bodies surging over and across the decks as the two ships were locked together. No one had stopped to teach him. All that had been done was a sword thrust into his hands and the orders of his captain roaring in his ears. A man approached, and he’d simply acted.
Her breathing brought him back from the memory and he nuzzled against her, licking and sucking the sensitive point just below her jaw. With his other hand he pushed his pants down, kicking them away, finally free of them. With his knee he moved her leg so that he could get to her. Unlike her, he had not intended to do this again this morning. However, he was unequal to the task of telling her no. Not when she looked at him that way and especially not with her panting this way in his ear.
He was a little surprised to find that he wanted her just as much this morning as he had last night. Not that he’d thought about it, but if he’d had to guess, he would have imagined his lust for her would have cooled now that he’d had her. His plans had even gone so far as to wonder what to do with her now; she would not stay here with him. But as their bodies intertwined again, he found the opposite was true. There was nowhere else he wanted her to be except for right here; all she had to do was look at him in that emperious way, the tilt of her head, the challenge in her eyes and he was hers.
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Check out their information page here.
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He smirked as her eyes snapped open and her chest heaved up with the sudden intake of breath; exactly what he’d wanted from her. His smile faded a little as she turned over, forcing him to ease back on the sword unless he wanted to draw blood. The way she looked up at him from under her lashes made him lower the sword to the bed. Placing one knee on the mattress edge, he leaned down just enough to catch the ends of her hair in his fingers. She was so very tempting. So was the sword.
His grip tightened on the hilt of the sword before he at last laid it down on the ground. He rolled her onto her back, kissing her as he did so and running his hands down the length of her body. Feeling her this way was different than in the water; a combination of warm skin and cool air, sheets and having the freedom to explore her body without having to support it. She was laid out beneath him and he moved from her mouth to her neck and chest, pausing at her breasts. Flicking her nipple with his tongue, he smoothed his hand across her stomach, moving to the folds between her legs. She was already soft and heated against his fingertips.
“We had a deal,” he murmured against her skin, moving back up to the curve of her neck, nipping at her. His next command was hoarse, as though his desire for her was interfering with his voice. “You won the fight with Arktos. You're mine and you'll teach me." Like I'm teaching you, he thought. He grinned against her neck, knowing she would balk at being called his but the teasing circles he traced between her legs would hopefully soothe away any objection she had until later. What he was counting on was her hunger to reach another dizzying high of pleasure.
It wasn’t that he was a novice in swordplay. When he was fifteen he’d killed his first man. No training, no thought; all instinct in a do or die battle of ships and bodies surging over and across the decks as the two ships were locked together. No one had stopped to teach him. All that had been done was a sword thrust into his hands and the orders of his captain roaring in his ears. A man approached, and he’d simply acted.
Her breathing brought him back from the memory and he nuzzled against her, licking and sucking the sensitive point just below her jaw. With his other hand he pushed his pants down, kicking them away, finally free of them. With his knee he moved her leg so that he could get to her. Unlike her, he had not intended to do this again this morning. However, he was unequal to the task of telling her no. Not when she looked at him that way and especially not with her panting this way in his ear.
He was a little surprised to find that he wanted her just as much this morning as he had last night. Not that he’d thought about it, but if he’d had to guess, he would have imagined his lust for her would have cooled now that he’d had her. His plans had even gone so far as to wonder what to do with her now; she would not stay here with him. But as their bodies intertwined again, he found the opposite was true. There was nowhere else he wanted her to be except for right here; all she had to do was look at him in that emperious way, the tilt of her head, the challenge in her eyes and he was hers.
He smirked as her eyes snapped open and her chest heaved up with the sudden intake of breath; exactly what he’d wanted from her. His smile faded a little as she turned over, forcing him to ease back on the sword unless he wanted to draw blood. The way she looked up at him from under her lashes made him lower the sword to the bed. Placing one knee on the mattress edge, he leaned down just enough to catch the ends of her hair in his fingers. She was so very tempting. So was the sword.
His grip tightened on the hilt of the sword before he at last laid it down on the ground. He rolled her onto her back, kissing her as he did so and running his hands down the length of her body. Feeling her this way was different than in the water; a combination of warm skin and cool air, sheets and having the freedom to explore her body without having to support it. She was laid out beneath him and he moved from her mouth to her neck and chest, pausing at her breasts. Flicking her nipple with his tongue, he smoothed his hand across her stomach, moving to the folds between her legs. She was already soft and heated against his fingertips.
“We had a deal,” he murmured against her skin, moving back up to the curve of her neck, nipping at her. His next command was hoarse, as though his desire for her was interfering with his voice. “You won the fight with Arktos. You're mine and you'll teach me." Like I'm teaching you, he thought. He grinned against her neck, knowing she would balk at being called his but the teasing circles he traced between her legs would hopefully soothe away any objection she had until later. What he was counting on was her hunger to reach another dizzying high of pleasure.
It wasn’t that he was a novice in swordplay. When he was fifteen he’d killed his first man. No training, no thought; all instinct in a do or die battle of ships and bodies surging over and across the decks as the two ships were locked together. No one had stopped to teach him. All that had been done was a sword thrust into his hands and the orders of his captain roaring in his ears. A man approached, and he’d simply acted.
Her breathing brought him back from the memory and he nuzzled against her, licking and sucking the sensitive point just below her jaw. With his other hand he pushed his pants down, kicking them away, finally free of them. With his knee he moved her leg so that he could get to her. Unlike her, he had not intended to do this again this morning. However, he was unequal to the task of telling her no. Not when she looked at him that way and especially not with her panting this way in his ear.
He was a little surprised to find that he wanted her just as much this morning as he had last night. Not that he’d thought about it, but if he’d had to guess, he would have imagined his lust for her would have cooled now that he’d had her. His plans had even gone so far as to wonder what to do with her now; she would not stay here with him. But as their bodies intertwined again, he found the opposite was true. There was nowhere else he wanted her to be except for right here; all she had to do was look at him in that emperious way, the tilt of her head, the challenge in her eyes and he was hers.
Thalia watched the war that ravaged in his features as he tried to fight her request... though he didn't have to battle long or hard. He bent a knee on the bed and took a lock of her hair before placing the sword down and rolling her to her back; his mouth capturing hers with little more argument. A flood of desire with just the prospect of having him again washed over her and her arms wrapped around his shoulders; grinning against his mouth as she accepted him back into the bed. She liked this power she had over him. And while she'd never been one to wield the allure of her sexuality to attract any man or subjugate them, she rather liked the feeling she had when HE relented.
His hands trailed down her torso; over her hips; inciting a riot of sensitive nerves to come roaring to life. His mouth left hers to trail down her neck and she purred contentedly as he worshiped her in the only way she'd allow him to. Dipping lower, his mouth found one pert nipple and she gasped in pleasure; her hands tangled in his hair as she arched her back. She was beginning to believe there was no better way to wake up. Especially as his fingers smoothed over her stomach and between her legs; urging her arousal.
Her body had a mind of its own. The way she moved against him; her hips rolling against his hand as if he was already inside of her... how her nipples grew tight and sensitive against his tongue and how her back arched to stay close. She couldn't have been passive if she'd wanted to be. His heated words against her were teasing and sent shivers down her spine. She shuddered and twisted her feet into the blanket. With his reminder, she chuckled as his mouth moved back to her neck. "I will never be yours, and my promise was for your men... you were not included in that demand..." She helped him with his pants and allowed him to push his knee between her legs before she arched her hips, and twisted; rolling him over so she could straddle his waist. She turned the tables as she leaned down and brushed her lips over his; down his jaw and along his neck as her hands traced his ribs. One hand pressed his shoulder to the mattress to keep him down, though she wasn't under any illusion that she was strong enough to really do such a thing. "But if you're very good I may keep you around for a time..."
Thalia had always been the type to push boundaries. She enjoyed finding out how far she could go before people bowed up and she'd been doing it with Lukos since they'd met. But she didn't push them just with people. Her whole life she'd been attempting new ways of doing the impossible. It brought her to a point where she knew her limits and she had the confidence in herself to go further than most ladies of her breeding would. From jumping walls or escaping slavers to battling pirates and winning, there were very few times where she wasn't confident in her ability to escape harrowing situations given the right circumstances and a bit of luck. She was aware of Lukos's need to be in control. She didn't share that same need, but she didn't have the same background as he did. Giving commands came naturally to her. Following them, unless they were those associated with her station as a daughter, did not. And even those were difficult at times. But having a man like Lukos attempt to assert himself over her when he had no vested interest in her beside his own selfish gain would have never been acceptable to someone like Thalia. Now control was up for grabs as he relented to her. How much he was willing to give remained to be seen and that was what she tested.
But their relationship could only be tested in this way here as in front of his men or when it came to any kind of real control over his life and property would immediately be struck down. She was aware of this. And this would do. Anything more would mean she'd need to learn more about him and she wasn't inclined to do that. She wouldn't be there forever and it was better not to get attached. But there seemed no point in resisting their bodies needs. Even if she was able to get home, she'd be known as the girl who was kidnapped by pirates. Her reputation would be held to question. She may as well enjoy herself if she would have to live to the same rumors later.
Their time in bed was a game of push and pull. Neither gave too much, and neither took more. They were both equally aggressive and read their tells; easing back when it became too overwhelming or pushing more when it wasn't enough. Their positions changed between her being on top, to him and Thalia had no complaints as Lukos was an intriguing lover, even if she had nothing to compare it to. She doubted highly she would find someone equally or better matched, however. He stroked a fire inside of her that consumed her and made her forget why they could never be together in life and all of their bad blood before that. At least in those heated moments.
When they'd both gotten from each other what they desired that morning, she pushed him off and then rolled over to face him; tracing his arm with fingertips before resting her chin on his back. Her arm curled around his waist from behind and she grazed her thumb against the brand on his shoulder. It was raised and the skin puckered angrily in places. But it was old; becoming a part of his flesh long ago. His back was a patchwork of scars that had long since healed from battles she couldn't comprehend. Thalia was of a different world. She'd never had to consider the ways of the lower classes or even the slaves she kept. She wasn't aware of how they came to the house, where they came from, or how they were managed. Unbeknownst to her, all of her house slaves were branded on their left hip; out of sight to the average eye, and certainly her own. As a daughter to a noble greek home, she wasn't allowed to venture out very much from the house though she did sneak away from time to time. "Do all pirates scar themselves in such a way...?" There was a hint of humor in her voice, but also of curiosity. She'd seen pirates so far with odd tattoos for markings, piercing, and brands. They were a peculiar bunch and she had no idea as to why they would deface their bodies in such a way.
JD
Staff Team
JD
Staff Team
This post was created by our staff team.
Please contact us with your queries and questions.
Thalia watched the war that ravaged in his features as he tried to fight her request... though he didn't have to battle long or hard. He bent a knee on the bed and took a lock of her hair before placing the sword down and rolling her to her back; his mouth capturing hers with little more argument. A flood of desire with just the prospect of having him again washed over her and her arms wrapped around his shoulders; grinning against his mouth as she accepted him back into the bed. She liked this power she had over him. And while she'd never been one to wield the allure of her sexuality to attract any man or subjugate them, she rather liked the feeling she had when HE relented.
