1 comments/ 6048 views/ 3 favorites Anya Surprised By: TJSkywind Location: Sharaton-Charlottesville, Kingdom of Tildor Date: June 21, 2101 Novella length; tale is complete. There is some sex at the beginning and at the end. The sex at the beginning borders on non-consent from an unexpected source, and the bulk of the story is how she copes with what happens. All individuals particing in sex in this story are over eighteen. With a hearty thank you to gyfurune for his able assistance! * * * * * * * Chapter 1 * * * * * * * "She's going to participate in the Solstice celebration? Huh!" Captain Jannon Fisher turned his chair and stared out from his second-story window, watching the holiday crowds bustle along Snapdragon Street. Some went east to the nearby markets, but most headed west to the festivities. "When did you find out?" "Just a little bit ago." Jaima Starshine, Lieutenant of the Household Guard, watched her captain sympathetically. His voice was calm, but Jaima wasn't fooled. Brown hair, brown eyes, clean-shaven, and middling height, he easily passed as average, even forgettable, but that blending into the background was deliberate. Often the most effective guard is the one you didn't see. When he gave orders, people obeyed, and when there was trouble, there was no mistaking his authority. Jannon had command presence. Yet when the situation called for stealth, she had seen him be unobtrusive, or when necessary, fast and lethal. She knew he was older than the thirty years he looked, but she was not sure just how many had been erased by magic. Jaima continued her report. "At first, Her Ladyship wanted to go alone, but I convinced her it wasn't a good idea. Sometimes the foreigners don't take 'no' for an answer. Chanli Carpenter is going with her." Jannon jumped up, turning on her. "Chanli! She's militia, with only a year's worth of decent training. It's Summer Solstice in the capital and the biggest holiday of the year! All the vermin in the city will be out!" "If she wasn't qualified, you wouldn't have hired her. She might lose her wallet, but she will protect the sin-Duchess, the heir apparent, with her life." Jaima was unfazed by either his glare or his outburst. "I think Her Ladyship suspects you intimidated the last few men she was interested in." "I did not." "You did so! I was there when you delivered her gift to the last one, remember? Polite, you were. Then you shattered the statue in his foyer with a single strike of your hand. 'I would take a dim view of anyone who hurt this woman.' The man pissed his pants!" "So he did." A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, ruining his bluster. "You're sure she's going to wear the dress?" "I saw her pull it from the storage chest myself." Jannon moved back to his desk and put away the log books, scowling. "I can't protect her if she won't tell me where she's going. Thank you, Lieutenant. That will be all." He looked up when she didn't leave, his eyebrows raised. "Captain . . . Jannon, why don't you tell her how you feel?" "What are you talking about?" "For the past year you two have been fighting a lot. And not just the kind of squabbles that sometimes happen between friends, either. At least, it's not that way anymore. It's getting tiresome having to tiptoe around here. I'm not the only one who's noticed, either. I've served with you for seven years now, and we've survived some pretty tight situations. That trip to the catacombs still makes me cold to my bones, and you brushed it off like it was nothing. But when it comes to telling her your feelings, you hesitate. Why? You love her. Tell her how you feel!" "It's not that simple." "Why not? Because she's Duke Thorband's daughter? Because she's a mage? Titles be damned. Underneath, she's a woman and you are a man. She deserves to know how you feel." Jannon stared at her. "All right," he said at last. "I'll talk to her. Tell Chanli our discussion may take a while, so if Lady Anya doesn't show up right away, not to come looking for her, but to be available when she calls." * * * * * * * Chapter 2 * * * * * * * Sharaton-Charlottesville. Twin bustling cities separated by Lucky Man River, a northward flowing lazy waterway spanned numerous times by wide bridges before it joined the much larger Crescent River just as it turned east toward the ocean. The cities were founded in 2020 by Prince Caernach Moramorian and his two wives, Shara and Charlotte. The small homestead was transformed when the two women were declared saints by their goddess and Lawgiver, Rena. Once, far to the north, far beyond the Skyreach Mountains lived thousands of nomadic Ba'lorians – the people of dalendan Bannan Lorrie or the sacred Earth Mother. They gathered at the summons of their Lawgiver, and in a great migration lasting a year, headed south. That these same thousands arrived within days of the main house being completed was taken as part of the wisdom of their goddess. The chiefs of the Great Houses pledged their fealty to House Moramorian, marked out pastures for their herds, tilled new farms, and filled the new cities of Sharaton and Charlottesville with artisans and workers. Within twenty years, other cities were as enthusiastically hewn from the wilderness. Ramez and Crystal Tide to the northeast within the Duchy of Atansha, Rondar and Barter Town in the Duchy of Beyjure Keen toward the center. Dragon Keep in the Principality of Brotava to the northwest. Goodfellow Keep and City of the Suns in the Duchy of Biyandi. Southeast, on the mouth of the Crescent, emptying into the Great Eastern Ocean, was Portsmouth in the Duchy of Zashandi. Tildor became a vigorous young kingdom carved out of the wilderness, and Sharaton-Charlottesville its bustling capital. The Ba'lorians built huge temple compounds in Charlottesville, mini-cities in themselves, dedicated to the four members of the holy family. Rena, wind goddess and Lawgiver, whom they venerated most, was given a simple open-air stone-covered pavilion. Her father, Auros, master of time, had a small shrine adjacent. To Li Var Dayanna, earth goddess and Rena's mother, and also to Rena's younger brother, Osh Mayan, god of waters, fertility, and healing, they dedicated huge sprawling structures. The Laws commanded respect for the Earth Mother, and Her people obeyed. The Temple of Osh Mayan oversaw the Rites of Adulthood, provided sexual services for a nominal fee, and were known as dedicated healers of mind, body, and spirit. As the years passed, the nation of Tildor thrived. Attracted by the wealth and vitality, Hellenic and Kemetic immigrants from the distant, western Caloren States, and Celts from the southern wilderlands trickled in for their share. A mutual defense treaty was reached with Woodhaven, their nearest neighbor and home of the sylvan elves. For many years, caravans plied the Royal Roads, bringing the kingdom ever greater growth and prosperity. Herds and farms flourished, and after the second decade, crafts and arts and then precious metals were to be found in abundance. In the second year of the twenty-second century, the combined population of the capital totaled nearly a hundred thousand, most of whom were human. Throughout the year, the temples of Osh Mayan provided healing and sexual services in return for donations. 