“Daydreaming?” he asked, his sharp gaze sweeping from her head to her feet.
She shifted, not wanting to acknowledge the sensual darkening of his eyes.
You will not toy with me this way, Roarke. I will not stand by while you tell me you don’t want me and then look at me like you wish to ravish me. “No, I was thinking of all the duties I have to fulfill. Not only here to assist Noele, but as Braedon’s wife and Queen of Greenbriar.” His gaze lingered for a few seconds, then he turned away and looked down at the journal on the desk.
“Come here, then. There are accounts that need settling. You will be managing accounts of your own soon enough.”
He’d brushed her comment aside as if it meant nothing to him. Folly to think he would be bothered by thoughts of her marrying another man. She approached the desk and Roarke stood, pulling over a chair for her to sit. She retracted her wings and tried to position herself as far away from him as possible. His scent, so like the earthy smell of the forest she loved, permeated the room.
Attempting to concentrate on the books, her mind kept wandering. First, to the crisp, dark hairs on his forearm, then the way his shirt bunched up around his muscled biceps. She glanced down at her arm next to his, marveling at how much bigger he was than her.
“You must account for the number of sheep, geese, and chickens bought, marking them in the ledger in this column. Then, as they are butchered or sold, you track them here.” They spent the entire morning going over the accounts. By the time they had finished, Solara was miserable. She had watched every movement he made, breathed him in until his scent became a part of her, and wished with all her heart that once, just once, he would have touched her.
It did not matter how far away she was, or whom she was wed to. Her heart, her body, her very soul would belong to Roarke.
“You learn quickly,” he said, turning in his chair until his knee brushed against her thigh.
Forcing the melancholy aside, she nodded. “I have had some experience in managing things. Our parents taught us much of what we would need to know.”
“But there is more you have yet to learn.”
She gazed up at the sound of his husky voice, his heated gaze causing her pulse to race. What did he mean? “What is it that I have yet to learn?”
“Running a keep, tending to the gardens, dealing with the various arguments and requests from the villagers.”
“Oh.” Of course he meant her duties as queen. How silly of her to think he would suggest she needed instruction in more passionate pursuits. Or that he would be the one to teach her. Although the thought of exactly what type of training he could provide had her body flushing with heat.
“And what did you think I meant?”
“Nothing.” She stood and pushed back from the chair, circling around the desk to put some space between them. “Are we finished here?”
“In here, yes. Next we will have our meal, and after that meet with some of the villagers who have complaints and concerns.”
She nodded, following him into the hall. During the meal, Roarke ignored her, sitting with some of the guards. She ate alone, since Elise and Mina were having their meal in Noele’s room.
Which left her with nothing to do except watch him. With his men, Roarke laughed easily, smiled often, his booming voice echoing down the table and surrounding her, making her tremble with the desire to hear the husky tones whispered in her ear in the darkness.
After the meal, they took their seats at two large chairs normally reserved for Garick and Noele. It felt strange to be sitting with Roarke in chairs made for the king and queen of the castle. Almost comfortable, expected.
They spent the better part of the rest of the day solving disputes, granting requests and meting out disciplinary action to the villagers. Solara found Roarke to be diplomatic, stern, but also fair. She did not object to any of his edicts, and would have made the same recommendations had she been asked.
Which she hadn’t. She laced her fingers together, contemplating strangling the man who did not once seek out her counsel on any of the affairs. By the time the hall emptied she was seething.
“Will that be all, my king?” she asked, not even trying to keep the sarcasm from her voice.
He turned and narrowed his eyes at her. “I am not your king.” Hands on hips, she faced him squarely. “You certainly acted as if I were nothing more than a servant at your feet. Not once did you ask my opinion of any dispute or request.”
“Have you suddenly gone mute?”
“Obviously not.”
“Did you disagree with anything I said or did?”
“Well, no.”
“Then you have no reason to complain. If you had objections, you could have spoken up.”
“’Tis not how it should work.”
Mirth caused the gold flecks in his eyes to sparkle as if the sun shone directly on his face. “I see. And how should it work?”