His hands trailed down her torso; over her hips; inciting a riot of sensitive nerves to come roaring to life. His mouth left hers to trail down her neck and she purred contentedly as he worshiped her in the only way she'd allow him to. Dipping lower, his mouth found one pert nipple and she gasped in pleasure; her hands tangled in his hair as she arched her back. She was beginning to believe there was no better way to wake up. Especially as his fingers smoothed over her stomach and between her legs; urging her arousal.
Her body had a mind of its own. The way she moved against him; her hips rolling against his hand as if he was already inside of her... how her nipples grew tight and sensitive against his tongue and how her back arched to stay close. She couldn't have been passive if she'd wanted to be. His heated words against her were teasing and sent shivers down her spine. She shuddered and twisted her feet into the blanket. With his reminder, she chuckled as his mouth moved back to her neck. "I will never be yours, and my promise was for your men... you were not included in that demand..." She helped him with his pants and allowed him to push his knee between her legs before she arched her hips, and twisted; rolling him over so she could straddle his waist. She turned the tables as she leaned down and brushed her lips over his; down his jaw and along his neck as her hands traced his ribs. One hand pressed his shoulder to the mattress to keep him down, though she wasn't under any illusion that she was strong enough to really do such a thing. "But if you're very good I may keep you around for a time..."
Thalia had always been the type to push boundaries. She enjoyed finding out how far she could go before people bowed up and she'd been doing it with Lukos since they'd met. But she didn't push them just with people. Her whole life she'd been attempting new ways of doing the impossible. It brought her to a point where she knew her limits and she had the confidence in herself to go further than most ladies of her breeding would. From jumping walls or escaping slavers to battling pirates and winning, there were very few times where she wasn't confident in her ability to escape harrowing situations given the right circumstances and a bit of luck. She was aware of Lukos's need to be in control. She didn't share that same need, but she didn't have the same background as he did. Giving commands came naturally to her. Following them, unless they were those associated with her station as a daughter, did not. And even those were difficult at times. But having a man like Lukos attempt to assert himself over her when he had no vested interest in her beside his own selfish gain would have never been acceptable to someone like Thalia. Now control was up for grabs as he relented to her. How much he was willing to give remained to be seen and that was what she tested.
But their relationship could only be tested in this way here as in front of his men or when it came to any kind of real control over his life and property would immediately be struck down. She was aware of this. And this would do. Anything more would mean she'd need to learn more about him and she wasn't inclined to do that. She wouldn't be there forever and it was better not to get attached. But there seemed no point in resisting their bodies needs. Even if she was able to get home, she'd be known as the girl who was kidnapped by pirates. Her reputation would be held to question. She may as well enjoy herself if she would have to live to the same rumors later.
Their time in bed was a game of push and pull. Neither gave too much, and neither took more. They were both equally aggressive and read their tells; easing back when it became too overwhelming or pushing more when it wasn't enough. Their positions changed between her being on top, to him and Thalia had no complaints as Lukos was an intriguing lover, even if she had nothing to compare it to. She doubted highly she would find someone equally or better matched, however. He stroked a fire inside of her that consumed her and made her forget why they could never be together in life and all of their bad blood before that. At least in those heated moments.
When they'd both gotten from each other what they desired that morning, she pushed him off and then rolled over to face him; tracing his arm with fingertips before resting her chin on his back. Her arm curled around his waist from behind and she grazed her thumb against the brand on his shoulder. It was raised and the skin puckered angrily in places. But it was old; becoming a part of his flesh long ago. His back was a patchwork of scars that had long since healed from battles she couldn't comprehend. Thalia was of a different world. She'd never had to consider the ways of the lower classes or even the slaves she kept. She wasn't aware of how they came to the house, where they came from, or how they were managed. Unbeknownst to her, all of her house slaves were branded on their left hip; out of sight to the average eye, and certainly her own. As a daughter to a noble greek home, she wasn't allowed to venture out very much from the house though she did sneak away from time to time. "Do all pirates scar themselves in such a way...?" There was a hint of humor in her voice, but also of curiosity. She'd seen pirates so far with odd tattoos for markings, piercing, and brands. They were a peculiar bunch and she had no idea as to why they would deface their bodies in such a way.
Thalia watched the war that ravaged in his features as he tried to fight her request... though he didn't have to battle long or hard. He bent a knee on the bed and took a lock of her hair before placing the sword down and rolling her to her back; his mouth capturing hers with little more argument. A flood of desire with just the prospect of having him again washed over her and her arms wrapped around his shoulders; grinning against his mouth as she accepted him back into the bed. She liked this power she had over him. And while she'd never been one to wield the allure of her sexuality to attract any man or subjugate them, she rather liked the feeling she had when HE relented.
His hands trailed down her torso; over her hips; inciting a riot of sensitive nerves to come roaring to life. His mouth left hers to trail down her neck and she purred contentedly as he worshiped her in the only way she'd allow him to. Dipping lower, his mouth found one pert nipple and she gasped in pleasure; her hands tangled in his hair as she arched her back. She was beginning to believe there was no better way to wake up. Especially as his fingers smoothed over her stomach and between her legs; urging her arousal.
Her body had a mind of its own. The way she moved against him; her hips rolling against his hand as if he was already inside of her... how her nipples grew tight and sensitive against his tongue and how her back arched to stay close. She couldn't have been passive if she'd wanted to be. His heated words against her were teasing and sent shivers down her spine. She shuddered and twisted her feet into the blanket. With his reminder, she chuckled as his mouth moved back to her neck. "I will never be yours, and my promise was for your men... you were not included in that demand..." She helped him with his pants and allowed him to push his knee between her legs before she arched her hips, and twisted; rolling him over so she could straddle his waist. She turned the tables as she leaned down and brushed her lips over his; down his jaw and along his neck as her hands traced his ribs. One hand pressed his shoulder to the mattress to keep him down, though she wasn't under any illusion that she was strong enough to really do such a thing. "But if you're very good I may keep you around for a time..."
Thalia had always been the type to push boundaries. She enjoyed finding out how far she could go before people bowed up and she'd been doing it with Lukos since they'd met. But she didn't push them just with people. Her whole life she'd been attempting new ways of doing the impossible. It brought her to a point where she knew her limits and she had the confidence in herself to go further than most ladies of her breeding would. From jumping walls or escaping slavers to battling pirates and winning, there were very few times where she wasn't confident in her ability to escape harrowing situations given the right circumstances and a bit of luck. She was aware of Lukos's need to be in control. She didn't share that same need, but she didn't have the same background as he did. Giving commands came naturally to her. Following them, unless they were those associated with her station as a daughter, did not. And even those were difficult at times. But having a man like Lukos attempt to assert himself over her when he had no vested interest in her beside his own selfish gain would have never been acceptable to someone like Thalia. Now control was up for grabs as he relented to her. How much he was willing to give remained to be seen and that was what she tested.
But their relationship could only be tested in this way here as in front of his men or when it came to any kind of real control over his life and property would immediately be struck down. She was aware of this. And this would do. Anything more would mean she'd need to learn more about him and she wasn't inclined to do that. She wouldn't be there forever and it was better not to get attached. But there seemed no point in resisting their bodies needs. Even if she was able to get home, she'd be known as the girl who was kidnapped by pirates. Her reputation would be held to question. She may as well enjoy herself if she would have to live to the same rumors later.
Their time in bed was a game of push and pull. Neither gave too much, and neither took more. They were both equally aggressive and read their tells; easing back when it became too overwhelming or pushing more when it wasn't enough. Their positions changed between her being on top, to him and Thalia had no complaints as Lukos was an intriguing lover, even if she had nothing to compare it to. She doubted highly she would find someone equally or better matched, however. He stroked a fire inside of her that consumed her and made her forget why they could never be together in life and all of their bad blood before that. At least in those heated moments.
When they'd both gotten from each other what they desired that morning, she pushed him off and then rolled over to face him; tracing his arm with fingertips before resting her chin on his back. Her arm curled around his waist from behind and she grazed her thumb against the brand on his shoulder. It was raised and the skin puckered angrily in places. But it was old; becoming a part of his flesh long ago. His back was a patchwork of scars that had long since healed from battles she couldn't comprehend. Thalia was of a different world. She'd never had to consider the ways of the lower classes or even the slaves she kept. She wasn't aware of how they came to the house, where they came from, or how they were managed. Unbeknownst to her, all of her house slaves were branded on their left hip; out of sight to the average eye, and certainly her own. As a daughter to a noble greek home, she wasn't allowed to venture out very much from the house though she did sneak away from time to time. "Do all pirates scar themselves in such a way...?" There was a hint of humor in her voice, but also of curiosity. She'd seen pirates so far with odd tattoos for markings, piercing, and brands. They were a peculiar bunch and she had no idea as to why they would deface their bodies in such a way.
Like last night, she was not quiet. Her moans echoed off the cavernous walls until they came to a glorious crescendo. He smirked down at her, falling to the side as she pushed him away. Flipping onto his stomach, he hugged the pillow, burying his face into it a moment as he caught his breath, focusing on his heartbeat as it slowed back down. It was fascinating to be with her. She wanted him and was, unaccountably, comfortable in his presence.
He turned his head so that he was looking at her as she rolled onto her side, running her fingertips over his bicep. Whores did not act like she did. They were there for what he wanted and no more. Other women he’d taken who were willing enough never acted like she did. All of them had been more concerned with trying to do what they thought was expected of them, rather than what they wanted. None of them he’d bothered with a second time. Except her.
His thoughts had begun to slide back to the sword and her teasing that she would only train his men when he was distracted again by her leaning forward and resting her chin on his back. It was an intimate move and he was tempted to raise up, to shift away but her fingers trailed along his back and he knew where she was heading. She traced the Drakos house brand on his shoulder and he waited for her to realize how far she’d fallen but she simply asked if he’d done it to himself.
Equal parts irritation and incredulity fought their way to the surface but he battled them back down. He did, however shift away from her this time, flipping over onto his back and putting his hands behind his head as he considered her. “How old are you?” he asked after a moment, then thought back to when he’d forced that answer out of her in exchange for food. After only two weeks, she was already completely different. Almost.
Before she could tell him again, he interrupted himself with, “How do you not know a slave brand when you see one?” His voice wasn’t angry but it was edging that way. Sitting up, he took her by the shoulder and pushed her back down until she was flat on her back, straddling her again. His dark eyes searched her face. In it he saw the hardened expression that she’d acquired since being around him, but her eyes were not like his. Her body was not one that had ever known hardship apart from a few days ago. Reaching down, he took one of her hands, rubbing his thumb over the soft flesh. She smelled and tasted and acted like the noble she was. How could she not know what her wealth was based on?
After waiting for her response, he got off her and took up his pants, slipping back into them. He was done lazing about in bed. He bent down and picked up her sword again, giving it a hard swish as he watched her. “I was born a slave to the Drakos house in Colchis. I worked their mines with my father while my mother ran their house.” There was no malice in his voice. It was matter of fact, like he was talking about someone else. “You’ll find a few men on this island with the same story.”
Backing up to the table, he picked up a flat round of bread and tore into it. He wondered if she was seriously regretting last night and this morning. Slaves did not bed nobles. A pirate might. But never a slave. But then again, he was no longer under anyone’s control. He had the scar but it held no power over him now. Just like her noble blood held no sway here. They were even on this island where their born status and the blood in their veins did not matter.
