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Pathfinder's Way(93)
Author: T.A. White

She did it again and again, adding a slight twist to her hips. That felt really good.

He let her set the pace for a moment before rolling her onto her back and pinning her hands beside her head.

“I decide when to finish this,” he growled.

She didn’t think she could take much more and whimpered.

His hips thrust came faster and faster. She was almost there. Almost.

“Look at me,” he ordered.

Her eyes opened to stare into his fierce ones. The moment became all the more intimate. She felt as if he could see into her soul. She wanted to hide but couldn’t. His gaze held her spell bound.

He reached between them and rubbed her clitoris. Every nerve in her body drew tight and then exploded as her vagina gripped his cock with rhythmic pulses. He thrust harder and faster as she reached her finish, his own building.

She wrapped her arms around his back and held on as he found his own release. His eyes drilled into hers as he thrust once and then twice more, spending himself.

“You are mine.”

Shea started to turn, breaking the gaze. He caught her chin forcing her eyes back to his. Whatever he saw there must have pleased him. He dropped a kiss on her mouth and pulled out, then rolled over. She could hear him rummaging through bags.

He lay back down and settled her head on his chest before spreading a blanket over the both of them. His arms were warm around him and, as she drifted off to sleep, his words kept repeating in her head. ‘You are mine’.

She very much feared he was right.

 

 

Chapter Twenty One

 

 

The pillow under her cheek was firm and lumpy. Shea rubbed her cheek against it and opened her eyes to see a smooth chest. Shea went very still for a long moment. When Fallon’s arms did nothing but tighten slightly before relaxing again, she lifted her head to look at his sleeping face.

It was relaxed with a softness she’d never seen on him before. When he was awake, the force of his personality animated every feature. This wasn’t the warlord but simply a man.

When he woke, he’d go back to being a leader, and Shea’s enemy.

She dropped a light kiss on his chest before gently extricating herself from his arms, making sure to cover him again with the blanket.

She shivered in the predawn air as she quietly pulled her clothes on. The moon had set but the sun hadn’t quite risen high enough to relieve the black.

Finished tying her shoes, she stood and, for a long moment, looked down at Fallon. A big part of her wanted to crawl back into his arms and wait for him to wake her once the sun had risen.

But that wasn’t who she was. It was best to hurry back to camp and pretend this never happened. It’d be difficult. Fallon didn’t seem like the kind of man who took rejection well.

She pondered that thought as she headed back to the camp. Managing others wasn’t exactly her strong suit.

 

 

Caden watched the woman disappear into the darkness from his seat next to the cold campfire.

“She’s more stubborn than I thought,” he told the still figure on the ground. “Not too bright, if she thinks this will be the end of it though.”

Fallon sat up, the blanket sliding to his lap, and stared in the direction Shea had disappeared.

He’d woken as soon as she started moving but feigned sleep to see what she would do. As usual, she had surprised him.

He’d won the battle, not the war. A slight smile stole across his lips. He so enjoyed a challenge.

“Continue with the previous plan,” Fallon ordered. “If she wants to be a guard, treat her like a guard.”

 

 

“Your duties from now on are to attend to the warlord’s needs. You’re to be by his side whenever he needs you. You’ll sleep in his tent on a pallet in case he has a task for you in the middle of the night. The only times you’re to be away from him is for an hour in the morning and an hour in the evening when you’ll attend a special course of training or if he sends you on an errand.” Trenton shoved a pile of clothes into Shea’s arms. “These are your uniforms. It is your responsibility to keep them clean and orderly. Ask one of the guards if you have any questions.”

Basically, Shea was to be at Fallon’s beck and call. She was so good at taking orders, too. She’d be dead in a week. If Fallon didn’t kill her, the other guards just might.

Maybe she was being too pessimistic. She thought she’d been making progress in her people skills with Eamon. If she kept those in mind, she might survive. Maybe. She just needed to keep her mouth closed and not insult anyone.

She was already wearing the same uniform she’d seen the other guard’s wear. By the feel of the clothes in her arms, she figured she’d been given three spares. That was better than what she’d had as a scout.

She hoped whatever had possessed her last night was well and truly gone because from now on she was treating Fallon as an enemy captor. Someone she had to show respect if she wanted to live, but not someone you shared your body with.

“You’d better get to work now,” Trenton said. “He’ll be expecting breakfast shortly.”

“Uh, right.”

She stored her gear and grabbed a warm biscuit from one of the cooks. Shea tugged at her uniform one last time as she stared at the entrance to Fallon’s quarters. She ignored the examining look the guard was giving her.

She could do this. She could. She’d just go in there, figure out what Fallon wanted to eat and get it for him. This was nothing. It would be like every other morning for the past few weeks.

“Food won’t serve itself.”

Shea looked sharply at the guard. He stared back in challenge.

“A word of friendly advice, the warlord doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

He scoffed. “Don’t just keep it in mind. When he’s in a mood, everybody suffers. We don’t need to suffer because you can’t do your job.”

His tone wasn’t hostile. At least not totally. It was more that he was giving it to her straight, with no regard to feelings or dancing around the issue.

It had the welcome effect of quelling some of Shea’s nerves. His way of talking was something Shea was familiar with.

“I understand.”

“If you understood, you’d quit flapping your gums and get your ass inside to attend to your warlord.”

Shea sighed inwardly. Yup. This was familiar.

She kept what she might’ve said to herself and walked into the tent.

It appeared empty at first glance. The table had an assortment of food, enough to feed Shea’s entire squad for days. Warm biscuits, sweet pastries, wild berries, thinly cut ham and several types of cheeses gave off a tantalizing aroma that set Shea’s mouth to watering. That biscuit she had gobbled down was a faint memory in the face of this feast.

The one thing missing was Fallon. Shea moved further into the room, not seeing him anywhere. He couldn’t still be at last night’s campsite. Though dawn was barely gone, Fallon didn’t strike Shea as the type to sleep in.

The guard had indicated he was here as well.

Slowly, her eyes were drawn to the partition that hid his sleeping quarters.

She rolled her eyes up at the ceiling, questioning her luck. Procrastinating wouldn’t help and would only delay the inevitable. Might as well get it over with.

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