Fifty First Times: A New Adult Anthology Read online

  “Come,” he said in his thick accent. “I promise you’ll like it.”

  She obeyed. The swishing of her silken robes was the only sound as she crossed the room in tentative steps. When she reached her side of the bed, she sat on the edge of the mattress and inspected the tray.

  Instantly, her mouth dropped open.

  “Desserts from the Northlands,” he said. He scooted nearer, settling beside her and folding his legs so that one knee rested against her hip. He nodded toward a single goblet. “And summer cider.”

  Lyra’s first instinct was to mistrust the offering. Why had he brought these delicacies from her home? To taunt her? Or as a bribe? Did he think she could be bought so easily?

  At her hesitation, Kai explained, “I know how much you miss the cider.”

  She turned to him with a question in her eyes.

  Kai dropped his gaze and used a finger to trace the patterns on her dress. “I overheard you talking with the chambermaid when you first arrived. It took a few days, but I eventually found some fresh import at the market in town.” He reached for her hand, but seemed to think better of it. “I know this doesn’t feel like your home, but I want you to be comfortable here.”

  A soft sensation spread through Lyra’s chest, followed by a pang of guilt for her cruel assumptions about him. She looked at Kai—really studied him for the first time—taking in the masculine angle of his jaw and the stubble of growth along his chin, his nose slightly bent from an old injury. When his gaze flickered up at her, Lyra realized the maid had been right. Kai’s eyes were the precise shade of hura spice, rich and warm and brown, fringed by thick lashes that gave him a hint of boyish innocence.

  In his unique way, Kai was rather spectacular. How had she failed to notice before?

  “Thank you,” she said.

  He reached for the goblet and handed it to her. “Here, drink it while it’s still cold.”

  She paused to inhale the scent, then took a greedy gulp, closing her eyes as the flavor of honeyed fruit transported her home. Her eyes prickled with tears, but she couldn’t stop smiling. He was right—she’d missed this.

  “May I?” he asked, gesturing for the cup. When she passed it to him, he took a sip while watching her from above the rim.

  “What do you think?” she asked.

  “I’m unaccustomed to the taste.” He drank again, still watching her. “But with time, I could easily grow to enjoy it.”

  Lyra’s face heated. She had a feeling he wasn’t referring to the cider. Deeper still, she knew the time had come to stop avoiding him. There was a hunger in his gaze that not even she could misinterpret. She swallowed her fear and told him, “I was thinking the same about your melon wine.”

  “Wait until you try the autumn ale. It’s my favorite.” Abruptly, his gaze shifted to the base of her neck. He leaned forward and lifted her hair while blowing on the beads of perspiration that had formed there. The intimate act made her skin prickle into chills. “It’s warm tonight,” he said. “Do you need help unlacing your robes?”

  “I do.” She stood from the bed. “I’ll call for my maid.”

  “Please.” He caught her wrist, the corner of his mouth pulling into a grin that tugged a dimple into view. Her heart skipped. “Permit me.”

  She lowered to the mattress as if entranced. Much like melon wine, Kai’s touch was new to her, but not at all unpleasant. Licking her lips, she faced the wall and pulled her long, blond hair aside to give him access to her laces.

  The bed shifted as he moved behind her, and then she felt the brush of his fingers at the nape of her neck. After a quick tug, he freed the knot and began the process of loosening the stays from top to bottom. Each time he exposed a new inch of skin along her spine, he stroked the spot with his thumb and put a hitch in her pulse.

  “Do you ride?” he asked, the deft motion of his hands never slowing.

  “Yes.” Lyra’s voice cracked, and she cleared her throat. “But not often enough. My father lost most of his ponies in the war.”

  Kai made a noise of understanding. “I’ll take you to the stables tomorrow and have a saddle commissioned for you. Then we’ll match you with the right mare.”

  “That’s kind of you.”

  “I meant what I said,” he insisted. “This is your home. What’s mine is yours.”