“Come. Eat. And then we train.” It was a command cloaked inside a light tone but his eyes were hard, daring her to say no this time. He was in no mood to fight, but he would not be distracted again. Sex was a temptation but power was nearly equal to it and she’d showed him a weakness he’d never thought to fix. When battling other untrained men, it was a matter of who could get through the other’s guard first. They hacked at each other and it was bloody. What she’d done was a dance of deflection and wore out her opponent. What might she have done if she’d been actually trying to kill Arktos, he wondered? He wanted to find out.
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Like last night, she was not quiet. Her moans echoed off the cavernous walls until they came to a glorious crescendo. He smirked down at her, falling to the side as she pushed him away. Flipping onto his stomach, he hugged the pillow, burying his face into it a moment as he caught his breath, focusing on his heartbeat as it slowed back down. It was fascinating to be with her. She wanted him and was, unaccountably, comfortable in his presence.
He turned his head so that he was looking at her as she rolled onto her side, running her fingertips over his bicep. Whores did not act like she did. They were there for what he wanted and no more. Other women he’d taken who were willing enough never acted like she did. All of them had been more concerned with trying to do what they thought was expected of them, rather than what they wanted. None of them he’d bothered with a second time. Except her.
His thoughts had begun to slide back to the sword and her teasing that she would only train his men when he was distracted again by her leaning forward and resting her chin on his back. It was an intimate move and he was tempted to raise up, to shift away but her fingers trailed along his back and he knew where she was heading. She traced the Drakos house brand on his shoulder and he waited for her to realize how far she’d fallen but she simply asked if he’d done it to himself.
Equal parts irritation and incredulity fought their way to the surface but he battled them back down. He did, however shift away from her this time, flipping over onto his back and putting his hands behind his head as he considered her. “How old are you?” he asked after a moment, then thought back to when he’d forced that answer out of her in exchange for food. After only two weeks, she was already completely different. Almost.
Before she could tell him again, he interrupted himself with, “How do you not know a slave brand when you see one?” His voice wasn’t angry but it was edging that way. Sitting up, he took her by the shoulder and pushed her back down until she was flat on her back, straddling her again. His dark eyes searched her face. In it he saw the hardened expression that she’d acquired since being around him, but her eyes were not like his. Her body was not one that had ever known hardship apart from a few days ago. Reaching down, he took one of her hands, rubbing his thumb over the soft flesh. She smelled and tasted and acted like the noble she was. How could she not know what her wealth was based on?
After waiting for her response, he got off her and took up his pants, slipping back into them. He was done lazing about in bed. He bent down and picked up her sword again, giving it a hard swish as he watched her. “I was born a slave to the Drakos house in Colchis. I worked their mines with my father while my mother ran their house.” There was no malice in his voice. It was matter of fact, like he was talking about someone else. “You’ll find a few men on this island with the same story.”
Backing up to the table, he picked up a flat round of bread and tore into it. He wondered if she was seriously regretting last night and this morning. Slaves did not bed nobles. A pirate might. But never a slave. But then again, he was no longer under anyone’s control. He had the scar but it held no power over him now. Just like her noble blood held no sway here. They were even on this island where their born status and the blood in their veins did not matter.
“Come. Eat. And then we train.” It was a command cloaked inside a light tone but his eyes were hard, daring her to say no this time. He was in no mood to fight, but he would not be distracted again. Sex was a temptation but power was nearly equal to it and she’d showed him a weakness he’d never thought to fix. When battling other untrained men, it was a matter of who could get through the other’s guard first. They hacked at each other and it was bloody. What she’d done was a dance of deflection and wore out her opponent. What might she have done if she’d been actually trying to kill Arktos, he wondered? He wanted to find out.
Like last night, she was not quiet. Her moans echoed off the cavernous walls until they came to a glorious crescendo. He smirked down at her, falling to the side as she pushed him away. Flipping onto his stomach, he hugged the pillow, burying his face into it a moment as he caught his breath, focusing on his heartbeat as it slowed back down. It was fascinating to be with her. She wanted him and was, unaccountably, comfortable in his presence.
He turned his head so that he was looking at her as she rolled onto her side, running her fingertips over his bicep. Whores did not act like she did. They were there for what he wanted and no more. Other women he’d taken who were willing enough never acted like she did. All of them had been more concerned with trying to do what they thought was expected of them, rather than what they wanted. None of them he’d bothered with a second time. Except her.
His thoughts had begun to slide back to the sword and her teasing that she would only train his men when he was distracted again by her leaning forward and resting her chin on his back. It was an intimate move and he was tempted to raise up, to shift away but her fingers trailed along his back and he knew where she was heading. She traced the Drakos house brand on his shoulder and he waited for her to realize how far she’d fallen but she simply asked if he’d done it to himself.
Equal parts irritation and incredulity fought their way to the surface but he battled them back down. He did, however shift away from her this time, flipping over onto his back and putting his hands behind his head as he considered her. “How old are you?” he asked after a moment, then thought back to when he’d forced that answer out of her in exchange for food. After only two weeks, she was already completely different. Almost.
Before she could tell him again, he interrupted himself with, “How do you not know a slave brand when you see one?” His voice wasn’t angry but it was edging that way. Sitting up, he took her by the shoulder and pushed her back down until she was flat on her back, straddling her again. His dark eyes searched her face. In it he saw the hardened expression that she’d acquired since being around him, but her eyes were not like his. Her body was not one that had ever known hardship apart from a few days ago. Reaching down, he took one of her hands, rubbing his thumb over the soft flesh. She smelled and tasted and acted like the noble she was. How could she not know what her wealth was based on?
After waiting for her response, he got off her and took up his pants, slipping back into them. He was done lazing about in bed. He bent down and picked up her sword again, giving it a hard swish as he watched her. “I was born a slave to the Drakos house in Colchis. I worked their mines with my father while my mother ran their house.” There was no malice in his voice. It was matter of fact, like he was talking about someone else. “You’ll find a few men on this island with the same story.”
Backing up to the table, he picked up a flat round of bread and tore into it. He wondered if she was seriously regretting last night and this morning. Slaves did not bed nobles. A pirate might. But never a slave. But then again, he was no longer under anyone’s control. He had the scar but it held no power over him now. Just like her noble blood held no sway here. They were even on this island where their born status and the blood in their veins did not matter.
“Come. Eat. And then we train.” It was a command cloaked inside a light tone but his eyes were hard, daring her to say no this time. He was in no mood to fight, but he would not be distracted again. Sex was a temptation but power was nearly equal to it and she’d showed him a weakness he’d never thought to fix. When battling other untrained men, it was a matter of who could get through the other’s guard first. They hacked at each other and it was bloody. What she’d done was a dance of deflection and wore out her opponent. What might she have done if she’d been actually trying to kill Arktos, he wondered? He wanted to find out.
His good humor seemed to sour quickly as she traced the brand; her teasing tone falling flat as he tensed. After a moment, he shifted from beneath her and propped his head on his arm so he could look at her; a mix of cynicism and incredulity on his face as he asked how old she was. Immediately she bristled; not understanding what he meant. He knew how old she was and she furrowed a brow; opening her mouth to tell him before he interrupted her; asking how she'd never seen a slave brand and shifting again to push her on her back so he could straddle her waist.
The position was rather intimidating in its own merit, and she wasn't sure of the shift. The last time he'd sat on her like this he'd forced a collar onto her throat, so one could see why she immediately tensed. She stared up at him; recalcitrant that he would question her so; as if she were some sort of idiot. Her cheeks flushed in irritation as she thought of the right answer. "I..." If she told him her slaves didn't have them it would be admitting she was wealthy enough for her parents to own them and she still didn't trust him in any level way with such information. Even so much as to refrain from telling him her name. "I didn't know.." He had her hand; his thumb rubbing across the palm and she looked down at it curiously. His own hand was rough; calloused and strong. She knew this already though and she liked it. They felt hard on her softer skin; demanding a response that someone with fewer callouses wouldn't be able to do. But she knew the implication. She was soft; unused to laboring as he was.
He wasn't wrong.
Releasing her hand, he climbed off of her and out of the bed; leaving her to turn and watch him dress. She propped her chin on her hand; regretting the comment altogether. He told her his story matter of factly; revealing who his parents were and where he came from. That he himself was a slave, and many others on the island were as well. She found it ironic that he now bartered in flesh when he came from the very existence he seemed annoyed with now. If it was preferable enough to sell a slave, why then was it not preferable enough to be one? She didn't dislike the brand, and honestly, neither sleeping with a pirate or a slave were worse in her eyes. While most male slaves were castrated, there were some that were known to carry on affairs with the lady of the house. And vice versa, for that matter. Lukos himself had every intention of selling her as a slave for someone else to bed. Fucking a slave shouldn't have been any more demeaning than fucking a pirate. And in her mind, it wasn't.
She said nothing on the matter....not wanting to fight any more than he did.
His order for her to get out of bed and eat irritated her further. She didn't take orders from him any more than he would take them from her. But she watched him twist about her sword and she frowned. Shifting out of the bed, she padded over to him and stepped into his space; taking hold of his wrist as she grazed her hand down his torso and looked up at him. She should have apologized for asking him about the mark. It probably would have behooved her to be more sensitive to his background. He'd only treated her as a slave and she hated him for it. She couldn't imagine actually being one. But she couldn't admit weakness either.. even in her judgments of him.
She spoke closely to him..still enjoying the feeling of the heat of his skin and that male scent that was all his own. "I will train you. But only because I miss the practice." Her lips quirked up on the corner and she took hold of the hilt of the sword; twisting it from his loose grasp before she lifted herself up on her toes and pecked a kiss on his jawline. "Get your own sword though."
With that, she turned with her sword and walked away to get dressed from the pile of fine chitons still left in the crates. She would do her level best to keep this one clean, however as with the rate she was going through them, she would be without clothes by next week. She dressed quickly enough and combed out her hair before braiding it tightly to her head to get it off of her shoulders. Then she returned to him and took up his offer to eat; needing the sustenance before she would let him know how very little he knew about swordplay.
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His good humor seemed to sour quickly as she traced the brand; her teasing tone falling flat as he tensed. After a moment, he shifted from beneath her and propped his head on his arm so he could look at her; a mix of cynicism and incredulity on his face as he asked how old she was. Immediately she bristled; not understanding what he meant. He knew how old she was and she furrowed a brow; opening her mouth to tell him before he interrupted her; asking how she'd never seen a slave brand and shifting again to push her on her back so he could straddle her waist.
The position was rather intimidating in its own merit, and she wasn't sure of the shift. The last time he'd sat on her like this he'd forced a collar onto her throat, so one could see why she immediately tensed. She stared up at him; recalcitrant that he would question her so; as if she were some sort of idiot. Her cheeks flushed in irritation as she thought of the right answer. "I..." If she told him her slaves didn't have them it would be admitting she was wealthy enough for her parents to own them and she still didn't trust him in any level way with such information. Even so much as to refrain from telling him her name. "I didn't know.." He had her hand; his thumb rubbing across the palm and she looked down at it curiously. His own hand was rough; calloused and strong. She knew this already though and she liked it. They felt hard on her softer skin; demanding a response that someone with fewer callouses wouldn't be able to do. But she knew the implication. She was soft; unused to laboring as he was.
He wasn't wrong.