'Temple-born' children resulting from these unions were legitimate, both by custom and law, each child adding to the House Rolls of their mother's clan. Summer solstice was the biggest holiday, with ten days of festivities dedicated to the event. The foreigners in the city all had their own solstice celebrations – the Kemetics with the Bull of Abydos and festival of Osiris, the Hellenes with the festival of Demeter and the Bacchanale, and the Celts with their bonfires, their singing and dancing. The Ba'lorians honored their earth goddess for Her role as provider and as the epitome of motherhood. It was also a chance to pay homage to the male principle as the source of maternity. During summer solstice, a woman interested in childbearing did not have to go to the Son's temple. Rather, by tradition, she wore a bright blue dress and a wide red sash to display her sexual availability. Those not interested in such activities avoided wearing blue dresses during the festival or risked being accosted by males attracted by the garb. Men who enjoyed these liaisons were on their honor to make a donation afterward to the temple. Most did, for it was considered bad luck to slight the gods. The woman always had the right to refuse coupling with anyone or under any circumstances she didn't like. No meant no. The law was very strict on that. Rape under Ba'lorian law, unless the victim chose otherwise, carried a death sentence, and it was rare for the clanswomen, who enforced the law, to settle for less. Ten years earlier, in an effort to reduce the incidence of rape, especially from foreigners who didn't understand the solstice customs or the law, Queen Dorothy had limited the sexual festivities to a ten-square block area in the downtown district. To reinforce the well-armed constabulary, both the army and militia supplemented the frequent patrols, and were bolstered by young priests and warrior monks from the Ba'lorian temples. The success of this change resulted in fewer assaults, and soon similar restrictions were put in place throughout the kingdom. When she was eighteen, Anya Starshine, third daughter of Duke Thorband Starshine, underwent her Rite of Adulthood. For two weeks she learned the varieties and complexities of sex, pleasuring, and how to regulate pregnancy at the temple of Osh Mayan along with the other young Ba'lorians of her age group. Survival was the second part of the Ritual. Like many other pairs, Anya and her partner, Dalyan Dawnslight, armed and supplied only with what they could carry, went into the wilderness for the next thirty days. Anya survived. Dalyan Dawnslight, her lover, did not. Shortly after her return and before her mourning was over, Anya petitioned to become her mother's arcane apprentice. Duchess Dianne Starshine, a high priestess of Rena as well as a master in the Northern Star Order of Magic, was surprised by the request. Nonetheless she accepted her daughter as apprentice. The following six years of Anya's life were intensely consumed with the long hours necessary to learning magic, for the duchess was both unstinting and demanding in her role as teacher. Just before her studies were completed, however, and against the advice of her parents, Anya put on the blue dress and red sash and spent all ten of the Solstice holidays in wild celebration. Anya's daughter, named Dalyanni after her lost lover, was born nine months later. Like Anya, the child was smooth-skinned, bronzed, blonde, with large green eyes. When her studies were completed, Anya undertook some dangerous missions for her father, Duke Thorband, ruler of Biyandi. These adventures increased her skill and understanding of magic, with the added benefit of greatly enlarging her own personal wealth. Yet within four years she began to feel restless, feeling the need to become more independent. Anya gathered up her daughter and growing personal household and set off for the capital and the royal court, ruled by her mother's older sister, Queen Dorothy. Her parents encouraged her, insisting only that she write often and that she make regular return visits with their granddaughter. On her mother's recommendation, Anya and her household traveled with a young half-elf recently married to three sisters, Tia, Tahna, and Mindal Landers. The handsome half-elf, Reison Whisper Wind, was terribly young and inexperienced, but he was obviously devoted to his new brides. Mindal, the youngest, a bard of great talent and rather famous, entertained them as they traveled. Tia, the oldest, was a high priestess to Rena and of church rank nearly equal to Duchess Dianne herself. Tahna, the remaining sister, was a warrior monk of great skill, known for bringing criminals to justice. Tia and Tahna were less well known to the general public, but both had reputations within the church for fixing difficult problems. Little Dalyanni was delighted with the trip to the capital, but even more so with Reison. At camp each night, she hovered around the young half-elf, plying him with questions until her eyes could no longer stay open. Anya tried to discourage Dalyanni's attachment, but Reison treated her daughter's attentions with respect and kindness. Halfway through their journey, the four-year-old girl boldly asked Reison to add Anya as his fourth wife so that he could become her father. Anya nearly died from embarrassment. Reison politely but firmly declined. The three sisters, for their part, reacted with great amusement, but it was a wake-up call for Anya. She realized how much a void her magical studies and adventuring had left in her little girl's life. From then on, she resolved to spend at least an hour each day of personal time with her child. A friendship blossomed between the travelers, and to their mutual delight, the Whisper Wind newlyweds found a place within a kilometer of Anya's new manor in Sharaton-Charlottesville. Both were within a short distance of the Sandhurst College of Music, the eventual goal of Reison Whisper Wind. As Dalyanni grew older, the daily time Anya spent with her successfully strengthened the bond between them. Despite this, however, Dalyanni's craving for a father only increased as the years passed. Within the past year, Reison informed Anya that her ten-year-old daughter was stopping by after school to visit him – still fixated on his parental possibilities. Compounding matters for Anya, after six years of marriage, the three sisters had several happy children, and Reison openly doted on his wives and his children. When Reison adopted the daughter of their governess, Dalyanni was ecstatic. On their next visit to the Whisper Wind household some days later, Dalyanni approached Reison for the same privilege. He generously agreed, but only if Anya was willing. For Anya, as tempting as it might have been to give her daughter the father figure she so obviously needed, the prospect was daunting. Even if Reison's full house could have added in her own household, she had no interest in being involved in a complicated marital arrangement. Multiple marriage arrangements could work and even be happy most of the time, and the Whisper Wind household itself was just such an example. It helped, though, that the three sisters had not only grown up in such a household themselves, but that they were also truly devoted to each other. Not everyone adjusted well to sharing spouses, however, and the more partners in the relationship, the more fragile it was. Complicating matters further, Tia