The Pirate of Fathoms Deep (11 page)

Lesto reached out and stroked his fingers over the rings Shemal still wore.

"Oh, right, I should return these," Shemal said and pulled the rings from his finger before Lesto could say he hadn't particularly minded. He liked seeing his ring on Shemal's finger. It was true he needed the imperial ring back, but he wouldn't be needing it for much longer. He hadn't missed its presence in the slightest, and realizing that would have set his mind on retirement if he hadn't already come to that decision.

He slid the rings on his own fingers, too sated and lazy to bother getting up for something as trivial as a chain.

Shemal caught his hand as he lowered it, ran his thumb over the rings much as Lesto had a moment ago. "Are you going to be missed, staying in here?"

"They're happiest when I'm out of sight and mind, and I almost never visit this garrison anymore, anyway," Lesto said with a snort. "Even if they did need me, they'd have to manage without. Everyone with half a brain knows exactly why I locked the two of us in here and just how painfully they'll die if they interrupt us for any reason."

"I see," Shemal said with a laugh. He pressed his face against Lesto's shoulder, and Lesto could feel the soft, warm brush of his lips. "What about the mercenaries? The kidnappers?"

"The kidnappers are long gone, and I think it safe to say whatever is going on, it comes back to Treya Mencee and Lord Bestowen. By now, Sarrica has ordered everyone even remotely connected to those two groups arrested or otherwise held until he sees fit to deal with them. Anyone not already at Harkenesten is currently being dragged there one way or another. So there is nothing for us to do until we're home again."

"So it would not be completely remiss of me to take a nap and then wake up to fulfill a promise to fuck you?"

Lesto smiled, lifted a hand to curl it into Shemal's hair. "You'd be remiss not to do precisely those things. I can't remember the last time I took a nap. I certainly have never dropped everything to spend time with a lover. I'm sure that rightfully upset most of them."

"Who cares about the previous ones?" Shemal asked with a smile. "I think we both know what I'll do if you ever stop paying sufficient attention to me."

"Yes, I can guess," Lesto said. "Your ability and willingness to throw a punch is certainly a testament to your belonging here."

That got him a smile worth all the gold in Harken, and a kiss that banished any last ingrained desire to get back to work.

He settled more comfortably and fell into a doze, enjoying the distant, muted thrum of the garrison, the much closer sounds of Shemal's steady breathing beside him, the warmth and weight draped along his side.

At some point, he stirred to the sound of the door unlocking, but Rene and Sarrica were the only other two who possessed a key to his room, so Lesto didn't bother moving. There was more noise, and the smell of food stirred him faintly, but then it all faded off again, and he happily let sleep pull him back under.

When he stirred the second time, it was to deft fingers wrapped around his cock and a tongue dragging across one nipple.

"Shemal…"

Looking up, Shemal said, "I like when you say my name that way, all rough and needy, too sleepy to do anything but what you want."

"What I want is for you to get back to work," Lesto said and growled several choice words when Shemal instead withdrew.

He was somewhat mollified when he realized it was only so Shemal could slick his fingers. Lesto spread his legs gladly, reaching back to grab tightly to the bedding on either side of his head.

"This is much more fun when we're not in a hurry," Shemal murmured against his mouth before kissing him, tasting like wine and candied fruit. Someone had gotten up to enjoy a snack, and leave it to Sarrica to dig up something as hard to find in Brimin as candied fruit.

A slick finger pushed at Lesto's hole, teasing and gently pushing, pressing in so slowly Lesto could think of nothing else, could only suck and lick greedily at Shemal's mouth as he worked Lesto open.

By the time he'd gotten two fingers inside, twisting and stretching, hitting that spot and making Lesto howl, he was ready to fall apart.

Drawing back with a last kiss, Shemal slicked his cock and slowly pushed into Lesto's body. "Much, much better when I'm not as frantic as a
gishti
and still have a prison chain dangling from one ankle. Although I wouldn't mind fucking you that hard again once your leg can handle it. Bend you over a table, maybe, instead of spreading you out on the floor."

Lesto bucked his hips, took Shemal's cock deep, winning a startled a groan and a full body shudder. "Less talking, more fucking. I thought you pirates were all about action, not discussion."