Releasing her hand, he climbed off of her and out of the bed; leaving her to turn and watch him dress. She propped her chin on her hand; regretting the comment altogether. He told her his story matter of factly; revealing who his parents were and where he came from. That he himself was a slave, and many others on the island were as well. She found it ironic that he now bartered in flesh when he came from the very existence he seemed annoyed with now. If it was preferable enough to sell a slave, why then was it not preferable enough to be one? She didn't dislike the brand, and honestly, neither sleeping with a pirate or a slave were worse in her eyes. While most male slaves were castrated, there were some that were known to carry on affairs with the lady of the house. And vice versa, for that matter. Lukos himself had every intention of selling her as a slave for someone else to bed. Fucking a slave shouldn't have been any more demeaning than fucking a pirate. And in her mind, it wasn't.
She said nothing on the matter....not wanting to fight any more than he did.
His order for her to get out of bed and eat irritated her further. She didn't take orders from him any more than he would take them from her. But she watched him twist about her sword and she frowned. Shifting out of the bed, she padded over to him and stepped into his space; taking hold of his wrist as she grazed her hand down his torso and looked up at him. She should have apologized for asking him about the mark. It probably would have behooved her to be more sensitive to his background. He'd only treated her as a slave and she hated him for it. She couldn't imagine actually being one. But she couldn't admit weakness either.. even in her judgments of him.
She spoke closely to him..still enjoying the feeling of the heat of his skin and that male scent that was all his own. "I will train you. But only because I miss the practice." Her lips quirked up on the corner and she took hold of the hilt of the sword; twisting it from his loose grasp before she lifted herself up on her toes and pecked a kiss on his jawline. "Get your own sword though."
With that, she turned with her sword and walked away to get dressed from the pile of fine chitons still left in the crates. She would do her level best to keep this one clean, however as with the rate she was going through them, she would be without clothes by next week. She dressed quickly enough and combed out her hair before braiding it tightly to her head to get it off of her shoulders. Then she returned to him and took up his offer to eat; needing the sustenance before she would let him know how very little he knew about swordplay.
His good humor seemed to sour quickly as she traced the brand; her teasing tone falling flat as he tensed. After a moment, he shifted from beneath her and propped his head on his arm so he could look at her; a mix of cynicism and incredulity on his face as he asked how old she was. Immediately she bristled; not understanding what he meant. He knew how old she was and she furrowed a brow; opening her mouth to tell him before he interrupted her; asking how she'd never seen a slave brand and shifting again to push her on her back so he could straddle her waist.
The position was rather intimidating in its own merit, and she wasn't sure of the shift. The last time he'd sat on her like this he'd forced a collar onto her throat, so one could see why she immediately tensed. She stared up at him; recalcitrant that he would question her so; as if she were some sort of idiot. Her cheeks flushed in irritation as she thought of the right answer. "I..." If she told him her slaves didn't have them it would be admitting she was wealthy enough for her parents to own them and she still didn't trust him in any level way with such information. Even so much as to refrain from telling him her name. "I didn't know.." He had her hand; his thumb rubbing across the palm and she looked down at it curiously. His own hand was rough; calloused and strong. She knew this already though and she liked it. They felt hard on her softer skin; demanding a response that someone with fewer callouses wouldn't be able to do. But she knew the implication. She was soft; unused to laboring as he was.
He wasn't wrong.
Releasing her hand, he climbed off of her and out of the bed; leaving her to turn and watch him dress. She propped her chin on her hand; regretting the comment altogether. He told her his story matter of factly; revealing who his parents were and where he came from. That he himself was a slave, and many others on the island were as well. She found it ironic that he now bartered in flesh when he came from the very existence he seemed annoyed with now. If it was preferable enough to sell a slave, why then was it not preferable enough to be one? She didn't dislike the brand, and honestly, neither sleeping with a pirate or a slave were worse in her eyes. While most male slaves were castrated, there were some that were known to carry on affairs with the lady of the house. And vice versa, for that matter. Lukos himself had every intention of selling her as a slave for someone else to bed. Fucking a slave shouldn't have been any more demeaning than fucking a pirate. And in her mind, it wasn't.
She said nothing on the matter....not wanting to fight any more than he did.
His order for her to get out of bed and eat irritated her further. She didn't take orders from him any more than he would take them from her. But she watched him twist about her sword and she frowned. Shifting out of the bed, she padded over to him and stepped into his space; taking hold of his wrist as she grazed her hand down his torso and looked up at him. She should have apologized for asking him about the mark. It probably would have behooved her to be more sensitive to his background. He'd only treated her as a slave and she hated him for it. She couldn't imagine actually being one. But she couldn't admit weakness either.. even in her judgments of him.
She spoke closely to him..still enjoying the feeling of the heat of his skin and that male scent that was all his own. "I will train you. But only because I miss the practice." Her lips quirked up on the corner and she took hold of the hilt of the sword; twisting it from his loose grasp before she lifted herself up on her toes and pecked a kiss on his jawline. "Get your own sword though."
With that, she turned with her sword and walked away to get dressed from the pile of fine chitons still left in the crates. She would do her level best to keep this one clean, however as with the rate she was going through them, she would be without clothes by next week. She dressed quickly enough and combed out her hair before braiding it tightly to her head to get it off of her shoulders. Then she returned to him and took up his offer to eat; needing the sustenance before she would let him know how very little he knew about swordplay.
She rose, seemingly obediently and he watched her place her bare feet on the marble floor. All her inhibitions, to him at least, were gone; she stopped neither for sheet or chiton as she moved toward him. He stopped swishing the sword. His eyes never left hers. There was an expression there that he didn’t know exactly how to interpret but when she used it, it always promised teasing, or at least that she would do something intriguing.
He swallowed as she pressed close, her hand smoothing over him as though he was an agitated horse that needed soothed. A stray impulse urged him wanted to wrap her up in his arms and brush kisses over her mouth as she looked up at him but he resisted. Her hand moved to his wrist as she spoke, the corners of her mouth quirking up and he relaxed under her touch. Perhaps he was some sort of wild thing that needed to be tamed every so often.
All at once she twisted the sword out of his grasp. He barely had time to react, let alone reach for it back before she bodily blocked him by kissing him. It was enough of a distraction that he let her do it, a little confused as to exactly how she’d done this to him a second time. Shaking his head, he pressed his lips together in a self deprecating smile.
"Get your own sword though." she said as she sauntered away. He chewed his lower lip, his eyes on her backside. It was obvious to him now that he was letting her into his head. That needed to stop. Her eyes had a beguiling effect on him that he liked but that meant she had a little bit of control; that he did not. The next time she tried to do it to him, he was resolved not to fall prey to her. Arktos had once told him that women fought dirty. They used head games and he wondered if this was part of hers.
Turning away from her, he turned his attention to food as a begrudging excitement built up within him. He liked to learn and he was a good student when the mood took him. From Bianor he’d learn to read and write; to do numbers. The scribe had probably taught him with such enthusiasm because he’d assumed he would be allowed to leave afterward when he was no longer needed. The problem was that a scribe was a very useful person to have.
As Thalia came back to the table, he glanced at her every so often from the corner of his eye, wondering if hers and Bianor’s situations would end up being the same. If she could prove useful, he would keep her. Plans swirled in his mind, growing bigger by the second. Soon he’d stopped looking at her at all. He hardly tasted the food going into his mouth. In his mind’s eye there was an armada of ships under his command. It would not be hard to rear an army. It was simply a matter of where to house them and feed them. This island was too small but this was a chain, was it not? A chain of islands that others feared?
He and his men knew these waters well enough. Perhaps he could populate them all, or most at least, and plunder the Ageane with an organized fighting force. They would not be as good as a phalanx but then, ship battles didn’t need to be. They needed to fight one on one. At last his eyes slid back to her. This was where she would prove most valuable; she might be the key to his new idea of dominion over the ocean.
Mid-bite he put down his bread and left the table. He took the water with him, drinking distractedly as he disappeared into the stacks of crates. Rattling and clunks of heavy things being shifted emanated across the room but after a moment he was back, buckling on a sword belt and withdrawing his weapon. His dark eyes were bright and he strode over to her, snaking an arm around her waist, wheeling her around and planting a kiss on her mouth.
“I’m ready,” he said, releasing her and stepping back. He had not bothered with a shirt or shoes. The two of them were in the temple, not outside; the other clothing was unnecessary. Holding out his sword, he bent at the knees and hunkered down a little, making his body a harder target. “Come at me.”
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She rose, seemingly obediently and he watched her place her bare feet on the marble floor. All her inhibitions, to him at least, were gone; she stopped neither for sheet or chiton as she moved toward him. He stopped swishing the sword. His eyes never left hers. There was an expression there that he didn’t know exactly how to interpret but when she used it, it always promised teasing, or at least that she would do something intriguing.
He swallowed as she pressed close, her hand smoothing over him as though he was an agitated horse that needed soothed. A stray impulse urged him wanted to wrap her up in his arms and brush kisses over her mouth as she looked up at him but he resisted. Her hand moved to his wrist as she spoke, the corners of her mouth quirking up and he relaxed under her touch. Perhaps he was some sort of wild thing that needed to be tamed every so often.
All at once she twisted the sword out of his grasp. He barely had time to react, let alone reach for it back before she bodily blocked him by kissing him. It was enough of a distraction that he let her do it, a little confused as to exactly how she’d done this to him a second time. Shaking his head, he pressed his lips together in a self deprecating smile.
"Get your own sword though." she said as she sauntered away. He chewed his lower lip, his eyes on her backside. It was obvious to him now that he was letting her into his head. That needed to stop. Her eyes had a beguiling effect on him that he liked but that meant she had a little bit of control; that he did not. The next time she tried to do it to him, he was resolved not to fall prey to her. Arktos had once told him that women fought dirty. They used head games and he wondered if this was part of hers.
Turning away from her, he turned his attention to food as a begrudging excitement built up within him. He liked to learn and he was a good student when the mood took him. From Bianor he’d learn to read and write; to do numbers. The scribe had probably taught him with such enthusiasm because he’d assumed he would be allowed to leave afterward when he was no longer needed. The problem was that a scribe was a very useful person to have.
As Thalia came back to the table, he glanced at her every so often from the corner of his eye, wondering if hers and Bianor’s situations would end up being the same. If she could prove useful, he would keep her. Plans swirled in his mind, growing bigger by the second. Soon he’d stopped looking at her at all. He hardly tasted the food going into his mouth. In his mind’s eye there was an armada of ships under his command. It would not be hard to rear an army. It was simply a matter of where to house them and feed them. This island was too small but this was a chain, was it not? A chain of islands that others feared?
He and his men knew these waters well enough. Perhaps he could populate them all, or most at least, and plunder the Ageane with an organized fighting force. They would not be as good as a phalanx but then, ship battles didn’t need to be. They needed to fight one on one. At last his eyes slid back to her. This was where she would prove most valuable; she might be the key to his new idea of dominion over the ocean.
Mid-bite he put down his bread and left the table. He took the water with him, drinking distractedly as he disappeared into the stacks of crates. Rattling and clunks of heavy things being shifted emanated across the room but after a moment he was back, buckling on a sword belt and withdrawing his weapon. His dark eyes were bright and he strode over to her, snaking an arm around her waist, wheeling her around and planting a kiss on her mouth.
“I’m ready,” he said, releasing her and stepping back. He had not bothered with a shirt or shoes. The two of them were in the temple, not outside; the other clothing was unnecessary. Holding out his sword, he bent at the knees and hunkered down a little, making his body a harder target. “Come at me.”