Whisper Wind had become Anya's confidant and priest confessor. Tahna, while no longer a warrior monk, had since become a colleague with whom she pursued arcane research. Despite her friendships with the three sisters – she liked them immensely – Anya wasn't interested in becoming Reison's fourth wife. While she doubted they would treat her poorly, it would place her lowest in rank. More, she liked Reison well enough but was not attracted to him. And none of that even considered that Anya would one day inherit the Duchy of Biyandi and City of the Suns, its thriving capital. She was also unwilling to accept the other alternative, for adoption would mean Dalyanni leaving her home and moving in with the Whisper Wind family. Anya found the thought of her daughter leaving unbearable, and denied the request. Dalyanni wept for days. While Anya fretted over what to do, Captain Jannon Fisher stepped into the troubled girl's life, spending hours at a time with Dalyanni, even personally escorting her to and from school. Anya was relieved, for it also ended Dalyanni's unauthorized after-school jaunts. Soon, the hollow eyes disappeared and her constant chattering returned. Some weeks later, curious, Anya broached the matter with her daughter. "I'm fine, Mother," Dalyanni answered. "I didn't like it, but you are the parent. I understand that now." Her matter-of-fact reply pleased Anya greatly. "Besides," her ten-year-old daughter continued, "I figured out how Reison Whisper Wind can still become my Dad. When I grow up, I'll marry his son, Steve." "Dalyanni," Anya managed to choke out, "that's not a good reason to get married. Besides, it's not fair to Steve." "Why not?" "Well, there are many reasons to get married, but the best one is for love. But if you can't marry for love, at least marry someone who will be good to you and your children, and who will be a good provider." "But I do like Steve. And Mr. Whisper Wind will teach Steve how to be a good Dad." Impressed with her logic, Anya let the matter drop. Nonetheless, she later passed on the revelation to Steve's parents. It was the decent thing to do, she thought. When Dalyanni was older and if she still had plans for the Whisper Wind boy, he was going to need all the help he could get! Events of the previous winter, however, reinforced upon Anya the fragility of life, and how children were even more delicate than they often appeared. Healers, physicians, and even the awesome power of the priests to raise the dead did not always keep people from premature death, nor did it guarantee life could be restored once lost. Even for those who could afford the enormous costs charged by the temples – children, especially those younger than their fifth year, were notoriously difficult to bring back from the dead. The most recent winter had seen a series of hard storms blanket Sharaton-Charlottesville under several feet of snow. Within a week of the storm, an outbreak of Aurora Madness swept through several neighborhoods, including their own. Highly contagious and magical in nature, it wracked the victim with intense bone pain for as long as a month, while rainbow colors shimmered across their skin. Priests of sufficient experience could cure the disease, but for most, treatment was limited to keeping them hydrated and fed. Even so, it killed many, and sometimes those who survived were broken in mind, becoming either utterly passive or raving mad and dangerous. To keep the disease from spreading to other cities in the kingdom or to other nations, a quarantine spell from the Queen's Lord High Wizard nullified all travel magic within the city. All forms of magical gates, portals and the like simply ceased to function within a day's travel. When Dalyanni caught the Madness, Anya was unable to teleport her child to her mother in the City of the Suns for healing. Between the disease and the almost continuous onslaught of further snowstorms, Anya became frantic waiting for physicians and priests that never arrived. By the end of the second day of illness, Dalyanni worsened, the child's cries reduced to a constant, hoarse croaking. Anya ordered the servants to bundle up her daughter for the trip to the temple. Jannon calmly reminded her that Tia Whisper Wind was capable of curing her, and that she lived a good deal closer. While Anya followed behind, her magic protecting them from the bitter, stabbing-cold winds and blinding flurries, Jannon carried Dalyanni, paving their way through streets that were chest-deep with snow. And just that Spring, Dalyanni attended her Tenth Year training at the temple. The graduation ceremony was marred by a major earthquake that not only shook the entire city, but the entire continent as well. Thousands died in Sharaton-Charlottesville, and many more injured, including hundreds of children and their families attending temple. Once her own daughter was safe, Anya and her staff spent several days helping to rescue the trapped and injured, and then later, recovering the dead, and with clean up. When the emergency was over and her own home repaired, Anya took Dalyanni for a short visit to her parents. The rationale was to get away from the still-fresh memories of the mangled bodies. However, as they worked in her mother's extensive gardens, the duchess discreetly asked Anya what troubled her. Anya confessed her loneliness and Dalyanni's desire for a father. Anya also wanted more children, and a husband to help raise them. Her own efforts, she admitted, had failed. Anya Surprised The duchess hugged her daughter, brushed away tears of frustration, loneliness, and pride, and set about making a list of qualifying bachelors. Anya wasn't interested in a plural marriage, so that narrowed the list a bit. Even if she didn't love the man, he had to have likeable qualities so that they could at least be friends, and the man had to absolutely be good to Dalyanni. Anya was rich in her own right and heir to the duchy. Marrying more than one man had the appeal of both variety and vanity. Yet when her mother suggested that option, she demurred. She wanted a relationship, she explained, not a complicated one. Servicing two or more husbands could become very time-consuming. Her daughter, her arcane studies, and running her own household readily consumed all the hours of her day. It would be best, Anya informed her mother, if the gentleman could integrate into Anya's household. "Really? So you want a man who will be content with you as head of the House?" The Duchess nodded with amusement at the revelation. By Ba'lorian tradition, whoever was master of the family was supposed to be subservient in the bedroom. "Preferences to height, weight, color of hair and eyes? What about his penis? How long should it be? And how thick?" her mother tartly inquired. "Of course, thickness is nice," Anya admitted, turning crimson. "However, if I like the man, I don't think the other will matter as much." Her mother's eyes danced merrily. "I'm glad to see you are being sensible, though it might have been fun explaining why I had to examine so many young men and their members to your father. 'Thorband, my love, this is for our daughter,' I'd say. 