Those teal eyes flashed, and Shemal wrapped his hands tightly around Lesto's hips. "You want action, Commander?" He drew back and then slammed in hard, huffing a ragged laugh when Lesto groaned. Did it again, then even faster after that, leaving Lesto overwhelmed by sensation and the force of his thrusts, helpless to do anything but tighten his hold on the bedding and submit to the pounding.

He screamed Shemal's name when he came only a short time later, was still coming down from the release when he felt Shemal's last few short, jerking thrusts before Shemal plastered to him and shuddered through his climax.

Lesto was almost ready to go right back to sleep, but the growling of his stomach was more distracting than his lethargy. When he could breathe properly again, he nudged at Shemal to get off him, then slowly sat up and slid from the bed on stiff, still faintly wobbly limbs. "Hungry? Though I suspect you already had a snack."

Shemal's cheeks flushed. "Only wine and some of the
chilri-takata
. I've never seen so much of it in one place. I almost ate all of it."

"Well, you certainly
can
eat all of it," Lesto said. "I like it, but I don't love it. Tins of candied fruit are considered a romantic gift; Sarrica probably thought he was being clever." He walked over to the table and saw the candied fruit wasn't the only effort Sarrica had made—Lesto knew for a fact his favorite wine wasn't stored anywhere on the premises, and the garrison definitely didn't cook lamb that well.

Far be it for him to complain about the perks of being the best friend of the High King.

He sat down and poured a cup of wine, then piled his plate with food. Shemal dragged the chair on the opposite end of the table over to sit close to Lesto. "This looks amazing. I'm going to be become fat and spoiled eating food like this all the time." His expression said he still couldn't believe it was a possibility.

Whatever it took, Lesto would ensure that expression was wiped away completely. He might be a fool moving too quickly, but not a single slow, careful, considered relationship had ever made him burn. The day they'd met, he and Shemal hadn't even really talked. Lesto hadn't even known his name, and their frantic encounter had lasted only minutes. But he hadn't forgotten a single scrap of those stolen moments. He'd remembered every second for a year and a half.

He'd lived long enough to know that meant something.

Shemal opened his eyes then promptly closed them again. Tried to focus on his breathing until the panic subsided.

All for nothing since it just came rushing back when he opened his eyes again and stared around the simple but opulent bed chamber. He hadn't paid much attention the previous night, more interested in falling asleep than anything else, and the palace as a whole had been distracting enough.

Today, alone in the middle of a bed bigger than some rooms he'd lived in, sprawled on a soft down mattress piled with silk and linen, it was hard not to feel like an interloper who was going to get caught any moment and thrown into the first empty dungeon cell.

Lesto was gone, but Shemal vaguely remembered a soft kiss and a murmur that he had to go, that Shemal should go back to sleep.

A pity that. Everything would be a good deal less overwhelming with Lesto present. He also wouldn't have minded waking Lesto up with a hard fuck.

Shemal was, at least in theory, an adult though. He'd manage just fine on his own, same as he always had. Probably. Shemal gave it three hours before he mortally offended someone. Hopefully, whatever he did, it wouldn't hurt Lesto.

Drawing a deep breath, Shemal let it out slowly, threw back the blankets, and slid out of bed.

A dressing robe was draped over the foot of the bed, and he assumed it was meant for him, given that another was hanging on a nearby hook, the armor stand next to it empty.

He shrugged into it and belted it closed as he slowly ventured out of the bedchamber and into the main room of the suite. There were two other doors, but Shemal couldn't remember what they were. Seeing no one around, and having nothing else to do, he tried both.

The first was another bedroom, free of dust but dark and bare of even sheets on the bed. It was somehow sad, but on the other hand, he didn't see the point in having his own bed when he could use the one that had Lesto in it.

The second door proved to be locked. Maybe an office or storage or something.

Which left him with nothing to do and nowhere to go. Food would be a good start, but he had no idea how to go about getting that.

Staying in Lesto's rooms in a dressing robe certainly wouldn't get him very far. Returning to the bedroom, he found a bowl and pitcher of water with a dish of soap nearby. Washed up, he ventured through a door that led to a dressing room, as anticipated.

And there was a pile of clothes and a note with his name on it. He could read that much Harken without problem, thankfully. Hopefully nobody would expect him to read more anytime soon.

