Thanks for being patient, it's surprisingly difficult to write erotica with a house full of other people.
**Heads up readers, this chapter includes a m/m NC scene. If it's not your kink, skip to the last paragraph after the marked point of view change.**
Chapter 4
Merci
I try to rinse myself clean with cold water in the bath. Somehow I'm even brave enough to side my fingers into my channel, explore the soreness Devlin created. Morbid fascination has me examining the milky fluid, tinged pink. I breathe through stomach cramps. Cup water and try to rinse my mouth until I can't taste him.
The house is so quiet when I escape the bath.
Everyone is asleep—even Netta. I know because I risk a glance into their chambers and spot her curled in that creature's arms. The grip she has on him...it makes my stomach sink.
I knew the front door was locked. The other Sveril had made a show of it.
However, there was a back door. And windows.
Through the kitchen is a little hall, one that held their mother's chambers, and then somewhere a door she'd left through when we arrived.
I've got to go back to the room to hunt for my things. I don't think I breathe as I search for my coat. Devlin's asleep. His chest rises and falls evenly. His face is almost younger. Beautifully carved with sensual lips. Like one of those mythical creatures in the fairy books. The creature has a stunning body, one I was almost enjoying until—until he broke his word.
Indecision has me frozen in the dim room. If I leave, I'll have to fend for myself. No Netta. If I stay, he's going to make my head fuzzy and break his word. I don't want a babe. Not yet. The women in the market might not tell me much of their marriages, but I've heard my fill of childbirth stories. It's enough that a chill shoots down my core.
After dressing and wrapping myself in my coat, I tip-toed to the back of the house with my boots in hand. It's late afternoon. If I move quickly, I can get home before night. As long as I can find my way back to the main street we came in on, I'm confident I can escape.
When I find the back door, I find a simple latch, no key needed, and ease it open.
It's cool, overcast, and at odds with our nearest town. In Whiting the streets would be full. The air crowded with voices. All I hear now is birdsong.
The back door leads to an alleyway between rows of houses. If I make two lefts it should take me to the main street, then I'll be on my way.
My path grows narrow. A woodpile dominates my right side and the left is crowded with barrels. An awning eventually shadows the street ahead of me, making the weak winter light dim.
When I'm ten paces into the dark, a door opens to my left and a pair of Sverils tumble out. It's clear they're drunk. One laughs and the other stumbles before straightening himself. The former stills and grips his friend. He's shorter than Devlin, darker skinned, but his hair is a light brown, braided away from his face. His friend spots me and steps closer. Squared jaw and bloodshot amber cat eyes greet me.
"You're new around here." He's thicker, dark eyed with fair—or at least paler skin—than the other Sverils I've met so far. His hair is cropped short making the point of his ears alarmingly clear.
I tell them, "I--I'm just taking in some air."
The darker one steps closer, forcing my back to the wood pile. His face is rounder, eyes a deep brown. A foreign reek of alcohol invades my senses. "Who let you out?"
"My—Devlin." I'm not sure if they'll take me back or if they even know him, but it's all I can offer. "His house is just down the way."
The fair one says, "Oh, I know Devlin. Are you his female?"
I swallow, then nod.
The pair exchange a look.
"I can hardly smell him on you. Are you sure about that?" The fair one places and arm above my head and leans in too close. "I can't smell him where it counts, anyway."
"Smell?"
"Her heat though," the other's boots nudges my own. "That's ripe."
"You need to be bred, don't you?" Hands pluck at my coat, popping my buttons. "Is that why you're out wandering. Our old friend couldn't bed you properly?"
"Stop." I try to push past them, but I'm caged in. One snakes a hand under my coat, pulling my hips to his. "Get off me!"
The dark haired one grabs my hair by the root, giving me a hard shake. He hisses, "Shut up!"
A hand crawls up my throat, squeezes. "You're gonna spread those legs and take what we've got."
"No, please. Devlin will be angry."
"That's what I'm counting on." The dark haired one's lips are on near my ear. He slants his head, brushing my cheek. Then he licks me.
I wince and try to pull away but my scalp flares with pain. He laughs, then makes for my neck, sucking and nibbling the spot where my pulse races. I can't keep track of hands, but another is wrapped around my backside, kneading my behind.
My coat is free, pulled from my shoulders. My heart is hamming in my ears. The dark haired one works his way up to my war, licks the curve of it and chuckles. There's a hand between my legs, pressing my skirts harshly into my tender flesh. "I'm gonna fuck a cuckoo into this cunt and he can deal with it later."
My knees go weak. Somehow this helps me slide free from their hold before I try to scrabble under their arms, out of their grasp, but a boot comes up into my gut. I gasp as my wind races out of me.
The fair one sneers at me. "Knox, get her arms."
There are fingers ripping at my hair, twisting my arms behind my back as I'm dragging from the ground and thrown face first onto the flat end of a barrel.
"Gimmie your knife, I wanna see those tits."
They try to swap grips on my arms. There's more shuffling in the gravel. Once I feel their hands relax, I drop to the ground again only to be lifted by my hair. "Listen, either you hold the fuck still or I'm going to put this knife into your spine."
I start to cry when something hard presses into my back.
"Good girl, no screaming." Then the dark one, Knox, starts hacking at my gown until it's in pieces framing my chest.
Knox's hand cups my breast. It's like fire compared to the chilled air but his ringers are rough. "Nice."