She rose, seemingly obediently and he watched her place her bare feet on the marble floor. All her inhibitions, to him at least, were gone; she stopped neither for sheet or chiton as she moved toward him. He stopped swishing the sword. His eyes never left hers. There was an expression there that he didn’t know exactly how to interpret but when she used it, it always promised teasing, or at least that she would do something intriguing.
He swallowed as she pressed close, her hand smoothing over him as though he was an agitated horse that needed soothed. A stray impulse urged him wanted to wrap her up in his arms and brush kisses over her mouth as she looked up at him but he resisted. Her hand moved to his wrist as she spoke, the corners of her mouth quirking up and he relaxed under her touch. Perhaps he was some sort of wild thing that needed to be tamed every so often.
All at once she twisted the sword out of his grasp. He barely had time to react, let alone reach for it back before she bodily blocked him by kissing him. It was enough of a distraction that he let her do it, a little confused as to exactly how she’d done this to him a second time. Shaking his head, he pressed his lips together in a self deprecating smile.
"Get your own sword though." she said as she sauntered away. He chewed his lower lip, his eyes on her backside. It was obvious to him now that he was letting her into his head. That needed to stop. Her eyes had a beguiling effect on him that he liked but that meant she had a little bit of control; that he did not. The next time she tried to do it to him, he was resolved not to fall prey to her. Arktos had once told him that women fought dirty. They used head games and he wondered if this was part of hers.
Turning away from her, he turned his attention to food as a begrudging excitement built up within him. He liked to learn and he was a good student when the mood took him. From Bianor he’d learn to read and write; to do numbers. The scribe had probably taught him with such enthusiasm because he’d assumed he would be allowed to leave afterward when he was no longer needed. The problem was that a scribe was a very useful person to have.
As Thalia came back to the table, he glanced at her every so often from the corner of his eye, wondering if hers and Bianor’s situations would end up being the same. If she could prove useful, he would keep her. Plans swirled in his mind, growing bigger by the second. Soon he’d stopped looking at her at all. He hardly tasted the food going into his mouth. In his mind’s eye there was an armada of ships under his command. It would not be hard to rear an army. It was simply a matter of where to house them and feed them. This island was too small but this was a chain, was it not? A chain of islands that others feared?
He and his men knew these waters well enough. Perhaps he could populate them all, or most at least, and plunder the Ageane with an organized fighting force. They would not be as good as a phalanx but then, ship battles didn’t need to be. They needed to fight one on one. At last his eyes slid back to her. This was where she would prove most valuable; she might be the key to his new idea of dominion over the ocean.
Mid-bite he put down his bread and left the table. He took the water with him, drinking distractedly as he disappeared into the stacks of crates. Rattling and clunks of heavy things being shifted emanated across the room but after a moment he was back, buckling on a sword belt and withdrawing his weapon. His dark eyes were bright and he strode over to her, snaking an arm around her waist, wheeling her around and planting a kiss on her mouth.
“I’m ready,” he said, releasing her and stepping back. He had not bothered with a shirt or shoes. The two of them were in the temple, not outside; the other clothing was unnecessary. Holding out his sword, he bent at the knees and hunkered down a little, making his body a harder target. “Come at me.”
How Thalia deflected and distracted Lukos was different than she'd done with any man before. She wasn't the flirtatious sort; more tomboy than seductress. Her distractions usually came from how she was trained by her brothers as a man would. Draw the eye away from one thing while you did something else. Create a diversion. It was the typical bait and switch technique. And while on some instinctual level she may still use it on Lukos, she found herself wanting to distract him in more feminine ways. She liked the hungry look he got when she moved towards him or how his body tensed when she touched him; as if holding himself back lest they end up in bed again. She liked how his eyes moved over her; taking in every curve. And she liked being a weakness to him....even if she had no intentions of exploiting it.
Yet.
After she'd dressed, she returned to the table and made a plate of fruit and eggs while Lukos stared at her from the corner of his eye. She felt his gaze even if he was being rather pensive and it made her skin prickle in a not altogether uncomfortable way. Though she did wonder what he was contemplating. Finally, he wandered away and she scarfed down her food in a most unladylike fashion; starving after last night in the pool and their time together this morning. The eggs were quickly demolished, and then she tore off grapes from the vine; chewing only a couple times before swallowing them almost whole. She tore through an orange and ate a bunch of bread. Her cheeks were bulging when he returned with a sword on his hip and drew her to him; planting a kiss on her lips against her wide-eyed stare.
she finished chewing and swallowed before breaking off another piece of bread in a far more ladylike manner. "Do you have a back holster somewhere? I'm not sure what happened to mine...." She took the skein from him and washed down the bread; finally feeling fuller as he set himself into position. Chuckling, she shook her head. "We aren't training in the middle of all of this.....stuff. Take me outside. The field, perhaps?"
She followed wherever he led her and she set about stretching her arms and rolling her neck. She felt deliciously sore in all the right places between her challenge with Arktos yesterday and their own challenges last night. But it was a welcome feeling. She'd missed her body being exhausted from activity. It'd been weeks.
Squaring off against him, she looked him over. The set of his legs and how he readied himself for her. She lowered her sword and shook her head. "Your center of gravity is all wrong. You're set for power drives. It'll wear you out faster." She went over to him and reset his form so there wasn't so much strain on his hips and thighs; straightening his back so he could move more quickly. She then moved to face him; readying her own sword. Waiting for him to strike, she easily blocked his sword. "Stop.." She shook out her hand as her own sword vibrated from the force. "If you keep that up you'll be worn out in ten minutes."
Their training went on like that for the majority of the morning. Her telling him to advance and then stopping him midway into his strike to correct what he was doing. She remembered her brother doing the same thing to her...he still did from time to time and how incredibly frustrating it was. She just wanted to parry; to challenge and win and everything had always been instruction with him. It was his way as a commander. And now it was serving her. Lukos wasn't a bad fighter, but he wasn't trained in any way. From the way he stood to how he held his sword or how he blocked. No one had ever taught him the right way to use a sword. Without it, he could best her. She was no match blow by blow or to his size and strength. But against a sword? He could never get to her. Not one on one at least.
When she finally paused, he seemed rather tired, and she could use a rest as well. "Let take a break... You won't learn it all in one day..."
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How Thalia deflected and distracted Lukos was different than she'd done with any man before. She wasn't the flirtatious sort; more tomboy than seductress. Her distractions usually came from how she was trained by her brothers as a man would. Draw the eye away from one thing while you did something else. Create a diversion. It was the typical bait and switch technique. And while on some instinctual level she may still use it on Lukos, she found herself wanting to distract him in more feminine ways. She liked the hungry look he got when she moved towards him or how his body tensed when she touched him; as if holding himself back lest they end up in bed again. She liked how his eyes moved over her; taking in every curve. And she liked being a weakness to him....even if she had no intentions of exploiting it.
Yet.
After she'd dressed, she returned to the table and made a plate of fruit and eggs while Lukos stared at her from the corner of his eye. She felt his gaze even if he was being rather pensive and it made her skin prickle in a not altogether uncomfortable way. Though she did wonder what he was contemplating. Finally, he wandered away and she scarfed down her food in a most unladylike fashion; starving after last night in the pool and their time together this morning. The eggs were quickly demolished, and then she tore off grapes from the vine; chewing only a couple times before swallowing them almost whole. She tore through an orange and ate a bunch of bread. Her cheeks were bulging when he returned with a sword on his hip and drew her to him; planting a kiss on her lips against her wide-eyed stare.
she finished chewing and swallowed before breaking off another piece of bread in a far more ladylike manner. "Do you have a back holster somewhere? I'm not sure what happened to mine...." She took the skein from him and washed down the bread; finally feeling fuller as he set himself into position. Chuckling, she shook her head. "We aren't training in the middle of all of this.....stuff. Take me outside. The field, perhaps?"
She followed wherever he led her and she set about stretching her arms and rolling her neck. She felt deliciously sore in all the right places between her challenge with Arktos yesterday and their own challenges last night. But it was a welcome feeling. She'd missed her body being exhausted from activity. It'd been weeks.
Squaring off against him, she looked him over. The set of his legs and how he readied himself for her. She lowered her sword and shook her head. "Your center of gravity is all wrong. You're set for power drives. It'll wear you out faster." She went over to him and reset his form so there wasn't so much strain on his hips and thighs; straightening his back so he could move more quickly. She then moved to face him; readying her own sword. Waiting for him to strike, she easily blocked his sword. "Stop.." She shook out her hand as her own sword vibrated from the force. "If you keep that up you'll be worn out in ten minutes."
Their training went on like that for the majority of the morning. Her telling him to advance and then stopping him midway into his strike to correct what he was doing. She remembered her brother doing the same thing to her...he still did from time to time and how incredibly frustrating it was. She just wanted to parry; to challenge and win and everything had always been instruction with him. It was his way as a commander. And now it was serving her. Lukos wasn't a bad fighter, but he wasn't trained in any way. From the way he stood to how he held his sword or how he blocked. No one had ever taught him the right way to use a sword. Without it, he could best her. She was no match blow by blow or to his size and strength. But against a sword? He could never get to her. Not one on one at least.
When she finally paused, he seemed rather tired, and she could use a rest as well. "Let take a break... You won't learn it all in one day..."
How Thalia deflected and distracted Lukos was different than she'd done with any man before. She wasn't the flirtatious sort; more tomboy than seductress. Her distractions usually came from how she was trained by her brothers as a man would. Draw the eye away from one thing while you did something else. Create a diversion. It was the typical bait and switch technique. And while on some instinctual level she may still use it on Lukos, she found herself wanting to distract him in more feminine ways. She liked the hungry look he got when she moved towards him or how his body tensed when she touched him; as if holding himself back lest they end up in bed again. She liked how his eyes moved over her; taking in every curve. And she liked being a weakness to him....even if she had no intentions of exploiting it.
Yet.
After she'd dressed, she returned to the table and made a plate of fruit and eggs while Lukos stared at her from the corner of his eye. She felt his gaze even if he was being rather pensive and it made her skin prickle in a not altogether uncomfortable way. Though she did wonder what he was contemplating. Finally, he wandered away and she scarfed down her food in a most unladylike fashion; starving after last night in the pool and their time together this morning. The eggs were quickly demolished, and then she tore off grapes from the vine; chewing only a couple times before swallowing them almost whole. She tore through an orange and ate a bunch of bread. Her cheeks were bulging when he returned with a sword on his hip and drew her to him; planting a kiss on her lips against her wide-eyed stare.
she finished chewing and swallowed before breaking off another piece of bread in a far more ladylike manner. "Do you have a back holster somewhere? I'm not sure what happened to mine...." She took the skein from him and washed down the bread; finally feeling fuller as he set himself into position. Chuckling, she shook her head. "We aren't training in the middle of all of this.....stuff. Take me outside. The field, perhaps?"
She followed wherever he led her and she set about stretching her arms and rolling her neck. She felt deliciously sore in all the right places between her challenge with Arktos yesterday and their own challenges last night. But it was a welcome feeling. She'd missed her body being exhausted from activity. It'd been weeks.
Squaring off against him, she looked him over. The set of his legs and how he readied himself for her. She lowered her sword and shook her head. "Your center of gravity is all wrong. You're set for power drives. It'll wear you out faster." She went over to him and reset his form so there wasn't so much strain on his hips and thighs; straightening his back so he could move more quickly. She then moved to face him; readying her own sword. Waiting for him to strike, she easily blocked his sword. "Stop.." She shook out her hand as her own sword vibrated from the force. "If you keep that up you'll be worn out in ten minutes."