He wasn't remotely surprised the clothes fit him almost perfectly, though he wished they weren't so fancy. He was used to homespun. The most expensive things he paid for were good boots and a warm coat.

In the end, he couldn't quite bring himself to wear all of it. He felt like he was putting on airs, pretending to be something he wasn't. The shirt and the breeches he kept, as well as the stockings and slightly too big shoes. But the ornate jacket with gold and pearl buttons, no matter how beautiful, was too much. Instead, he poked around the dressing room a bit and found a long, colorful silk and velvet wrap that he folded over twice and wore as a sash around his waist, tucking the ends into the small of his back. Hopefully Lesto wouldn't mind the borrowed wrap.

Pity he couldn't borrow some of Lesto's jewelry. He had some stunning pieces. The earrings were Shemal's favorite, from simple jewel studs to hoops and other dangling earrings of such beauty he would give anything to wear a pair for just an hour. They were far beyond Shemal's shamefully cheap, plain hoops. Did Lesto ever wear any of his jewelry? He'd only ever seen Lesto the soldier and Lesto the bedraggled hostage. Well, there was also Lesto the well-fucked. Heat curled lazily through him at the idea of Lesto in glittering jewelry and very little else. Teal was Lesto's official color, and he wore it well, but with that complexion and his gray eye… Shemal would give a lot to see him in black pearls and blood-red rubies.

Tucking those lovely thoughts away to savor later, Shemal finally left the dressing room—just as he heard the main door open and close, footsteps striding briskly toward the bedroom. Not Lesto's stride, unfortunately. Not hard enough, and it didn't jangle.

A tall, handsome woman stopped in the open doorway, sharp brown eyes sweeping the room. She startled slightly when she actually saw him then broke into a smile. "Good afternoon, my lord."

Shemal laughed. "I'm no lord."

Her smiled widened, turned a bit mischievous. "Not yet, but the palace is already buzzing about the man Commander Lesto brought home and dragged into his private chambers. Everybody thought he'd be accepting an offer from Ketherow or making one to Norring now that—" She broke off, shook her head. "My apologies, I'm starting in the middle rather than at the beginning." Stepping further into the room, she sketched a small bow, head dipping gracefully. Her hair was dark brown, but lighter than her skin, and flared out around her head. Freckles dusted her broad nose and cheeks. "My name is Bani Hashita, I am one of Lord Lesto's private secretaries. He's bid me show you around and assist you howsoever you need as you acclimate to palace life." She frowned slightly. "Were the clothes not adequate? Was there something wrong with the jacket?"

"No, the jacket was lovely. I just don't care to be weighed down by so much fabric," Shemal said. "Uh, thank you. What do you mean private secretary?"

She smiled. "I help in the handling of the Fathoms Deep Estate and related matters, rather than his military duties. He has four private secretaries and five military secretaries."

That was a lot of secretaries. "I hope I'm not causing you any problems."

She tilted her head slightly, regarded him pensively, and after a moment, that mischievous smile appeared again. Winking, she finally replied, "If you weren't here, my lord, I would be delivering papers to the tax office or getting different papers filed at the court. Believe me, you're doing me a favor."

Shemal laughed. "Well, I'm glad I'm proving useful. I don't suppose we could find food before doing anything else?"

"I can have lunch brought here, or we could go the public banquet hall," Bani replied. "Though if we go to the hall, you're in for a good deal of staring and whispering. Possibly some rude or hostile confrontations. More than a few are displeased by what your arrival, and obvious relationship with Lord Lesto, represents."

"I'm not going to begin my stay here by hiding," Shemal said with a shrug. "The confrontations will happen eventually. No point in delaying or prolonging the matter. It'll worsen with the waiting."

"As you wish." Bani smiled. "I can see why Lord Lesto likes you. This way, my lord, I'll show you some of the major parts of the palace along the way."

"Is there any point in telling you not to call me 'my lord'?" It had been strange enough when the soldiers called him 'master' and 'sir'.

"No, people made assumptions when they heard Lord Lesto had a new lover, and now they can't take it back without seeming rude. Lord Lesto also hasn't told anyone to stop, and no one is going to do anything that might possibly cross him. Many are already assuming it's only a matter of time before you'll require an honorific anyway."