Page 61 of Bull Moon Rising
Hesitant, I brush my fingers over his hand, wondering what it’ll feel like. I’m not entirely surprised to find that it’s warm, his skin like normal Taurian skin under my touch. Magic, like he said. I trace each finger and then run my hand over his palm. I move lower, encircling his wrist, and sure enough, I can feel the etchings of glyphs as if they’ve been carved into his skin. “That’s incredible.”
“It is. It feels like a real arm, a real hand.” He makes a fist, as if proving to himself that it’s possible. “But because it’s an artifact, it’s expensive. The guild agreed to sell it to me rather than to one of the holders. I suspect it would have been a different story if one of the holders was in need of a right hand, but since I was the only one, it came to me.” He flexes his fingers again. “Now I must pay the guild back for its largess, and to do so, I need students that tithe to Magpie’s nest.”
Of course. Because that’s how guild brokering works. Teachers don’t go into the tunnels, so they’re paid via tithe from graduating students. If no students graduate, there’s no money coming in. No wonder Hawk is so very stressed. Magpie is at risk of losing her job and becoming homeless, and Hawk…well, Hawk could lose his entire hand. “So it’s more important than ever that we get things right. Not just for Magpie, but for you, too.”
“Indeed.”
I reach up and play with his fingers, thinking. There has to be something I can do. Some sort of string I can pull. As a holder’s heir, I’m used to being the one with all the power. People listen to Lady Aspeth Honori. People fear getting on her bad side. But here, I’m just Aspeth who wants to be Sparrow. I’m just another student, and if I interfere, it’ll cause more problems.
Money would solve things. Money would solve things for both of us, but it’s the one thing I don’t have, even with all the power of my family name. I think of my father…and then I think how he would react if he knew I married a Taurian just so I could apprentice. He’d be horrified at both the Taurian and the apprenticing. My father is a holder who believes firmly that grunt work should be left to, well, grunts. Lessers.
I don’t think of Hawk as my lesser, though. If I’m being honest, he’s better than me—and most humans—at absolutely everything he puts his mind to. I don’t think of Magpie, Lark, and the others as lesser, either. Or Gwenna, despite the fact that she was my servant for years prior to coming here. We’ve bonded over the last several days of exercises, helping one another with the ropes that tie us together, or laughing when someone makes a mistake. We share our successes and pick one another up when we fail.
They’re my companions.
My…friends.
I don’t think I’ve had friends before now, and the thought is a sobering one. I know of every family in society, of course. I know which holder’s son is married to which daughter and who lives where and their crests and who tithes to them. I know about them all, and yet I don’tknowthem. The thought of telling any of them of my guild adventures is utterly terrifying. They wouldn’t understand.
I grew up with the nobility, and yet I’m a stranger to all. Sad.
I continue to toy with Hawk’s large fingers, marveling at the magic that makes it feel as real as flesh and blood. It’s strange. His hand is so warm and so big and yet I wouldn’t know it was magical if he hadn’t told me. It’s fascinating to think of how much he’s overcome. There are sides to him I’m unaware of, pieces I haven’t yet learned. That’s rather exciting. He’s an interesting person, my strange new husband. I tug on onefingertip, wondering how it must have felt to lose a hand and then regain it. “Tell me more about this. What does it feel like? Does it feel different or does it feel like your hand? How does the magic work? Can you do fine movements with the artifact? Is there loss of motion?”
His chest rumbles, and I realize after a moment that he’s laughing quietly, the chuckles vibrating his big body.
“What’s so funny?” I turn and frown up at his form in the darkness. “It’s a legitimate question, and we’re in this business because of artifacts, yes? Why wouldn’t I want to learn more about one that’s attached to you?”
Hawk strokes his magic hand over my belly, his fingers teasing at my blouse. “Do you truly want to know how it feels?”
“Isn’t that what I asked?” I sound breathless and uncertain as he toys with the waistband of my clothing. Is he…?
My breath completely escapes me as his hand slides under my clothes and cups my pussy. One thick finger strokes in the cleft of my sex and I’m shocked to realize I’m already incredibly wet. He circles my clit, teasing it, and whispers in my ear. “Tell me if you think I have good control over my hand, hmm?”
Lips parted, I make a choked sound as he continues to toy with the sensitive flesh. His finger feels scorching hot against my skin, and he moves slowly and maddeningly, each languid circle driving me more and more insane. I look up at him, at his big, strange face, his eyes gleaming in the dark. My hands curl against his chest and I have no words to speak. I can only feel, and feel, and feel.
He adds another finger, and then he’s rubbing back and forth, caressing my clit from both sides. I make a whimpery noise and he leans in closer. “Shhh. You’re supposed to be sleeping, naughty thing.”
I grab double handfuls of his shirt, twisting the fabric as his fingers slip over my slick heat. Gods, I’m so wet. His strokes are just gliding over my skin, and every so often I can hear the wet sound of my pussy, just loud enough for it to fill the tent. I should be horrified, but instead I’m so aroused that it only turns me on more. Panting, I cling to him, trying to keep quiet. The climax builds, and I lean forward, grabbing a mouthful of his shirt and biting down on it to stifle the scream in my throat as my legs jerk and I come, soaking his hand with my release. He keepsrubbing me, whispering my name, until he wrings a second orgasm out of me in quick succession.
“Does that answer your question?” he murmurs in my ear.
I can’t evenrememberthe question.
TWENTY
ASPETH
19 Days Before the Conquest Moon
Day two inthe woods is miserable. It rains upon us all night long, and we’re shivering and cold. The fire won’t stay lit, and no one’s in a good mood. We’re beset by swarms of bugs that bite and sting every exposed inch of skin, and I slap at my arms and legs repeatedly, because the dratted things even bite me through my clothes.
Hawk seems to be in a foul mood after that night’s training, and after being bitten by bugs and listening to Magpie screech at us about how terrible we are, the last thing I want is to be stuck in a closed tent with an equally grumpy Taurian. He’s been so snarly all night and it irritates me. I’m reminded of my etiquette teacher’s words—that you can win far more suitors with sweets than with vinegar—and so I paste a smile to my face despite my fatigue.
I’m going to charm my husband, damn it all.
So I take off my sweaty guild coat and unlace my corset so I can breathe, relaxing. I pull off my boots and lie back atop the blankets because the day is warm and the sun is beating down upon our tent outside. At least it’s somewhat dark in here. Since we’re training in the night, we’re having to sleep during the day. Hawk stomps in, his mood as foul as it was earlier, and I don’t comment upon it. I just stretch, enjoying thefeeling of being able to relax and not carrying a heavy pack upon my back.
He tosses his coat down on the bottom of the tent, his jaw clenched, and then all but rips his shirt off.