  While he continued his work, a glimmer of metal drew Lyra’s gaze to the corner, where Kai had discarded his double-edged blade and curved dagger. She had noticed a lattice of scars along his knuckles and forearms, evidence of hand-to-hand combat. How many of her countrymen had he slain? Had he killed her brother?

  She had to know.

  “My father told me the Blood Moon Battle was horrific,” she said, testing him.

  Kai halted his movements and followed her gaze to his weapons. Hesitantly, he agreed, “It was.”

  “You were there, then?”

  “Yes, but briefly. I was assigned to the third wave.” Lyra sank in relief. Her brother had died much earlier in the fray, one of the first casualties. Kai took her hand and placed it low on his belly, where a lump of scar tissue marred his flesh. “It’s where I earned this.”

  Quickly, she pulled her fingers away, but not before they absorbed the tightness of his abdomen and sent the images to her brain. Her voice shook when she said, “May the gods grant us peace.”

  “Long-lasting peace,” he agreed. Kai separated another section of fabric and skimmed a palm over her bare flesh. “You’re tense.” It wasn’t a question, and Lyra didn’t deny it. After unlacing another seam, he rested his fingers atop her shoulders and lightly massaged her. “Does this help?”

  A breath of tension escaped her lungs, relaxing her at once. His affectionate touch eased her nerves, despite the fact that he was undressing her and she wore nothing beneath her robes except for thin linen shorts. He worked the knots from her muscles for several minutes. She thanked him, and he resumed unfastening her laces.

  “There.” Finally, he pulled apart the silk panels. “All finished.”

  Cool air caressed her skin for the briefest of moments before Kai closed the distance and pressed his chest to her back, his heart thumping hard against her.

  The shock of his heated flesh made her breath catch. Then his mouth was at her earlobe, whispering something in a language she couldn’t interpret. The utterances were lovely, but all Lyra could do was close her eyes and savor the tickle of warm breath in her ear. Unexpected pleasure washed over her, and she tipped back her head to rest on his chest.

  Still murmuring secrets, Kai grasped her sleeves and slid them down over her shoulders. When she pulled free both arms, he slowly turned her to face him. The hunger in his eyes had multiplied, his features both stunning and fierce in the lantern’s dancing glow.

  “I don’t speak much Seryn,” she whispered. “What were you saying to me?”

  He bared her by lowering the dress to her waist, but kept his gaze fixed on hers. “I told you about the treaty ceremony, when I saw you for the first time. You were standing off to the side, holding a tiny girl.”

  “Elissa.” A bittersweet smile lifted her lips. “My sister. She was afraid.”

  “I watched you sway with her in your arms. You’re a nurturer.”

  Lyra ducked her head. “I don’t know about that.”

  “I recognized it at once.” He tipped her chin and lifted one of her blond locks. “And then the sun broke through the clouds and touched your hair. You glowed so beautifully that I dropped my blade and broke formation. My father was furious.”

  She laughed quietly. “Did you really?”

  “Yes,” he insisted. “I kept trying to catch your eye, but you wouldn’t look my way.”

  “I don’t remember much.” Fear had blotted out nearly all recollection of that day.

  He inched nearer and trailed a fingertip along her collarbone. “I hoped that our fathers would pair us. I knew you would have to leave your home, but I wished for it all the same. Maybe the god
s are punishing me for my selfishness, because sleeping beside you all these nights—never touching you—has driven me half mad.”

  Lyra parted her lips, but she didn’t know what to say. “Sorry” didn’t seem to fit.

  Kai glanced at her mouth. “I want to kiss you more than I want to breathe.”

  As he leaned closer, Lyra closed her eyes, pulse racing in anticipation of what would come next. Kai’s hand curled around her neck and gently drew her in, but he stopped before they formed a connection.

  “May I?” he whispered against her lips.

  Lyra blinked open her eyes.

  She couldn’t believe he’d asked for permission. They’d handfasted under the terms of her father’s surrender. She belonged to Kai—his to command. But he held there, patiently awaiting her response. His breaths came quick and shallow against her mouth as desperation played over his features.

  He was nervous, too.

  Lyra’s heart melted a little. It seemed they had more in common than she thought.

