SECRETS OF THE WIND by Charlotte Boyett-Compo Read Free Book Online Page B

cut, or plucked or bent until it does.”
    “Are her children so easily bent?” she asked softly.
    Ruan turned to her and reached out to drag the backs of his fingers down her cheek. “This one isn’t,” he answered and lowered his head toward her, but Chas stepped back, putting space between them.
    “Have you been outside today, Your Grace?” she asked, going to the bed to take up the shawl that had been left for her use. “Will I need this?”
    The heir-apparent shrugged. “Viridian is on the coast so it might be wise to take it,” he answered. “My mother picked out your horse and the clothes you are to wear in Viridian.”
    Chas swirled the shawl around her shoulders and reached for her reticule. “I am ready, then, Your Grace.”
    He looked at her for a long moment, his eyes slightly narrowed, then walked to the door. “I’ll meet you in the bailey,” he said. “You do ride?”
    “Aye, Your Grace, I do,” she said. She wanted to ask why they would not be taking a shuttle, for Viridian was a good twenty miles from Sciath Keep, but he was already through the door, his boot heels ringing on the polished marble of the corridor.
    Ruan shoved his hands into the pockets of his britches as he stomped down the hall. So , he thought, a muscle working in his jaw, the chit was going to play hard to get . Well, that was something new. But it certainly hadn’t been in his plans for the day. Just staring at her had given him a rock-hard erection that needed easing and he had no intention of riding all the way to Viridian in that condition.
    Lucia, the Spáinneach maid who at that moment was cleaning his quarters, had offered herself earlier. If she was still there, he knew relief was but a fumble away.
    And the dusky, doe-eyed beauty was still in his quarters, her shapely rump in prominent view as she bent over his bed, rearranging the coverlet. She glanced around as he came into the room, kicking the door shut behind him.
    Ruan’s hands were already on the buttons of his fly, working through them with speed and purposefulness. Lucia smiled at him and turned her back, bracing her hands on the side of his bed as he stepped up to her, pushing her down over the edge of the bed with one hand as he continued to work his fly with the other.
    Pushing the skirts of the servant’s gown up her back, Ruan freed his cock from the restraints of his britches even as he nudged Lucia’s feet farther apart with his booted feet.
    With the Spáinneach beauty’s rounded ass in the air, Ruan shoved his cock into her cunt with more force than he intended, for she cried out. He mumbled an apology—which surprised him since such behavior was not normal for him—then slid one hand up her back to grip her shoulder as he began thrusting into her.
    Closing his eyes to the ebony hair of the woman rocking beneath him, Ruan replaced it with the pale gold of Chastain Neff’s long braid. Instead of the scent of harsh soap and furniture polish that clung to the servant, he imagined the delicate scent of gardenia that he had smelled on Chastain. Instead of the guttural grunts coming from the body under him, he replayed the soft sighs that had issued from Chastain’s lips as she lay unconscious after he had brought her to Sciath.
    Ramming himself into Lucia’s willing body had always satisfied him, but at the moment, he was straining to come and having a problem doing so. She was tight enough still to give him pleasure and accommodating enough that he had nothing more to do than smile at her for her to drop to her knees before him. Well-trained in the arts of a whore, Lucia’s lips were talented and her mouth was a wet, warm cavern that suckled better than any he’d ever known. Perhaps it was that muscle rather than the nether one he needed.
    He pulled out of her and stepped back. “Suck me,” he ordered.
    Lucia didn’t question his command but sank to her knees and turned around to face him. She reached for him and took him into her