Their training went on like that for the majority of the morning. Her telling him to advance and then stopping him midway into his strike to correct what he was doing. She remembered her brother doing the same thing to her...he still did from time to time and how incredibly frustrating it was. She just wanted to parry; to challenge and win and everything had always been instruction with him. It was his way as a commander. And now it was serving her. Lukos wasn't a bad fighter, but he wasn't trained in any way. From the way he stood to how he held his sword or how he blocked. No one had ever taught him the right way to use a sword. Without it, he could best her. She was no match blow by blow or to his size and strength. But against a sword? He could never get to her. Not one on one at least.
When she finally paused, he seemed rather tired, and she could use a rest as well. "Let take a break... You won't learn it all in one day..."
"Do you have a back holster somewhere? I'm not sure what happened to mine...."
“One of the men will have it,” Lukos said offhandedly as he turned back around to go get what she asked for. When he came back, she plucked the water out of his hand but he didn’t pay this the slightest attention. At this point she could do almost anything she liked to him as long as she complied with his demand to train. As he hunkered down, she shook her head.
"We aren't training in the middle of all of this.....stuff. Take me outside. The field, perhaps?"
Lukos looked around. They had a little bit of room to move but to his mind, learning among all these things would be more beneficial. Wherever he’d fought, things tended to be in the way. However, he nodded. Perhaps she knew best in this instance. It was strange to have to cow to her but he did not hackle at it. He was not so prideful as to assume he was above being wrong. At times.
He hastily sheathed his sword and went over to his trunk, donning a faded red shirt and his boots before leading her outside. The sun bathed the island in bright buttery light. The lagoon glittered down below and little boats dotted its surface. He led her to the field where they’d sat last night but he did not stop there. Instead he kept walking up the slope beside the temple until the ground began to level off.
To their right was the hill of rock that made up part of the cave and the springs. If they used considerable effort would they be able to scale it and reach the other side where the cave let out onto the cliffs where they’d stood together before. These cliffs were home to sparse, windblown trees growing at odd angles and patches of grass growing between long strips of hard packed earth. One trench had loose earth that had been covered with dead branches of the trees. It was here that they would have enough room and little hindrance.
The wind whipped his hair about as he hunkered down like he’d done before in the temple. Thalia took up her place but immediately shook her head, explaining where he was wrong. He frowned, looking down at himself only to look up and find her right there. She moved him as though he was a man sized doll before going back to her place and raising her sword again. This position felt unnatural. His muscles were not accustomed to it and his movements were not feline swift like they would have been. When he lept at her, she blocked him easily, though the swing was hard.
“Stop. If you keep that up you’ll be worn out in ten minutes.”
He stepped back, glaring at his sword as though it was the problem. She quickly went on to explain his error and though he disagreed with nearly everything she said, he did everything as instructed. The morning wore on. Each time she stopped him mid swing, he bit back frustration but instead of holding onto it, like he might have with something he wanted less, he allowed the feeling to melt away. It was easier to think of her as a teacher, rather than a noble attempting to tell him what to do when her voice changed from emperious to simply instructional.
Every time he came at her, he almost expected for her to tell him that he was doing fine in this area, or that. Instead all he received was feedback and the words “Stop” or “Like this” or his favorite, “I’ll show you”. The sun climbed higher into the sky until it was directly above their heads. He’d shed his shirt some time ago in frustration, trying to blame it for encumbering his movements but he was little better without it. Sweat coated him in a light sheen and he squinted up in the sky as she suggested that they take a break.
“...you won’t learn it all in one day.” she said as though trying to be helpful.
“I might,” he said, dropping his gaze down to her. “Ask Bianor. I’m quick. Let’s keep going.” Moving back into the stance she’d taught him in the beginning, he waited for her but she seemed unwilling. Lukos raked his fingers through his hair and let the tip of his sword bite into the ground at their feet. “I suppose there’s food and water at the temple.” Now that he’d stopped, he could feel his mouth was as dry as if he’d bit into a pile of dust.
Sheathing his sword, he led the way back down the slope and into the cool interior of Ares’s derelict domain. He’d been right. There was more food. Bypassing the wine, he went straight for the water, eyeing her as he did so. After he’d had his fill, he said, “Do all women in Athenia train the way you do?” He knew the answer. She was a very special case. He’d never met a woman anywhere who fought like she did. Women simply were not soldiers.
“Tell me about your brothers. And your father. Why does he allow you to have your own way?” He was interested in the workings of her family as it sounded so unusual. Also, he’d never talked to a noble before about anything except gold. Their houses were open to him when he brought them things but he did not know their day to day lives. It was a world apart. “And why aren’t you married? Or were you betrothed?” The thought of stealing her away from someone else was a little bit thrilling.
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"Do you have a back holster somewhere? I'm not sure what happened to mine...."
“One of the men will have it,” Lukos said offhandedly as he turned back around to go get what she asked for. When he came back, she plucked the water out of his hand but he didn’t pay this the slightest attention. At this point she could do almost anything she liked to him as long as she complied with his demand to train. As he hunkered down, she shook her head.
"We aren't training in the middle of all of this.....stuff. Take me outside. The field, perhaps?"
Lukos looked around. They had a little bit of room to move but to his mind, learning among all these things would be more beneficial. Wherever he’d fought, things tended to be in the way. However, he nodded. Perhaps she knew best in this instance. It was strange to have to cow to her but he did not hackle at it. He was not so prideful as to assume he was above being wrong. At times.
He hastily sheathed his sword and went over to his trunk, donning a faded red shirt and his boots before leading her outside. The sun bathed the island in bright buttery light. The lagoon glittered down below and little boats dotted its surface. He led her to the field where they’d sat last night but he did not stop there. Instead he kept walking up the slope beside the temple until the ground began to level off.
To their right was the hill of rock that made up part of the cave and the springs. If they used considerable effort would they be able to scale it and reach the other side where the cave let out onto the cliffs where they’d stood together before. These cliffs were home to sparse, windblown trees growing at odd angles and patches of grass growing between long strips of hard packed earth. One trench had loose earth that had been covered with dead branches of the trees. It was here that they would have enough room and little hindrance.
The wind whipped his hair about as he hunkered down like he’d done before in the temple. Thalia took up her place but immediately shook her head, explaining where he was wrong. He frowned, looking down at himself only to look up and find her right there. She moved him as though he was a man sized doll before going back to her place and raising her sword again. This position felt unnatural. His muscles were not accustomed to it and his movements were not feline swift like they would have been. When he lept at her, she blocked him easily, though the swing was hard.
“Stop. If you keep that up you’ll be worn out in ten minutes.”
He stepped back, glaring at his sword as though it was the problem. She quickly went on to explain his error and though he disagreed with nearly everything she said, he did everything as instructed. The morning wore on. Each time she stopped him mid swing, he bit back frustration but instead of holding onto it, like he might have with something he wanted less, he allowed the feeling to melt away. It was easier to think of her as a teacher, rather than a noble attempting to tell him what to do when her voice changed from emperious to simply instructional.
Every time he came at her, he almost expected for her to tell him that he was doing fine in this area, or that. Instead all he received was feedback and the words “Stop” or “Like this” or his favorite, “I’ll show you”. The sun climbed higher into the sky until it was directly above their heads. He’d shed his shirt some time ago in frustration, trying to blame it for encumbering his movements but he was little better without it. Sweat coated him in a light sheen and he squinted up in the sky as she suggested that they take a break.
“...you won’t learn it all in one day.” she said as though trying to be helpful.
“I might,” he said, dropping his gaze down to her. “Ask Bianor. I’m quick. Let’s keep going.” Moving back into the stance she’d taught him in the beginning, he waited for her but she seemed unwilling. Lukos raked his fingers through his hair and let the tip of his sword bite into the ground at their feet. “I suppose there’s food and water at the temple.” Now that he’d stopped, he could feel his mouth was as dry as if he’d bit into a pile of dust.
Sheathing his sword, he led the way back down the slope and into the cool interior of Ares’s derelict domain. He’d been right. There was more food. Bypassing the wine, he went straight for the water, eyeing her as he did so. After he’d had his fill, he said, “Do all women in Athenia train the way you do?” He knew the answer. She was a very special case. He’d never met a woman anywhere who fought like she did. Women simply were not soldiers.
“Tell me about your brothers. And your father. Why does he allow you to have your own way?” He was interested in the workings of her family as it sounded so unusual. Also, he’d never talked to a noble before about anything except gold. Their houses were open to him when he brought them things but he did not know their day to day lives. It was a world apart. “And why aren’t you married? Or were you betrothed?” The thought of stealing her away from someone else was a little bit thrilling.
"Do you have a back holster somewhere? I'm not sure what happened to mine...."
“One of the men will have it,” Lukos said offhandedly as he turned back around to go get what she asked for. When he came back, she plucked the water out of his hand but he didn’t pay this the slightest attention. At this point she could do almost anything she liked to him as long as she complied with his demand to train. As he hunkered down, she shook her head.
"We aren't training in the middle of all of this.....stuff. Take me outside. The field, perhaps?"
Lukos looked around. They had a little bit of room to move but to his mind, learning among all these things would be more beneficial. Wherever he’d fought, things tended to be in the way. However, he nodded. Perhaps she knew best in this instance. It was strange to have to cow to her but he did not hackle at it. He was not so prideful as to assume he was above being wrong. At times.
He hastily sheathed his sword and went over to his trunk, donning a faded red shirt and his boots before leading her outside. The sun bathed the island in bright buttery light. The lagoon glittered down below and little boats dotted its surface. He led her to the field where they’d sat last night but he did not stop there. Instead he kept walking up the slope beside the temple until the ground began to level off.
To their right was the hill of rock that made up part of the cave and the springs. If they used considerable effort would they be able to scale it and reach the other side where the cave let out onto the cliffs where they’d stood together before. These cliffs were home to sparse, windblown trees growing at odd angles and patches of grass growing between long strips of hard packed earth. One trench had loose earth that had been covered with dead branches of the trees. It was here that they would have enough room and little hindrance.
The wind whipped his hair about as he hunkered down like he’d done before in the temple. Thalia took up her place but immediately shook her head, explaining where he was wrong. He frowned, looking down at himself only to look up and find her right there. She moved him as though he was a man sized doll before going back to her place and raising her sword again. This position felt unnatural. His muscles were not accustomed to it and his movements were not feline swift like they would have been. When he lept at her, she blocked him easily, though the swing was hard.
“Stop. If you keep that up you’ll be worn out in ten minutes.”
He stepped back, glaring at his sword as though it was the problem. She quickly went on to explain his error and though he disagreed with nearly everything she said, he did everything as instructed. The morning wore on. Each time she stopped him mid swing, he bit back frustration but instead of holding onto it, like he might have with something he wanted less, he allowed the feeling to melt away. It was easier to think of her as a teacher, rather than a noble attempting to tell him what to do when her voice changed from emperious to simply instructional.
Every time he came at her, he almost expected for her to tell him that he was doing fine in this area, or that. Instead all he received was feedback and the words “Stop” or “Like this” or his favorite, “I’ll show you”. The sun climbed higher into the sky until it was directly above their heads. He’d shed his shirt some time ago in frustration, trying to blame it for encumbering his movements but he was little better without it. Sweat coated him in a light sheen and he squinted up in the sky as she suggested that they take a break.