  “Yes,” she told him. “You may.”

  So he kissed her, slow and sweet, for the very first time.

  The sweep of his lips was indescribably soft, one brush and then another, growing firm as the seconds passed. He skimmed the tip of his tongue along her upper lip, and when she opened to him, he explored her with shallow licks that drew her out, tempting her to taste him in return.

  And she did.

  The flavor of summer cider lingered inside his mouth, intoxicating when blended with the musky male scent of his skin.

  It went on like this, their tongues lightly seeking and curling, until the kiss turned urgent. Their breaths came in stolen gasps, their mouths moving in desperation as they drew closer. Kai’s hands traveled over her exposed back, grasping at her as if to pull her inside him. She felt his kiss all over, warming her in places that had never before come alive.

  He drew back, panting, his eyelids heavy when he asked, “More?”

  Lyra licked her swollen lips and nodded. She didn’t know what he meant, but whatever he was offering, she wanted it.

  He pressed his lips to her ear and kissed a trail down the side of her neck. When he reached the middle of her shoulder, an embarrassing groan of pleasure arose from Lyra’s throat. Her cheeks flushed, but the sound seemed to please Kai. With a growl of his own, he suckled the spot, alternately ravaging it with the scrape of his teeth while Lyra let her head go slack to give him free rein. The sounds of her ragged sighs filled the room, but she no longer cared. She never imagined anything could feel this exquisite.

  He sat up and frowned, then rubbed his thumb over her shoulder. His voice was low and husky. “I’ve marked you. Your skin is more delicate than I’m accustomed to. I shouldn’t have been so rough.”

  She hated for him to stop. Reaching to cup his cheek, she allowed herself to explore the scratch of his whiskers against her palm. Her skin was pale against his dark complexion, but he didn’t seem so foreign now. In fact, the contrast was beautiful.

  “I don’t mind,” she told him. “You can do it again if you like.”

  “But I left a bruise.”

  She swept her hair to the opposite shoulder and teased, “Then perhaps I need one here to match?”

  Lips quirking in a grin, he dipped his mouth to the bend of her neck, but softer now, like he feared he might break her. He drove her to insanity with his teasing feather licks, and when he pulled back, she was dizzy with new sensations.

  “More?”

  Kai’s fingertips bit into her upper arms, but despite his brief lapse in control, there was such kindness within him. More than she had ever expected. The mystery of what they would do next sent a shiver of fear down her spine, but Lyra trusted that he would guide her through it with the greatest of care.

  “Yes,” she told him in a voice barely recognizable as her own. She wanted more of the hot rush through her veins, more of the distraction from homesickness and worry.

  She wanted more of Kai.

  He helped her stand from the bed and pushed her heavy silk robes over her hips, where the panels landed on the carpet with a light whoosh. He cradled her waist between his hands and gazed at her reverently, taking in the dip of her navel and the outside swell of her thighs. But in nothing but a pair of nearly transparent linen shorts, Lyra felt overexposed. She crossed both arms over her chest and wished she could hide.

  He must have read the anxiety on her face, because he moved aside to peel back the blankets for her. The night was warm, so he discarded the heaviest covers, leaving behind one thin sheet. It was enough. She climbed in and scooted to the middle of the bed, then pulled up the fabric to conceal her chest. There seemed to be too many cushions about, and she wasn’t sure if she should sit back against them or lie flat.

  She looked to Kai for guidance.

  Kneeling on all fours, he reached behind her and flung every last pillow to the floor. When he crawled beneath the sheet, he lay on his side facing her, his head resting beneath one curled arm. She mirrored his position and fisted the bedsheet as a prickling of uncertainty crept over her. The candlelight cast shadows beneath Kai’s cheekbones, making him seem far older than his twenty-one years. She had felt so brave with his face buried at her throat, but now that the rush of desire had slowed, she couldn’t hold his gaze.

  “Come here.” He loosened her grip and took one hand between both of his. When she wriggled nearer, he peered at her intently. “I promise I’ll do my best not to hurt you.”