'She deserves proper satisfaction from her mate. Naturally, I'll have to verify any claims myself.'" Anya giggled at the imaginary scene, and more so because if Anya had truly requested it, her mother might have actually done it! Long before she'd married Duke Thorband Starshine, the duchess had worked for several years as a sex instructor at the capital, in the temple of Osh Mayan. The duchess hugged her daughter warmly, kissing her forehead. "All right, my beloved. I'll let you know when I've found some prospective suitors." Weeks passed, with several luncheons and dinner meetings endured, all without any acceptable prospects. Anya slowly grew more disappointed and frustrated, and by the end of the month, gathered up her daughter and teleported home. Then, just two days before the summer solstice celebrations, Anya visited the Whisper Wind household. She learned that the Whisper Wind governess, Dalinda Brightburr, planned on wearing the blue dress and red sash with the aim of making a second child. An attempted foray a few weeks earlier by the governess had resulted in advances from a less than honorable wizard, and just days earlier, culminated in a fierce magical battle within the Whisper Wind home over Dalinda's freedom. While the injuries and extensive damage to the household had been easily repaired with magic, the family was concerned about Dalinda's safety. The wizard, Anya was assured, had been properly punished for his deeds, but Tia then mentioned her worry for Dalinda's forthcoming trip. On impulse, Anya volunteered to accompany the governess to the adult-only area. Delighted, Tia persuaded Dalinda to accept Anya's offer of escort. Anya promised to arrive early on the first morning of the solstice holidays. Impulse, Anya realized, was an opportunity. Arrangements were made, and Anya took Dalyanni to visit her grandparents until the celebrations were over. Two household guards went along to help keep Dalyanni out of mischief. Once home, Anya burrowed through dusty chests until she found her own dress and sash. Her decision to escort Dalinda had inspired Anya. After years of sleeping alone, she hungered for the feel of a man's embrace, having one's breasts kneaded and nipples sucked, pussy licked, and the wonderful, maddening joy of his hard desire plowing into her until they both creamed in pleasure. A husband could wait. What she wanted was to get loose and properly nailed. Anya tried to put the dress on. She ruefully learned garments that once fit enticingly could not be so easily worn by a woman of thirty. While still as slim as she once was, she was taller, at more than one and three-quarter meters, and she was wider in both her shoulders and hips. Such height and growth was to be expected. Her mother was as tall, and her father was a big man at one hundred and ninety-eight centimeters, with the weight to match. Anya gave up trying to pull the dress up. Even her breasts were larger. Some rich women paid wet-nurses to breast-feed their children. Her mother, the duchess, had insisted on feeding all her children herself. Shortly after birthing Dalyanni, a new servant had inquired whether Anya wished to hire a wet-nurse. The duchess, standing nearby, said nothing but looked so angry that the servant apologized profusely. The subject never raised again. Which was as Anya preferred it. A minor cantrip provided the necessary tailoring adjustments. The roomier dress easily passed hips and bust, settling comfortably onto her shoulders. With the heat from the three suns outside already palpable through her bedroom window, Anya selected a light-weight, wide-brimmed hat. Eschewing a full wallet, she wrapped a small purse carefully inside the sash. Some of the very wealthy went about town without any money on their person, just to prove how rich they were. Anya thought such behavior imprudent and arrogant. Dressed for wanton adventure, she posed in the full-length mirror. Throwing her shoulders back, her breasts rose, nipples hardening in anticipation. Anya looked at herself approvingly. Later, she thought, if the night became too cool, a cloak could be magically summoned from her walk-in closet without too much effort. Yes, Anya mused, this could be a really fun day! She would pick up Dalinda, and they would find a place for breakfast before strolling through some of the markets, then browse the shops, letting the suspense build. After dinner, they would head over to the adults-only area. She told herself she wasn't wholly committed yet, but if she happened to find an interesting man, she was more than willing to give him a vigorous ride, with all the necessary screaming and tearing of sheets. The potential for pleasure invoked a twitch in her sex. A final glance in her mirror proved her undoing. Memories of the solstice that made Dalyanni filled her thoughts and her damp crotch seized control. One hand rubbed her breasts and squeezed her nipples while the other snaked into her panties. Rubbing her clit furiously, Anya remembered the men and their hard cocks thrusting deep, again and again, filling her with their seed. Once, she had even taken on three men at the same time. They had mounted Anya in turn, time after time, pounding her sopping sex until it she was sticky with sweat, and covered from belly to ass and down to her knees with semen and her own fluids. When they were finally too spent for further coupling, she was barely able to move, much less walk, and her dripping pussy throbbed for days afterward. Fingers frisking faster, Anya suddenly came, gasping and shuddering. Even as her tremors faded, the masturbation and the memory of past lust only whetted her hunger for more substantial fare. Taking off her panties, she used them to wipe herself clean before tossing them at the laundry hamper. Anya straightened her dress and grinned. So what if someone sees my bare crotch? she thought. With a sense of growing expectation, Anya left her suite and bounced down the stairs. "Lady Anya." Jannon Fisher materialized from a doorway, suddenly blocking her path. "Captain Fisher." Less than thrilled, Anya halted, thrusting out her chin. "I'm going out and I will be gone all day, maybe longer. When I get back, we'll go to my parents and visit Dalyanni. Don't wait up. I may not be back for some time." She moved to go around him. "Yes, Lady," he said, cutting her off exit. "First, I'd like a few words with you." Anya pursed her lips. "Yes, Captain?" "In your office, please. Where it will be more private." "Very well! But if you're going to yell at me, I shall be very angry with you! I have a rendezvous and I don't intend to be late." Anya spun on her heels, her short dress twirling up. Jannon saw the bare cheeks and his nose twitched at the faint aroma. Frowning, he followed her. As he entered her office, Anya leaned against her desk, arms folded and her foot tapping. "Yes, Captain? What is it?" When the door was closed, he turned, hands on hips. "Where do you think you're going?" "If you're color blind, then it's none of your damn business!" Angry, she strode to the door, but he caught her wrist. "You forget yourself!" she hissed. "Let go of me this instant!" He shook his head. "I've forgotten nothing. However, you aren't going anywhere until some things get said. I am responsible for you and your daughter's safety, Anya. Where you go is my business! Go where you want, but you have to tell me first. Is that understood?" Her free hand flew up, slapping him soundly across the face. Jannon had seen it coming, her body language and raw emotion gave it away, yet he hadn't