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Things came to a head while Xelrim was cooking one evening. “I need you to fill me. Tonight,” Shayla said beneath her breath, sounding stern, coming close as she set the table, while holding Frenel.
I’d felt better about Xelrim’s poor hearing before I’d witnessed him murder five fighters. But I needed her just as badly, too. “Tonight,” I agreed, my voice hoarse at the thought. “Every time I think of you I start to swell.”
A forgiving smile crossed her lips, turning them impudent. “Good.”
So I spent all of dinner considering my options.
We couldn’t go to the barn; I wasn’t done rebuilding it, and it was too cold to just take Frenel outside and leave him away from the heat of our bodies, but we couldn’t risk leaving him inside on his own.
Which meant that we were going to have to somehow join beneath Xelrim’s very roof without him knowing. There was no way it wouldn’t be risky, but while I liked my head attached to my neck very much, my root liked Shayla’s cunt more.
She went upstairs when dinner was over, giving me a steamy look, and I finished the last of my chores like nothing was afoot, and went upstairs, too, walking past her door.
She’d left it open for me.
It was all I could do to not detour in right now, but I already had a plan...and I’d inadvertently been practicing.
I waited that night until I could hear Xelrim’s snores, and then I got out of my bed and crept down to her floor, letting myself in. I heard her breathing change the moment she spotted me by moonlight, as I stepped up to her bedside—she’d been waiting up for me.
“I need you,” she whispered, running a telling hand against her nightdress, to squeeze between her thighs.
“I need you, too—but I’m not allowed to touch you. Xelrim’s been very clear.”
She made a quiet sound, letting me know what she thought about that and I softly chuckled. “I will be over here, equidistant between you and the baby,” I explained quietly, standing between her and the crib at the side of the bed, near one of the corners. “So I can say I heard him crying and came down to help, if we get caught.”
Her full lips fell into a pout that I heard in her voice. “And what about helping me, Val?”
“Don’t worry. Just take off your dress and lie down.”
I watched her deliciously wriggle to do as she’d been told, while I waited nearby, and when she was through, she turned to me expectantly.
“Shhhh,” I counseled, putting a finger in front of my lips, then warned “Don’t scream” as I reached for her bedpost.
I’d spent some of my studies since I’d last touched her figuring out just how it was my magic worked—how much of myself I could give away before I had to steal it back.
And the answer was very much indeed.
Shayla’s bed was made of wood that’d been long dead, but it was nothing for me now to bring it back to life, especially as brimming with it as I was at the thought of being in her. I felt it answer me, taking the essence of myself as I channeled it into flourishing and growing—as parts of me were, now—until the gently rounded finial at the end of the bedpost rose up, and I willed it to snake towards her.
Shayla’s eyes were wide in the moonlight, and she was already breathing hard, watching me...and for my part, I was glorying in my power.
I put my other hand to her bed’s lowest railing, channeling more of my energy through, until all of her bedposts had turned into vines that were angling for her body.
“Val,” she mouthed quietly, as the nearest one wrapped around her ankle and began winding its way up her leg.
I longed to follow the trail it made with my kisses, but until I could, I would obey the letter of Xelrim’s law, if not the spirit—and it reported back to me everything it experienced on its path. The smoothness of her skin, the light salt of her day upon it, the way her flesh gave and rippled as it squeezed—I realized when it was halfway up her leg how I was about to experience her and started to breathe deeply.
Before, in the barn, I’d been confined to whatever of her I could touch, what my mouth could taste, what my body could know.
But now...I could almost envelope her whole.
One of the vines grasped for her arm like a tendril to hold it over her head, another bound her waist, and the fourth sought for the perfection that lay between her legs.
She bravely opened herself up for me, feeling the rounded finial nudge her with a gasp.
I let go of the bedpost and grasped hold of the railing, knowing I was going to need it to hold myself up soon. “Let me enter you,” I whispered at her.
“Please,” she said, letting her knees fall open and exposing herself to me.