  Lyra’s muscles tensed. She had heard rumors that a maiden’s first time was a painful experience, though she didn’t fully understand why. Friends who’d handfasted ahead of her had teased about not being able to sit down the next day. But when Lyra had gathered enough courage to ask her mother, the woman had replied with a cryptic Be generous with him, and he’ll be generous with you.

  What did that mean?

  “Don’t be afraid of me,” he said. “If you need me to stop, I will. I don’t mind waiting for you.”

  She bit her lip and glanced at their linked fingers. “I’ve already made you wait.”

  “There’s no hurry. We have a lifetime to get this right.”

  Lyra recalled what he’d told her just minutes ago: Sleeping beside you all these nights—never touching you—has driven me half mad. Now she understood her mother’s remark about generosity. Kai was well within his rights to make demands of her. If their union faltered, so would the peace between their people, and he could use that threat to force her into his arms under duress.

  But he didn’t do that, and she wouldn’t make him wait any longer.

  They locked eyes, and something within Lyra shifted. A tiny kernel of warmth burst and took root directly behind her breastbone like a seed planted in fertile soil. Perhaps she didn’t love Kai now, but she had faith that someday she would.

  “I’m not afraid.”

  She eliminated the space between them, locking both arms around his neck as she kissed him with all the gratitude in her heart. He responded with a moan that vibrated against her chest, and within minutes, they were both fighting for oxygen. When Kai hooked a finger around the waist of her shorts, he glanced at her and waited for a nod of consent before tugging them over her hips and down to her ankles, where she kicked them free. After peeling off his breeches, he settled beside her, his leg hair tickling her thighs.

  Slowly, he rotated their bodies until he lay atop her, supporting most of his weight on one elbow. While they kissed, he used his free hand to brush back the hair from her face and stroke her cheek. Then he moved his fingers lower, sweeping down the length of her neck and far beyond.

  He caressed her in places that made the breath lock inside her throat, all the while whispering Seryn in her ear. Though she couldn’t interpret the murmurings, they seemed more scandalous than before, which only served to quicken her racing pulse.

  The longer it went on, the tighter her muscles coiled. Soon Lyra could barely hear him over the choppy pull
of air into her lungs. Her heels dug into the mattress, but for what, she didn’t understand. A heavy tension was building inside her, heightening to a nearly painful intensity. Just when she thought she couldn’t bear it another second, the pressure broke into the sweetest release she’d ever known—a set of involuntary tremors, like a convulsion from deep within her belly. Her lips parted in a strangled cry until the quaking ceased and she drifted back down.

  Dazed, she caught her breath and wondered what had just happened. Whatever that was, she wanted more of it.

  She gazed at Kai, awed by the way he knew her body better than she did. Still drugged by bliss, she spoke without thinking. “You’ve done this before.”

  The words sounded like an accusation, and she regretted them at once.

  Her face heated with embarrassment. Of course he had done this before. Kai was in his twenty-first year. He’d attended military academy and had toured in the last war. He was handsome and strong and turned nearly every girl’s head within his father’s estate. Unlike her, he hadn’t been sheltered all his life inside the walls of an impenetrable compound.

  Surely he had done this many times . . . with many girls.

  Kai didn’t deny it. He stared at her, frozen and wide-eyed, clearly grappling for the right response.

  “I’m sorry,” Lyra said. “It’s none of my concern.”

  But despite her dismissal, she couldn’t stop jealousy from twisting her stomach when she imagined who else had shared Kai’s bed. Was it the pretty seamstress who’d hemmed his tunic yesterday? The shapely young cook who had severed their supper? Her own round-faced ladies’ maid—the one who adored the color of his eyes? Had he loved any of those girls? Was he thinking of them while he was touching her?

  Lyra tried shoving down the negative emotions. She had no right to judge Kai for what he had done before they’d met—if anything, she should feel grateful to the women who’d made him so skilled. Besides, she barely knew him, so why should she care about his past?

  But she couldn’t help it. She cared.

  “It’s true,” he admitted softly. “There have been others.”