“...you won’t learn it all in one day.” she said as though trying to be helpful.
“I might,” he said, dropping his gaze down to her. “Ask Bianor. I’m quick. Let’s keep going.” Moving back into the stance she’d taught him in the beginning, he waited for her but she seemed unwilling. Lukos raked his fingers through his hair and let the tip of his sword bite into the ground at their feet. “I suppose there’s food and water at the temple.” Now that he’d stopped, he could feel his mouth was as dry as if he’d bit into a pile of dust.
Sheathing his sword, he led the way back down the slope and into the cool interior of Ares’s derelict domain. He’d been right. There was more food. Bypassing the wine, he went straight for the water, eyeing her as he did so. After he’d had his fill, he said, “Do all women in Athenia train the way you do?” He knew the answer. She was a very special case. He’d never met a woman anywhere who fought like she did. Women simply were not soldiers.
“Tell me about your brothers. And your father. Why does he allow you to have your own way?” He was interested in the workings of her family as it sounded so unusual. Also, he’d never talked to a noble before about anything except gold. Their houses were open to him when he brought them things but he did not know their day to day lives. It was a world apart. “And why aren’t you married? Or were you betrothed?” The thought of stealing her away from someone else was a little bit thrilling.
She pursed her lips as he dismissed her request and walked away. One of the men did have it. That was the problem. She really didn't find it amusing to have to fight for her freedom everytime she wanted her own things back. Not that she didn't think she would win, it just set the wrong precedence.
She snatched up another egg and followed him out of the temple; around the open field where they sat last night and up a hill. She hiked up her chiton to follow and was rather intrigued by the scenery. It was a lovely island, however small and primitive. From here she could see out over the sea; the smell of salt water and the wind buffeted them; whipping her skirts about her legs and tearing tendrils of hair from her braid. But she ignored both and set about training Lukos.
By the time she'd told him it was time for a break, her arms were shaking from taking the blows he leveled out and she was weary. But it was a good form of weariness. Her muscles had softened in her time away from Diomedes and from home. She needed to train like this to stay strong; to keep her body from becoming soft and curvy as most of the women she knew. Not that there was anything wrong with a few curves... she just found that her pursuits were best met with an athletic cut.
Lukos panted as he refused to quit and she raised her brow; telling her to keep going. She shook her head. "Sword fighting and ledgers are two different things. If you'd like to practice tomorrow or have the ability to walk, we stop now. ...Besides. I'm tired. And hungry. And thirsty. It's time for a break." He considered her as he pushed his damp hair from his face and then finally relented to her demand; his mind immediately going to food and drink. She nodded in agreement that there would be food and then walked beside him back down the hill and into the temple.
The interior was dark and cool when they entered; a welcome change from the heat of the day as they practiced in the field under the sun. As promised, a sumptuous meal was laid out for them, as was customary it seemed and Thalia dug into the food as he drank water from the skein. She then took it from him when he was done. His natural curiosity took over and he asked her the question that was likely weighing heavily on his mind. Why? She stared at him; the hilt of her sword secured to the cords of her belt haphazardly. Her training with her brothers was a taboo topic in Athenia. Ladies of her breeding did no such thing. It wasn't proper for someone of her stature and sex to wield a sword in such a way and she didn't tell anyone of her skills lest they immediately ostracise her. ...But that wasn't the case here. She was an oddity, of course. She was sure most of the crew didn't take much to a lady who could fight. But they wouldn't test her on it either.
She looked away from him and shook her head to confirm his suspicions. It was most definitely not the norm for ladies to learn to fight. He asked of her brothers and her father; why they allowed her to get her own way and she audibly scoffed like she did when he'd told Imbrascus she was well behaved. "Training wasn't really a decision I got to make. My brothers shoved wooden swords in my hands from an early age. It was the only way they would play with me. They certainly wanted nothing to do with dolls and dressing up. If anything, it was their way. My father? My father thought it amusing that his daughter could fight. He's rather boisterous and liberal.." She almost told him he was a member of the Senate, but refrained. "And my mother was far too soft-spoken and timid to demand anything of how I was raised. I either kept up with them or was left behind and I had no desire to be left behind.."
She took a long drink from the water skein and ate some chicken that had been roasted. When he asked her why she hadn't married or if she were betrothed, she stared at him a bit cynically and smirked; shaking her head. "Men want a wife that will stay home... tend to their garments and the children. I'm too restless and opinionated. And father has a bit of an attachment to me. No one is good enough. Either way, it wasn't discussed often." She supposed she'd have to marry one day.... settle down and have children... She was 24 after all. But after that horrid stint as a ladies maid for Persephone, she doubted very much it was on the minds of anyone at court.
She looked up at him before asking "And you? There are a number of wives on this island. Why have you not found one of your own?"
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She pursed her lips as he dismissed her request and walked away. One of the men did have it. That was the problem. She really didn't find it amusing to have to fight for her freedom everytime she wanted her own things back. Not that she didn't think she would win, it just set the wrong precedence.
She snatched up another egg and followed him out of the temple; around the open field where they sat last night and up a hill. She hiked up her chiton to follow and was rather intrigued by the scenery. It was a lovely island, however small and primitive. From here she could see out over the sea; the smell of salt water and the wind buffeted them; whipping her skirts about her legs and tearing tendrils of hair from her braid. But she ignored both and set about training Lukos.
By the time she'd told him it was time for a break, her arms were shaking from taking the blows he leveled out and she was weary. But it was a good form of weariness. Her muscles had softened in her time away from Diomedes and from home. She needed to train like this to stay strong; to keep her body from becoming soft and curvy as most of the women she knew. Not that there was anything wrong with a few curves... she just found that her pursuits were best met with an athletic cut.
Lukos panted as he refused to quit and she raised her brow; telling her to keep going. She shook her head. "Sword fighting and ledgers are two different things. If you'd like to practice tomorrow or have the ability to walk, we stop now. ...Besides. I'm tired. And hungry. And thirsty. It's time for a break." He considered her as he pushed his damp hair from his face and then finally relented to her demand; his mind immediately going to food and drink. She nodded in agreement that there would be food and then walked beside him back down the hill and into the temple.
The interior was dark and cool when they entered; a welcome change from the heat of the day as they practiced in the field under the sun. As promised, a sumptuous meal was laid out for them, as was customary it seemed and Thalia dug into the food as he drank water from the skein. She then took it from him when he was done. His natural curiosity took over and he asked her the question that was likely weighing heavily on his mind. Why? She stared at him; the hilt of her sword secured to the cords of her belt haphazardly. Her training with her brothers was a taboo topic in Athenia. Ladies of her breeding did no such thing. It wasn't proper for someone of her stature and sex to wield a sword in such a way and she didn't tell anyone of her skills lest they immediately ostracise her. ...But that wasn't the case here. She was an oddity, of course. She was sure most of the crew didn't take much to a lady who could fight. But they wouldn't test her on it either.
She looked away from him and shook her head to confirm his suspicions. It was most definitely not the norm for ladies to learn to fight. He asked of her brothers and her father; why they allowed her to get her own way and she audibly scoffed like she did when he'd told Imbrascus she was well behaved. "Training wasn't really a decision I got to make. My brothers shoved wooden swords in my hands from an early age. It was the only way they would play with me. They certainly wanted nothing to do with dolls and dressing up. If anything, it was their way. My father? My father thought it amusing that his daughter could fight. He's rather boisterous and liberal.." She almost told him he was a member of the Senate, but refrained. "And my mother was far too soft-spoken and timid to demand anything of how I was raised. I either kept up with them or was left behind and I had no desire to be left behind.."
She took a long drink from the water skein and ate some chicken that had been roasted. When he asked her why she hadn't married or if she were betrothed, she stared at him a bit cynically and smirked; shaking her head. "Men want a wife that will stay home... tend to their garments and the children. I'm too restless and opinionated. And father has a bit of an attachment to me. No one is good enough. Either way, it wasn't discussed often." She supposed she'd have to marry one day.... settle down and have children... She was 24 after all. But after that horrid stint as a ladies maid for Persephone, she doubted very much it was on the minds of anyone at court.
She looked up at him before asking "And you? There are a number of wives on this island. Why have you not found one of your own?"
She pursed her lips as he dismissed her request and walked away. One of the men did have it. That was the problem. She really didn't find it amusing to have to fight for her freedom everytime she wanted her own things back. Not that she didn't think she would win, it just set the wrong precedence.
She snatched up another egg and followed him out of the temple; around the open field where they sat last night and up a hill. She hiked up her chiton to follow and was rather intrigued by the scenery. It was a lovely island, however small and primitive. From here she could see out over the sea; the smell of salt water and the wind buffeted them; whipping her skirts about her legs and tearing tendrils of hair from her braid. But she ignored both and set about training Lukos.
By the time she'd told him it was time for a break, her arms were shaking from taking the blows he leveled out and she was weary. But it was a good form of weariness. Her muscles had softened in her time away from Diomedes and from home. She needed to train like this to stay strong; to keep her body from becoming soft and curvy as most of the women she knew. Not that there was anything wrong with a few curves... she just found that her pursuits were best met with an athletic cut.
Lukos panted as he refused to quit and she raised her brow; telling her to keep going. She shook her head. "Sword fighting and ledgers are two different things. If you'd like to practice tomorrow or have the ability to walk, we stop now. ...Besides. I'm tired. And hungry. And thirsty. It's time for a break." He considered her as he pushed his damp hair from his face and then finally relented to her demand; his mind immediately going to food and drink. She nodded in agreement that there would be food and then walked beside him back down the hill and into the temple.
The interior was dark and cool when they entered; a welcome change from the heat of the day as they practiced in the field under the sun. As promised, a sumptuous meal was laid out for them, as was customary it seemed and Thalia dug into the food as he drank water from the skein. She then took it from him when he was done. His natural curiosity took over and he asked her the question that was likely weighing heavily on his mind. Why? She stared at him; the hilt of her sword secured to the cords of her belt haphazardly. Her training with her brothers was a taboo topic in Athenia. Ladies of her breeding did no such thing. It wasn't proper for someone of her stature and sex to wield a sword in such a way and she didn't tell anyone of her skills lest they immediately ostracise her. ...But that wasn't the case here. She was an oddity, of course. She was sure most of the crew didn't take much to a lady who could fight. But they wouldn't test her on it either.
She looked away from him and shook her head to confirm his suspicions. It was most definitely not the norm for ladies to learn to fight. He asked of her brothers and her father; why they allowed her to get her own way and she audibly scoffed like she did when he'd told Imbrascus she was well behaved. "Training wasn't really a decision I got to make. My brothers shoved wooden swords in my hands from an early age. It was the only way they would play with me. They certainly wanted nothing to do with dolls and dressing up. If anything, it was their way. My father? My father thought it amusing that his daughter could fight. He's rather boisterous and liberal.." She almost told him he was a member of the Senate, but refrained. "And my mother was far too soft-spoken and timid to demand anything of how I was raised. I either kept up with them or was left behind and I had no desire to be left behind.."