flinched. His cheek coloring from the blow, he released her. "I said, is that understood?" "Yes!" Anya rubbed her wrist, glaring. "Good. Now, where are you going?" She rolled her eyes. "Blue dress. Red sash. Solstice. Why are you being so dense?" "Men are going to pester you, wanting to couple with you." Jannon stepped close. "Of course they are! That's the point!" "You want mounting? You're pretty, Anya. Beautiful even. Long legs and golden hair. Many men will want to take you. Is that what you want? Men to take you?" He leaned closer, staring intently into her eyes. "Yes! That's what I want!" She looked up, glaring defiantly into his eyes, refusing to be bullied. "And if they put their seed inside you, you could get pregnant. Is that what you want?" "Yes, yes, and yes! I'm going to get fucked!" she yelled. Jannon suddenly gripped her shoulders. "You want a man's hard cock inside you, filling you with his seed? You truly want a child?" "Yes, damn you! I said so, didn't I?" Angry and confused by his questioning, Anya tried to shrug him off, suddenly blinking back tears. "Now let go of me!" Jannon turned her around firmly and pushed her up against her desk, his strong hands pressing her down. Her large hat fell off, bouncing to the floor. Anya looked back, her eyes wide with surprise. "Jannon! What—" He lifted the dress. Slap! Her bared butt stung. He had actually spanked her! "Be quiet! I'm going to give you what you want!" Jannon opened his trousers and pulled out his hard cock with one hand, wetting the end with spittle. The other hand pushed her firmly down onto the desk. Anya gasped when she felt his cock brush against her inner thighs. One finger probed her pussy, then two, feeling her, stretching her, preparing her. She was still slick from her masturbation. Jannon guided the head of his cock to the entrance of her pussy. A quick thrust and the crown spread her lips, lodging inside. Stunned, Anya grunted as he humped, shoving his legs between hers, forcing them wider apart. Short, hard thrusts took him deeper with each stroke. Her body adjusted to his presence, responding to the friction with more lubrication, easing his penetration. Placing both hands on her shoulders, Jannon's hips began vigorously slapping against her butt. Anya gasped from the force of the coupling, her breasts flailing about, bouncing against the desk. She grabbed the edge and held on. Her mind was awash in confused sensation. Then her clitoris hit the desktop and her head swam. With each deep drive, his crown brushed the length of her channel, touching the entrance to her womb. Stroke after stroke. Again her clitoris hit the desk and she cried out as her vision darkened. When she could see again, Jannon groaned as his hands dropped to her hips, holding her tightly as he ground against her, pushing and probing as deep as his sex could reach as pulse after pulse of semen shot into her. It had taken less than two minutes. When his grip lessened, Anya took a long breath. Worse than no coupling for years was reaching arousal when the act is suddenly over. With equal parts anger and frustration, Anya glared over her shoulder. "Are you quite done?" "Oh, no, Anya. My cock is still hard and I intend to fill you again. Now relax." It was true. She felt no diminishing softness. Surprised, she closed her eyes. The long length of him buried in her sheath filled her so exquisitely! His hands moved up to her shoulders. Anya tensed further, but his fingers dug and pushed, kneading her shoulders and back. Her passage slickened by his ejaculation and her growing wetness, Jannon began a slow, gentle stroking. Soon, his hands moved around to her front, unbuttoning her dress. She glanced down, watching his hands work. "Not much point to that, is there?" "Hush, woman." He pushed the dress off her shoulders where it bunched about her waist. Anya neither helped nor hindered him. Pulling her up, Jannon kissed her neck and nibbled her ears, all the while probing her pussy with his hard cock. His kisses turned to sucking and nipping. She felt him moving about behind. A glance back and she saw him pulling off his shirt and opening up his trousers further. Then he leaned forward, his hands first cupping then squeezing her breasts. For long minutes he caressed and kneaded, occasionally flicking and rolling her nipples. Eventually, his touches lowered to her belly, then her mons. With one hand squeezing a breast, the other reached down for her sex, gingerly grazing her outer lips before brushing her engorged clitoris. Anya bit her lip to keep from moaning in pleasure. It felt so good! But he hadn't asked first, and Anya was determined to hold that against him. Insistently, his fingers probed and stroked, sometimes in time with his thrusting. Pleasure rose and seduced her. Before she knew it, she whimpered, then whimpers became gasps, and soon she was rocking her hips, pushing back to meet his thrusts so as to take more of him inside her, grunting as he speared into her center, filling the length of her cavity. Jannon held her close as she leaned against him. Working his cock in short, quick strokes, he switched hands from breast to breast, the other busily rubbing her pleasure center. Anya's groans deepened. Gloriously delicious, she thought. Sensing her response, he increased the tempo. She dropped back to the desk, her attention focused on his penetration and his finger-play on her clitoris. Her short cries grew louder. As her climax built, she wiggled about, pushing against him, the sound of their coupling wet and noisy. Suddenly she was there. Anya sucked in a long breath and let out a deep, guttural moan, shaking with ecstasy. Jannon thrust faster, intensifying her orgasm. Having ejaculated earlier, he was able to maintain a high plateau of enjoyment. As Anya's breathing slowed, Jannon reduced his own pace, probing the length of her. "You – you didn't cum?" she asked. "No, Anya, it was your turn. Don't worry, I will fill you again. Now relax and enjoy it." She closed her eyes and dropped her head down to the desk, sighing as mild ripples of pleasure twitched through her body. Long, slow strokes were accompanied by caresses and kisses to her neck and back. Running his fingernails over her shoulder blades and the sides of her breasts brought intense tingles and sharp inhales. Jannon varied his entry, angling first one way and then another, long slow strokes followed by short quick thrusts and then pulling her hard to his hips as he shoved deep into her. All the while, his hands roamed her body, caressing, rubbing, tweaking, tantalizing. Anya responded with moans and wetness, hungry for more. Jannon deepened his thrusting, flexing his butt to give each push extra penetration. Reaching around, he cupped both breasts, squeezing them, rolling her nipples in his fingers as his cock ground into her. She groaned and whimpered, wiggling and bucking against his hardness. Anya grabbed the desk, arching her back to give him easier access. Soon, Jannon's hips began slamming into her, shaking her, her breasts rolling against the polished wood. Her own pressure building, Anya huffed in time with his vigorous pounding. A hand snaked down her hip, rubbing her mons and flicking her clitoris. When she came again, her pussy convulsing around his cock, Anya threw back her head and yelled. Then both hands gripped her hips, moving