“There should be discussion, compromise if necessary. But the king and the queen should discuss all matters relating to the inhabitants of their lands and come to a mutual agreement.”
“Hmm, perhaps you are right. I shall keep that suggestion forefront in my mind for the next time we hold court together.”
Which would hopefully be never. If she had to sit through another one of these episodes with him, she
would
strangle him. “Will that be all?”
“Here, yes. But now you will accompany me to the falconry.” It was already near dusk, and they had been working steadily since early morning. She could swear he was deliberately trying to exhaust her. “Why?”
“To tend to the birds there, of course. It is your job to oversee their care, make sure they receive the food and medicines necessary. While you will not perform these functions yourself, you will need to be aware what must be done so the birds are in prime hunting condition.”
“Noele did not mention anything about the falconry.”
“I am certain Noele was in no condition to explain every minute detail that goes into running a castle, especially in her condition. You will simply have to trust that I know what you need to learn.” She followed him out of the hall and across the courtyard, convinced that Roarke knew absolutely nothing about what she needed.
With a quick intake of breath she inhaled the fresh air, hoping it would clear her mind. Roarke’s quick step was difficult to keep up with and she had to hurry along, not even able to take time to speak to Elise and Mina who waved at her from the entrance to the gardens.
They entered the falconry and observed the caretaker of the birds feeding one of Garick’s most-prized gyrfalcons. A small chicken was brought into the open yard and the jesses on the gyr were released, allowing it to hunt and capture its prey.
Solara watched in fascination at the voracious appetite of the huge bird.
“They eat a lot, don’t they?” she asked Roarke.
“Aye.” He slipped on a leathered glove and held out his arm, letting loose a whistle that had the gyrfalcon instantly flying to him and settling upon the glove. He grabbed hold of the jesses. Solara followed him inside the mews, watching as he returned the falcon to its perch.
“Such beautiful creatures.” Falconry was not practiced in D’Naath, and she had never ventured forth into the area where they were kept here in Winterland. This was her first opportunity to view the gyrfalcons and peregrines housed here.
“They are. Even more magnificent to watch them hunt out in the open fields and streams.”
“I should like to see that some day,” she murmured, her gaze transfixed on the gyrfalcon’s actions.
“Perhaps you will have an opportunity to do so after you marry Braedon.” At the mention of Braedon’s name, she looked up, surprised to find she and Roarke were alone.
“Perhaps I will. I am certain he will be more than willing to teach me anything I’d like to know.” Dusky shadows fell over the dwelling, Roarke’s face half-hidden in the murky light. He approached her, and she moved back a step.
“You are anxious for him to teach you?” he asked, his voice lowering to nearly a whisper.
“Aye, there is much I need to learn.”
Roarke advanced another step and she retreated two, only to be halted by the rear wall of the falconry.
Even the birds were quiet, lending a deafening silence to the ever-shrinking room.
“Tell me, Solara, what will you be asking Braedon to teach you?” He was so close that if she inhaled strongly, the tips of her nipples would brush against the leather of his shirt.
“He will teach me things that I do not know.”
“Such as?”
His nearness drove her mad. She could reach out and touch his broad chest, run her fingers through his long hair and capture the lips that had taunted her dreams for the past days. Trying to find her voice, she answered his question. “Such as how things are between a man and a woman.” Now his face was visible as he leaned over. She hid her arms behind her back, curling her fingers into her palms to keep from touching him.
“You are curious about sex, aren’t you?”
“Aye. You should know that.”
He laughed, a husky whisper that sent jolts of pleasure to her dampening pussy. Tension coiled deep in her belly. The air in the room seemed to thicken and she found it hard to breathe.
“Your curiosity is enticing. Any man would be more than happy to teach you the fine art of lovemaking, Solara.”
Any man but him. She lifted her chin and said, “I look forward to it.” She teased him, she knew, but could not help herself. The language of his body spoke more of his feelings than any of his words to the contrary. He wanted her. She felt his desire everywhere as if he’d draped her in a blanket of his arousal. His breath came in short gasps, the same as hers. Did his heart race erratically as hers did?