She took a long drink from the water skein and ate some chicken that had been roasted. When he asked her why she hadn't married or if she were betrothed, she stared at him a bit cynically and smirked; shaking her head. "Men want a wife that will stay home... tend to their garments and the children. I'm too restless and opinionated. And father has a bit of an attachment to me. No one is good enough. Either way, it wasn't discussed often." She supposed she'd have to marry one day.... settle down and have children... She was 24 after all. But after that horrid stint as a ladies maid for Persephone, she doubted very much it was on the minds of anyone at court.
She looked up at him before asking "And you? There are a number of wives on this island. Why have you not found one of your own?"
He at as he listened to her. Her upbringing sounded very unconventional, as though her father had never wanted a daughter in the first place. No one would blame the man there, of course, except that he had sons. A daughter was no burden provided the man was rich enough and she was beautiful. It would not have been difficult to marry her off to a powerful man to solidify an aliance. Unless her father wasn’t terribly good with planning, which Lukos suspected he might not be. Just to look at her, it was a missed opportunity for Thalia’s family that she was here and not with them; anyone would have taken her, bad temper or no. At least to his mind.
She then told him what men wanted and he scoffed even as he nodded in agreement. Those were things most men wanted. He glanced around, trying to imagine a woman sitting around his temple, drawing a needle through his shirts or his trousers, fixing things. Where would she sit? There was nowhere but the bed. Unless of course she chose a crate but all of them were moved about so frequently; nothing stayed in here very long. As for children? There was nothing to imagine. His life and his legacy did not warrant children.
His attention was drawn back when she asked him why he hadn’t married. “How do you know I’m not married?” he asked, popping a grape into his mouth and waiting for her response. After a moment, he plucked up another grape and considered it as he spoke. “There was a girl I foolishly thought I might marry once.” Glancing over at Thalia, he smirked and said, “You’ll laugh but I offered myself to a whore.” He grinned, clearly finding it very funny.
“I was newly free of my old captain and I thought I might make a life for myself outside of...this.” Lukos waved his hand vaguely around as though ‘this’ encompassed his whole life. “But I had no ship, no gold. Nothing to tempt her to go away with me and she very sweetly, but very politely declined. It’s just as well,” he said, shifting so that he was leaning back on his elbows against the table. “According to Arktos, whores make abominable wives. And, you can never be sure that their children are your children.”
“I was young, too. I thought I knew what I wanted,” he chewed his lower lip, looking over at the crates of treasures and useless mishmash that he would spin into ribbons of gold. “She was a little like you, you know,” he shifted again, standing this time, moving on from the grapes to the strips of lamb. Glancing up at her he shook his head. “Not like...you,” he moved his fingers in a way to indicate she had been nowhere near as pretty. “And she wasn’t as infuriating. She was sweet and stupid. But she was a noble girl that my captain had us take from Tangea. She had the most beautiful hair though. It was gold...I was put in charge of her and she was no maid by the time we reached market. Told my captain I’d work for her. He beat me instead, sold her. Next time I found my way there, I went to look for her only to be told she’d run away. And when I found her..” he shrugged as though all of this was just a sad tale that meant nothing now because, in truth, it did mean nothing to him anymore. "She'd taken up whoring."
He did not go on and tell her that the same fate would have befallen her if he hadn’t chased her down. No one would have believed her story and even if they had, his experience of the world told him that no one would have been as altruistic as she’d hoped. Lukos was under no false impression that he’d done her any favors, however. She was still as ruined with him as she would have been elsewhere. Although she had chosen that for herself.
“After that disaster I decided that if I wanted a wife, I needed gold. To get gold, I’d need a ship.” He glanced around. “So I went back to my old captain and here we are. He’s dead, I have his ship, and I do not have the inclination to marry.” Pushing away from the table, he came around and hugged her from behind, pulling her hair back to brush his lips over her neck. “And I’m a hard man to please. Most women bore me. Satisfied?” he asked, understanding his answers would likely not be to her taste.
“Besides, a few of the wives were married before their husbands joined my crew. The rest are whores that the men brought here. These women are not like you.” He rested his hands on her stomach, slowly pulling up the fabric of her chiton as he spoke. “They knew what they were getting into. You…” his hand brushed the bare skin of her thigh. “Still hope to kill me,” he nipped at her shoulder. “And free yourself. You don’t have to settle for bad men like they did.”
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He at as he listened to her. Her upbringing sounded very unconventional, as though her father had never wanted a daughter in the first place. No one would blame the man there, of course, except that he had sons. A daughter was no burden provided the man was rich enough and she was beautiful. It would not have been difficult to marry her off to a powerful man to solidify an aliance. Unless her father wasn’t terribly good with planning, which Lukos suspected he might not be. Just to look at her, it was a missed opportunity for Thalia’s family that she was here and not with them; anyone would have taken her, bad temper or no. At least to his mind.
She then told him what men wanted and he scoffed even as he nodded in agreement. Those were things most men wanted. He glanced around, trying to imagine a woman sitting around his temple, drawing a needle through his shirts or his trousers, fixing things. Where would she sit? There was nowhere but the bed. Unless of course she chose a crate but all of them were moved about so frequently; nothing stayed in here very long. As for children? There was nothing to imagine. His life and his legacy did not warrant children.
His attention was drawn back when she asked him why he hadn’t married. “How do you know I’m not married?” he asked, popping a grape into his mouth and waiting for her response. After a moment, he plucked up another grape and considered it as he spoke. “There was a girl I foolishly thought I might marry once.” Glancing over at Thalia, he smirked and said, “You’ll laugh but I offered myself to a whore.” He grinned, clearly finding it very funny.
“I was newly free of my old captain and I thought I might make a life for myself outside of...this.” Lukos waved his hand vaguely around as though ‘this’ encompassed his whole life. “But I had no ship, no gold. Nothing to tempt her to go away with me and she very sweetly, but very politely declined. It’s just as well,” he said, shifting so that he was leaning back on his elbows against the table. “According to Arktos, whores make abominable wives. And, you can never be sure that their children are your children.”
“I was young, too. I thought I knew what I wanted,” he chewed his lower lip, looking over at the crates of treasures and useless mishmash that he would spin into ribbons of gold. “She was a little like you, you know,” he shifted again, standing this time, moving on from the grapes to the strips of lamb. Glancing up at her he shook his head. “Not like...you,” he moved his fingers in a way to indicate she had been nowhere near as pretty. “And she wasn’t as infuriating. She was sweet and stupid. But she was a noble girl that my captain had us take from Tangea. She had the most beautiful hair though. It was gold...I was put in charge of her and she was no maid by the time we reached market. Told my captain I’d work for her. He beat me instead, sold her. Next time I found my way there, I went to look for her only to be told she’d run away. And when I found her..” he shrugged as though all of this was just a sad tale that meant nothing now because, in truth, it did mean nothing to him anymore. "She'd taken up whoring."
He did not go on and tell her that the same fate would have befallen her if he hadn’t chased her down. No one would have believed her story and even if they had, his experience of the world told him that no one would have been as altruistic as she’d hoped. Lukos was under no false impression that he’d done her any favors, however. She was still as ruined with him as she would have been elsewhere. Although she had chosen that for herself.
“After that disaster I decided that if I wanted a wife, I needed gold. To get gold, I’d need a ship.” He glanced around. “So I went back to my old captain and here we are. He’s dead, I have his ship, and I do not have the inclination to marry.” Pushing away from the table, he came around and hugged her from behind, pulling her hair back to brush his lips over her neck. “And I’m a hard man to please. Most women bore me. Satisfied?” he asked, understanding his answers would likely not be to her taste.
“Besides, a few of the wives were married before their husbands joined my crew. The rest are whores that the men brought here. These women are not like you.” He rested his hands on her stomach, slowly pulling up the fabric of her chiton as he spoke. “They knew what they were getting into. You…” his hand brushed the bare skin of her thigh. “Still hope to kill me,” he nipped at her shoulder. “And free yourself. You don’t have to settle for bad men like they did.”
He at as he listened to her. Her upbringing sounded very unconventional, as though her father had never wanted a daughter in the first place. No one would blame the man there, of course, except that he had sons. A daughter was no burden provided the man was rich enough and she was beautiful. It would not have been difficult to marry her off to a powerful man to solidify an aliance. Unless her father wasn’t terribly good with planning, which Lukos suspected he might not be. Just to look at her, it was a missed opportunity for Thalia’s family that she was here and not with them; anyone would have taken her, bad temper or no. At least to his mind.
She then told him what men wanted and he scoffed even as he nodded in agreement. Those were things most men wanted. He glanced around, trying to imagine a woman sitting around his temple, drawing a needle through his shirts or his trousers, fixing things. Where would she sit? There was nowhere but the bed. Unless of course she chose a crate but all of them were moved about so frequently; nothing stayed in here very long. As for children? There was nothing to imagine. His life and his legacy did not warrant children.
His attention was drawn back when she asked him why he hadn’t married. “How do you know I’m not married?” he asked, popping a grape into his mouth and waiting for her response. After a moment, he plucked up another grape and considered it as he spoke. “There was a girl I foolishly thought I might marry once.” Glancing over at Thalia, he smirked and said, “You’ll laugh but I offered myself to a whore.” He grinned, clearly finding it very funny.
“I was newly free of my old captain and I thought I might make a life for myself outside of...this.” Lukos waved his hand vaguely around as though ‘this’ encompassed his whole life. “But I had no ship, no gold. Nothing to tempt her to go away with me and she very sweetly, but very politely declined. It’s just as well,” he said, shifting so that he was leaning back on his elbows against the table. “According to Arktos, whores make abominable wives. And, you can never be sure that their children are your children.”
“I was young, too. I thought I knew what I wanted,” he chewed his lower lip, looking over at the crates of treasures and useless mishmash that he would spin into ribbons of gold. “She was a little like you, you know,” he shifted again, standing this time, moving on from the grapes to the strips of lamb. Glancing up at her he shook his head. “Not like...you,” he moved his fingers in a way to indicate she had been nowhere near as pretty. “And she wasn’t as infuriating. She was sweet and stupid. But she was a noble girl that my captain had us take from Tangea. She had the most beautiful hair though. It was gold...I was put in charge of her and she was no maid by the time we reached market. Told my captain I’d work for her. He beat me instead, sold her. Next time I found my way there, I went to look for her only to be told she’d run away. And when I found her..” he shrugged as though all of this was just a sad tale that meant nothing now because, in truth, it did mean nothing to him anymore. "She'd taken up whoring."
He did not go on and tell her that the same fate would have befallen her if he hadn’t chased her down. No one would have believed her story and even if they had, his experience of the world told him that no one would have been as altruistic as she’d hoped. Lukos was under no false impression that he’d done her any favors, however. She was still as ruined with him as she would have been elsewhere. Although she had chosen that for herself.
“After that disaster I decided that if I wanted a wife, I needed gold. To get gold, I’d need a ship.” He glanced around. “So I went back to my old captain and here we are. He’s dead, I have his ship, and I do not have the inclination to marry.” Pushing away from the table, he came around and hugged her from behind, pulling her hair back to brush his lips over her neck. “And I’m a hard man to please. Most women bore me. Satisfied?” he asked, understanding his answers would likely not be to her taste.
“Besides, a few of the wives were married before their husbands joined my crew. The rest are whores that the men brought here. These women are not like you.” He rested his hands on her stomach, slowly pulling up the fabric of her chiton as he spoke. “They knew what they were getting into. You…” his hand brushed the bare skin of her thigh. “Still hope to kill me,” he nipped at her shoulder. “And free yourself. You don’t have to settle for bad men like they did.”