her back and forth as his cock stabbed in and out. A loud grunt and he slammed home, pushing, shoving against her as he held her firmly in place. Deep inside her, his crown rubbed the mouth of her womb, twitching and spewing forth spurt after spurt of more semen. Anya growled as she shuddered, her pussy spasming pleasurably around his throbbing member pulsing deep inside her, creaming her walls. Jannon leaned over and kissed across her back before withdrawing. She suddenly felt vacant, empty, weak. If not for the desk and him behind her, she would have slid off the desk to the floor. Her butt and thighs were damp and sticky, dripping from the mixture of lubricant and semen. Soon it would dry and then itch. Hearing him fumble around, she turned to see, then blinked, disbelieving. He was taking his boots off! Then she stared, incredulous. "You're still hard!" Stepping out of his trousers, he moved up behind her, his cock bobbing. Anya tried to stand and failed. "Jannon, I don't think my legs will take any more–" "Not a problem," he said. Draping her arm onto his shoulder, he picked her up and carried her around the desk. "We're going to do something different now anyway." Jannon set her down on the desktop, moving between her legs. She watched him, her expression unreadable. He leaned down and kissed her shoulder, caressing as he worked his way to her neck. Then he moved to the other shoulder, repeating the kisses and caresses. Gently, he cupped her large breasts, feeling their heft. They filled the palms of his hands. Jannon's thumbs moved up and flicked her nipples. Reaching down, he licked the underside of one breast, then the other, then traced the edge of each aureole with his tongue. For long minutes, he paid attention to them. Down he kissed and licked, circling her belly button, then down even further. Anya inhaled, expecting him to touch her sex, but he skirted it, teasing as he lifted a leg and worked his way down to behind her knee. Then he traveled back, licking. When he reached her apex, he blew gently on her red, puffy labia, and she sharply sucked air. Then he commenced down the other leg. As he neared her leaking center again, Jannon pulled the chair closer with his foot and sat down. Setting her legs onto the arms of the chair, he did light, tentative touches with his tongue, then settled into firmer licking. Anya closed her eyes and moaned. She could feel his seed dribbling out of her pussy. His mouth licked her clean, then began exploring her swollen, ruddy labia; then deeper into her sensitive inner lips. His hands moved up along her sides and started firmly fondling her breasts. Responding to his ministrations, she began rolling her hips under his tongue, trying to increase his contact with her clitoris. Round and round, he circled it, lower to plumb her leaking cavity, then back up again to her swollen clit. To vary the contact, sometimes he dropped down to her perineum and anus, licking and sucking all the while, before rising back to her engorged and erect nubbin of pleasure. Sometimes he brushed that burning hard center of her arousal, just before dropping down to attend her nether lips and drink her nectar. Anya's moans became whimpers. Anya Surprised "Oh, oh, oh!" she cried. Without even realizing it, her legs lifted into the air, her hands holding them apart, opening her sex to him. Jannon's oral attentions brought her higher, and putting her legs behind her elbows, her hands reached down to caress his hair and face. As her need rose yet higher, she urged him with gentle pressure to maintain clitoral contact. Responding to her excitement, one of his hands dropped down, and he pushed two fingers into her slick passage. Her moans deepened and her hips bucked while his tongue flicked and fingers probed. Building faster and faster, he lathed her slit until Anya suddenly gasped, before letting out a long, low sound. Holding him firmly, squeezing her legs around his head, pleasure, almost unendurable, washed through her, gushing from her pussy. Jannon rose up and grabbed her legs. Pushing them onto his shoulders, he fully mounted her, groin to groin, in one stroke. Anya yelped in surprise at the sudden invasion. He grabbed her shoulders and began a rapid, rough pounding into her flowing center. Shaking from the force of his thrusting, each time withdrawing until his cock lay just inside her, then with a hard, wet slap against her groin, his hardness drove deep, parting her. Anya grunted, each thrust filling her, brushing her womb. She arched her back, opening herself to him. Then, surprising herself, she came again. When her mind cleared a bit, his hands dropped to her hips. She realized he must be close. Reaching down, she dug her nails into his pistoning buttocks, pulling him tighter. One stroke, two, and then he gripped her firmly, grinding from side to side, as she felt his cock swell and spasm deep inside. Spurt after spurt filled her again, and Anya shook as a smaller orgasm washed over her. Jannon took another deep breath, slowly letting her legs down. Anya winced at how stiff they were. He started moving again, slowly, gently. Anya put both hands on his chest, shaking her head. "No. No more." He stopped, still inside of her. Anya felt not just naked, but totally revealed under his intense gaze. "You–you're the first in a long time. I'm getting sore." He caressed her cheek. Putting his hands on her face, he leaned forward to kiss her, but she turned away. He frowned. "What's the matter, Anya?" "No kiss," she said, not looking at him. "Now you're being silly." "I am not!" Her head snapped back, green eyes flashing. "No kiss! Not this way!" "Not this way? You know another way to mate? The positions change, but to produce a child, the man enters the woman and puts his seed inside her pussy." Eyes locked to hers, he leaned down until his face nearly touched her, and whispered, "Am I repulsive?" Startled, she blinked, then turned away from his gaze. "No, Jannon, you're not." "I gave you what you wanted, didn't I? You even had pleasure in it. Why not a kiss?" Anya faced him, her voice quiet. "I wanted to be taken and you took me, and yes, you gave me pleasure. But you didn't ask me first. Kisses are for lovers. We just fucked. Now let me up." Jannon looked at her searchingly, but her face was a mask of neutrality. Turning away, he nodded, and there was a sucking noise as he withdrew from her. Helping her sit up, he went to a corner table holding a pitcher and basin. Pouring water, he picked up a towel, soaked and wrung it, then handed it to Anya. She frowned, then grudgingly took it, thoroughly wiping her crotch, thighs, and belly. When she was done, he took the towel, rinsed it, and cleaned himself. He watched as she pulled up her dress and re-buttoned it, then adjusted the sash and the small coin purse within its folds. Three passes of her hands and arcane muttering, and everything about her was back in place, from the crease of her dress down to the last strand of brushed hair. A faint smell of jasmine emanated from her. As she retrieved her hat, he watched her while tucking his tunic into his trousers. Jannon cleared his throat. Anya looked at him askance, a riot of emotions within her. "What you say is true," he said, "I didn't ask you directly. Please believe me when I say I would never knowingly hurt you. You could have said no anytime