Unable to hold back, she laid her palm on his chest, rewarded with his heartbeat thumping rapidly against her hand. A pulse pounded in his neck, calling to her. She wanted to lick that spot where his life’s blood flowed, then nibble until he threw her down on the straw-laden floor and made love to her.
But he wouldn’t. He would not touch her, and she knew that.
“Do not be so certain that you know what I will or will not do, my faerie,” he responded.
He’d heard her thoughts. She’d let her guard down and he’d reached inside her mind. How easily he threw her off balance, made her forget to be wary. Had he not hurt her enough the other night? “You confuse me, Roarke. I do not know what you want.”
“I know exactly what I want. Do you think it easy for me to see you every day, wanting you so much it takes my breath away, but knowing you are not mine to have?” She closed her eyes, her heart soaring at his revelation. Was it possible to be so happy and yet so distraught at the same time?
“What are we to do, then?”
His hands encircled her waist, drawing her against him. “I know what we cannot do, but there are many things we can. You are a fire in my blood, Solara. I burn for you. Feel my flame.” He reached for her hand and placed it over his rigid cock. She gasped at the fierce heat emanating from his shaft.
Roarke tilted his head back and groaned. “Ah, yes. Your touch ignites me, faerie. I have a desire to feel your pussy under my hand, to dip my fingers in your sweet nectar and lick it from my fingers. Would you like that?”
She could not find the words to tell him, to beg him to do just that. She could only stare and nod, her throat too dry to voice a response.
His erection brushed against her thigh as he leaned in, licking the seam of her lips with his tongue. The dragon blew fire against her already heated mouth. “Open for me, Solara. Let me in.” Without hesitation she gave him her mouth. He slid his tongue inside, crushing her against his chest and winding his arms around her.
His tongue danced devilishly against hers, teasing, enticing, stealing what little breath she had left. She reached for his hair, tangling her fingers in the silken depths and tugging him closer. Her erect nipples brushed against worn leather and she whimpered, needing so much more than merely touching him.
“I know what you need, my princess.” Roarke trailed kisses along her jaw and down her throat, licking along her collarbone and just below. She stood on her toes as if the very act of doing so would align her aching breasts with his mouth.
But he continued to tease her, swirling his tongue just above the swell of her breasts. His hands moved over her waist, then her hips, before traveling to her buttocks. He squeezed the twin globes there, then raised his head, crushed his mouth to hers and lifted her off the ground.
She wrapped her legs around his waist and he pushed her back against the wall of the falconry, rocking his erection against her pussy.
“Roarke, please,” she cried, raining kisses along his throat, finally licking at that spot where his pulse pounded erratically against his neck.
“What do you seek, Solara? Tell me what you want.” Read my mind. You know my thoughts. You know my needs.
Aye, but I want to hear it. Talk to me, faerie. Tell me what you desire.
I need release. I want you to make love to me. I want your thick cock buried deep inside me. Please, Roarke.
In response, he muttered a curse and set her down until her feet touched the ground, then tore open her shift, baring her breasts. He covered them with his hands, finding her sensitive nipples and plucking them until they stood hard and needy. He bent over her, licking first one tip, then the other, until she could not think, could not breathe, could not do anything but experience the glorious sensations catapulting through her.
She reached for him, desperately needing to feel him in her hands.
“Not yet, faerie. Right now we will see to
your
needs.”
Before she could utter a protest, he turned her around so her back rested against his chest. His fingers grazed her thighs as he raised her shift and gently slid his palm over the curls of her sex. He unlaced his breeches, his hot, hard cock pressing against her buttocks.
Despite his heavy breathing and the rigid length of his shaft thrusting between the globes of her rear, he was surprisingly gentle in his quest of her pussy. He lightly trailed his fingers over the swollen lips of her sex, slipping his fingers between the folds and finding the nub. With fingers moistened from the juices of her arousal, he circled her clit in relentless pursuit of her release.