Page 68 of As You Wish


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“Oh God, yes…” I whimpered. I was standing, ankl

es kicked out wide, breasts pressed against the rough cotton of the downstairs dojo in the main teaching area. “Fuck…” I mumbled into the padded wall as Keel’s tongue flicked my clit hard, those long agile fingers that were wielding his spear with such precision only minutes ago, now pushing into me.

“Gonna have to be quick…” Keel gasped against my skin. He gave my clit another few long licks as if he couldn’t help himself. My legs widened further to help him move in closer, to increase that delicious contact, something. A familiar intense ache spread from inner thigh to deep inside me, to the other thigh. “Class is about to start.”

Fuck class and fuck him, I thought as he got to his feet. I heard his zip lower and the crackle of a packet and then God, yes. The thick head of his cock was pushing into me, forcing its way into me, my hips jerking backwards to ease his way in, a groan escaping from the both of us when he bottomed out.

“You feel so good,” he hissed into my ear as his hand snuck around and then he began to move. There’s nothing sweet or careful about what he’s doing, this was a hard, quick fuck. His fingers plucked at my clit, his dick slammed in and out and I’m left pinned to the wall, helpless under his onslaught.

“Oh, yes…” I sighed, meeting him stroke for stroke, twisting my hips and working myself back on his cock, each slamming motion pushing me closer and closer. “Fuck!” I yelped. When his pace picked up I heard more and more noise outside the dojo. I’d come here early to practise sparring, but it turned into something else pretty damn quickly. That twisted smile and green eyes had me out of my jeans and panting against the wall in record time. “People are coming!”

“Mmm…” Keel said, nuzzling the back of my neck. “Me too. C’mon, babe, come for me, come with me.”

I’d always hated that trope in romance novels, being told when to come as if a man’s voice was all it took. Orgasms could be an elusive thing for me and taking orders from some stranger to respond on demand just made me feel pressured and very unsexy. But maybe because Keel’s actions spoke louder than his words, his fingers sliding on either side of my clit, forcing the hood back and forth, harder and faster, his hips shifting until the big head of his cock was dragging over that spot inside me... My fingernails dug into the walls when my clit began to throb in the best way. Soon, I thought, so, so soon…

“Mr Keel…?”

I should ‘ve turned around, wondered why anyone was trying to talk to Keel right now when he was obviously otherwise engaged. Instead I came, hard, gasping into the wall as the dictated orgasm washed through me, spurred on again when Keel came moments later. He pulled me to face him, removing the condom and kissing my panting mouth with his.

“This was great cardio, but no good for developing my spear fighting,” I said.

“So same time tomorrow morning?”

“Totally.”

I pulled my clothes into place and grabbed my books and bag and ran up the stairs, not meeting the many curious stares as I exited the room. I soon wished I’d been able to follow Keel’s order as I walked into History class.

“Ah, the human has decided to join us,” the lecturer said as I tried to sneak into the back row. “After having several days off studying, surely you’d be prepared for a little pop quiz.” Everyone’s eyes turned to look at me, taking in my flushed face and dishevelled clothes, I’m sure.

“Um… well...”

Artificial light shone off the professor’s round spectacles so he looked like one of those highway cops in the middle of nowhere who pull you over to ask if you squeal like a pig. “What role did the Granathians have in the Great Crusade of 1933?”

Who the fuck were the Granathians? I’d read through the textbook chapters Vella’s notes identified but had to admit, all the foreign names had begun to blend together. While I’d been quite good at world history at home, I’d had my short lifetime to familiarise myself with World War I and the Hundred Years War, not a couple of days. I’m sure I looked just like a deer in the headlights, eyes wide, heart pounding, my mouth dropping open but nothing useful coming out. The professor’s smile spread across his face, a twisted malicious thing. And then I said, “The Granathians were described as the king-makers, a powerful family, yet few ever stepped up to try and take the throne. Rather, they used their power to throw their support behind candidates they felt had the best chance of success and would mortgage that alliance to the hilt once their king or queen was installed. The Great Crusade was the last real attempt to ensure no dragons were left on the continent, outside of Aravisia. Some say the Granathians pushed the then King Herald into the bloody rampage through the twenty-odd different countries, but others argue that their subsequent fall in favour after the massive backlash that arose from the extreme loss of life and cost of the Crusade may have resulted in a little creative writing when it comes to history books, casting them as the puppet masters, manipulating a noble, if weak, King and paving the way for the subsequent rise of the distaff line of House Casterson.”

Silence fell over the room. Now it wasn’t just me sitting there with their mouth hanging open. Professor Rend’s snapped shut first, thinning down before he gathered himself, drawing a deep breath in. “Yes, well, it seems you have learned something, if not some extremely suspect theories about the royal family. Take your seat, we must begin working on your final paper for the course.”

The rest of the day seemed to follow the same pattern. Not being late to class due to fucking Keel, but whenever called on by Professors, I had the answers, whether I remembered them or not. I couldn’t work out what the hell had happened, but for now, I went with it. The identical stunned looks on my teachers’ faces were enough for me to not question it. I breezed through two lectures, a test and a lab lesson with little to no effort, floating down to the dining room for lunch.

“Hey, Tess.” I looked up from my plate to see Keel had come over, sliding along the bench seat until his thigh brushed mine.

“Lieutenant Keel, this is a surprise,” Alden said.

He shrugged. “I had an hour before the next class. You ready to work on your defence, Vella? You keep broadcasting your strokes.” She grimaced at this, then nodded before going back to her lunch. “And what about you, Tess? You free after school? I felt like we were really getting somewhere this morning, but there were a few issues with rhythm. I’d love to work those out.”

I stiffened beside him, my eyes flicking around the group before turning to him. I noted his dropped to my mouth and stayed there as if he needed to see my reply to take it in. “Ah… I can’t after school. I think the morning session is all the time I’m going to have free with all the assignments coming in.”

“OK,” he said, “I guess we’ll just have to make the most of what we have then, won’t we?” His voice was a low purr. If what we were up to this morning hadn’t done the rounds yet, he was pretty much advertising it to the world now. “Until the tomorrow then. Cadets,” he said with a nod and then got to his feet and walked off.

“Fucking flyboys,” Rylen said, dropping his sandwich onto his plate as he watched Keel go. “Have you worked out which lucky scale chaser you’re taking to this thing?”

“Nope, but I’m having fun thinning the herd,” Grey said, casting a look over his shoulder which resulted in quite a few women turning around to giggle.

“And at any rate, won’t you be a flyboy by the year’s end, or are you turning away from the family trade?” Alden said.

“Damn straight I am. My brothers can chase glory, I intend to keep a desk very warm somewhere in the most labyrinthine of government departments. No chance of this little black duck being called up. These bloody Games are my first and last exercises as a fighting dragon rider if I can get that damned double-barrelled spin down. Jingilian gets vertigo, as I’ve told the Captain over and over. There’s no amount of training that’s going to get him over it, though the Anatomy prof reckons she’s got something experimental to try on him.”

“Well, if it shows no sign of improving,

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