and I would have stopped." He reached down and pulled on his last boot, tapping the heel to adjust the snugness. "Obviously what happened bothers you. What do you want to do about it?" "I don't know!" she snapped. "Whatever I —" Just then, the clock on the mantle chimed. Ten times. "Ten bells?" Anya swore, shaking her finger furiously at him. "I was supposed to meet Dalinda an hour ago! Until I return, you stay here! Is that clear? I don't want you chasing after me or hovering around." "Yes, my Lady." Anya flung open the door with a crash, storming into the hall. "Chanli? Chanli! Where are you?" The young, blue-eyed, blonde guardswoman hurried down the hall. "Here, Lady!" Anya held out her hand. "I am very late, and since I don't want to be any later, we're traveling by magic. Give me your hand. Come on! Don't be shy!" Chanli gulped and nodded. Anya firmly grabbed her hand, while the other moved in an arcane pattern. "Jovahn esh mish kemsa!" And they vanished with a pop in the air. * * * * * * * Chapter 3 * * * * * * * Anya and Chanli arrived on the doorstep of the Whisper Wind manor. Protective spells kept her or any other unexpected guests from appearing within the house itself. Only immediate family had the privilege of magically transporting directly into the manor. The magic required was extensive and expensive, but a process that anyone with money or power employed to keep out interlopers – or worse. Anya's mother had put similar enchantments about her own residence here in the capital. A pale Chanli struggled with the jolting after-effects of teleportation. Anya ignored her and rapped on the entrance. After a moment, a guard opened the door. Seeing her, he bowed. "Lady Anya." Anya recognized him, but couldn't recall his name. "I know I'm late, but I was unavoidable detained. Is Dalinda ready?" The guardsman shook his head. "The governess? No, Lady, she left just after nine bells. Three household guard went with her." "Oh. I see. All right. Well, is Lady Tia about?" The guard looked serious. "Forgive my presumption, Lady Anya, but I must ask, is this a life or death emergency?" Anya pursed her lips. "No, not really. Why?" "My instructions from Captain Hunter were quite clear. Life or death emergencies are the only reasons to interrupt Lady Tia, Lady Mindal, or Lord Reison today. It's just Marta, the baby, and myself minding the front door until late tonight. Everyone else is on holiday by Lady Tia's express orders. Marta and I are a poor substitute, but if you wish, Tilly the cook has left a lot of prepared food in the kitchen. I would be happy to butler for you." Anya refused to go home as there were too many questions to deal with. Nor could she go see her mother. Far too many more questions there. Tia was her priest and her friend. Right now, she needed both. Anya sighed, shaking her head. She didn't want to disturb her friend's private holiday with her husband. "No, thank you. Your offer of hospitality does your Household credit. We're not staying. Mother's Blessing to you and your family." "Thank you, Lady. May the Son of Heaven grant your own request," he grinned, nodding at her dress and sash. Anya pinked as she nodded and left, her pace brisk. Chanli hurried to catch up, wondering at her mistress's mood. Women who put on the dress and sash were usually happy, even frisky. Her mistress didn't seem to be either. In twenty minutes, they reached the fringe of the city center where the holiday marketers and street vendors were established. The avenues and boulevards were filled with people of all sorts. Rustic farmers with their early summer produce, merchants extolling wares, gawky girls, gangly boys, and agile little children wending between and about the many adults on their business, the poor beside the wealthy, most eager for the sights and not a few seeking a bit of loose coin. Street musicians busked beside knickknack makers hawking goods next to sellers of juice and ale and food. Meat on a stick. Dripping bread patties filled with beans, cheese and hot spices. A plethora of pastries and sumptuous sugar confections. Smells and noise and heat filled the air, and color was everywhere. Some grinned at Anya, and more than one man made invitation, but she ignored them. Anya still hoped to catch sight of Dalinda, but she knew it was a slim chance. The light of the three suns beat down, turning the air hot and close. If only she'd had something of the governess, she could use a tracking spell, but she did not. Only a few of the spells she knew were divinatory. After nearly two hours of brisk walking, Anya halted, thirsty. Her sudden stop startling Chanli, and they nearly collided. "Enough of this," Anya said. "Let's go find a tavern and cool off for a bit." "Yes, Lady." Chanli wiped her brow, relieved. She had hoped for a more leisurely exploration of the streets. The linen shirt under her chain armor was soaked, and the occasional breeze was insufficient to do more than tease. Given a choice, Chanli would have worn leather instead, but her lieutenant had insisted on heavier protection. Anya looked about, then seemed to notice her guard. "I'm sorry. This hasn't been a very grand assignment for you, has it? It's probably over thirty degrees cee right now. My power over the elements is rather limited, but maybe this will help." She gestured quickly, uttering a terse phrase Chanli didn't quite catch. Anya touched her on the shoulder. The weight of the heavy chain was gone. Startled, Chanli checked to make sure it was still there. "It–it's light! I don't feel it at all!" "I think that will help. It will last until tomorrow. Not as good as an ice-cold drink, but we're going to remedy that deficiency next anyway. Perhaps I should ask you for your recommendation?" "My Lady?" "It doesn't have to be fancy, just clean." "Yes, Lady." Chanli looked around. "Well, the Black Stallion is near here, but—" "But what?" Chanli looked unhappy. "It's on the other side of the barrier." Anya frowned. "And that's a problem?" The guard looked down, embarrassed. "No, Lady." "Just lead the way," she snapped. As they rounded the corner onto West Starshine Road, Anya spied a sign for a public house. Sappho's Fountain, established 2087. The sign was freshly painted. Below it was the male symbol, crossed out. Women only, Anya mused. "Stop. What about that one?" she asked, pointing. "Not a good choice, my Lady." Anya saw several women enter. "It looks reputable. And it's closer. Let's go." "No!" Chanli grabbed her arm. When Anya glared, she let go. "Please, Lady. You might get hurt." "I want something to drink, and food is starting to sound good as well. What kind of danger could I be in?" "It's women only," Chanli explained, moving to block her further. "I can see that! Now let's go!" The guard blocked her way firmly, though her eyes betrayed her uncertainty. "If they let you in, and they probably won't, like as not you'll attract the wrong kind of attention." Anya frowned. "I'm getting real tired of my guards telling me what to do and meddling in my decisions. I'm about two seconds from sending you home." "Lady, the custom is lesbian or bisexual. Your dress and sash tell everyone you're looking to mate. With men," Chanli emphasized. "Some might take it as a joke, but others might think you were looking for a fight, for sex, or maybe both. And they probably won't take 'no' for an answer." Anya stared blankly as it sank in. "I see." "May I speak freely, Lady?" "Please." "You don't really strike me that way, but if you're into the rough stuff, I might know a few places. You know. Safe words, nothing permanent." Startled, she looked at the guardswoman thoughtfully. "Maybe later. I hardly get enough of the regular action. But right now, the only thing I want inside of me is cold ale." Chanli smiled, nodding in complete understanding. "This way, my Lady." * * * * * * * Chapter 4 * * * * * * * There was a knock on the door. "Come in." Jaima entered Captain Fisher's office, carrying a tray. "I brought dinner up. The cook said you haven't been down all day." He sat in his chair, staring out the window. "Take it back." Jaima set the tray on his desk. "Roberto couldn't wait to talk about your long conversation with her Ladyship this morning. Seems he heard certain noises." Moving around the desk, she caught sight of the Purge Knife lying on the desk. Such curved blades, with their distinctive markings and red hilts, were given to young Ba'lorian women who survived their Rite of Adulthood, by close relative. Many were centuries old. The sole purpose of the knives were to ritually kill a rapist. Until then, they were stored securely, and were not displayed openly. "What are you doing with this and why is that here?" she demanded. He turned to look at her, his face calm. "Did you know I had a sister? I did. Melanie. I still miss her, Jaima. She didn't survive her Rite, so it passed to me." Jaima closed the door, pulled a chair around the desk and sat in front of him. "Jannon, look at me. Why is this Purge Knife on your desk? It doesn't have to do with the sin-Duchess, does it? Say it doesn't!" "That depends on what she decides. I don't think it'll come to that, but one never knows, do they?" "You were supposed to talk to her! Did you?" "Yes and no." Incredulity warred with fear in her face. "What the blazes does that mean? Did you tell her you love her?" "No." "But you did have sex? I mean that was practically the—" "Yes, we had sex." "Holy Mother of Rena and God's Great Blue Balls! This is so unreal! You can't tell her you love her, but you have no trouble stuffing your cock into her!" There was real hurt in her voice. Standing, she picked up the Purge Knife and shook it at him. "Jannon, she is my kinsman! If she says rape, I'm going to have to help kill you! In the traditional way!" Beaten by women of the victim's House. His name struck from the membership rolls of his own kinsmen. Castration and disembowelment. Cursed to wander as a ghost. Enraged, Jaima whirled, kicking a wooden chair so firmly it flew across the floor, crashing into a table against the wall, knocking it over. Then she kicked his desk a few times before heaving it over, scattering books, papers, and the dinner tray. Glassware and ceramics shattered with a loud crash. Jaima pounded the knife hilt against the wall a couple of times before shaking her fist at him. "Damn you, Jannon! Damn you!" Tears streamed down her face. Outside, a distant yell and the sound of boots running closer could be heard. A pause, then the door burst open. Tamaron Boatswright, sword and dagger drawn, ran in. Behind him stood Eleanor Whitestar, scanning the room, her Elven longbow drawn with arrow at the ready. Seeing no enemies, Tamaron hesitated, perplexed by Jaima's pacing and dark scowl while his captain sat calmly amongst the debris. Jaima vented with another kick to the overturned desk. Unsure, Tamaron cleared his throat. "Everything all right? We heard a noise." Jannon nodded. "Personal discussion. I think the worst is over." He paused, his eyes narrowing on the guardsman. "I thought you were supposed to be off tonight." In the doorway, the elf eased the draw on her bow and stalked off, disgruntled by the false alarm. Sheathing his weapons, Tamaron shrugged. "Lost a bet. No money, so I decided to stay close. We did have that attempted burglary last year about this time." "Very well. Please close the door on your way out." Tamaron glanced at his lieutenant, his eyes widening at the Purge Knife in her hand. Jaima glared at him, then turned away, wiping her eyes. Seeing his captain's darkening look, he snapped a salute. "Yes, sir." When they were alone again, she plunked down on the overturned desk, sniffing and rubbing her cheeks on her sleeves. "All right, rank or no rank, you talk to me! Tell me everything that happened. And I want it all." Her dark eyes were bright with pain and anger. Jannon sighed. "After you left, I went downstairs and waited to intercept her. I met her, but I wasn't prepared for the reality." He looked out the window, daylight rapidly fading to twilight. Light globes in the room were within easy reach, but neither one moved to activate one. Outside, lamp lighters worked their simple magic, turning on the street lights. "I suppose I should have just gone to her quarters after I spoke with you," he continued. "Who knows? Useless speculation now. Anyway, I told her I wanted to talk to her in private, and I refused to be put off. She was angry, but she did as I asked. God, seeing her in that dress!" Jaima shook her head. "You still don't get it, do you? Her mother is the one who can read minds, and then only under the right circumstances. Anya is just a woman. She can read the subtle cues men sometimes use, but you can be just like a wall, Jannon. She doesn't know how you really feel because you've never told her. What's worse, you made me promise not to say anything! And Lawgiver help me, I honored it." Jannon stared out the window. Jaima gestured at him. "All right, I'm done. Go on." "When she turned to go into the office, I saw she wasn't wearing underwear. Then the smell hit me." "The smell?" "When a woman is excited, ready for coupling. Yes, well, I was hard before I realized it. And I was already angry about her going places without a guard. A trip downtown is not like a visit to her parents. I would actually be comfortable with her visiting her parents without one of us along. The Duchess is a most formidable woman. Daughter of Saint Charlotte and younger sister to the Queen. A Master of the Northern Star Mages, High Priestess, and like the queen herself, a very strong psionicist – you know, those people who can do things just by thinking about them? One of the kindest and most compassionate women I've ever met, the duchess is also one of the few people I'd be really terrified of if she ever became angry with me. Anyway, I told Anya I didn't want her sneaking off without an escort. She was mad, but conceded the point." Jannon rubbed his face with his hands before continuing. "I think it was jealousy more than anything. Knowing she was going out for the purpose of getting pregnant. Knowing she wanted breeding, that she was ready for it was more than I could stand. Even if she went out afterward, I had to have her. I deliberately made her admit what she was going to do, what she wanted. Then I took her." "Did she say stop?" Jaima leaned forward, the knife in her hand gripped tightly, fearing his next words. "Yes, she did. And I stopped." Jaima exhaled with relief, then she shook her head. "Hold on. I'm confused. If you stopped when she said no, did you or didn't you mount her?" "I was getting ready for a fourth coupling when she asked me to stop." Jaima's eyes widened. "Fourth? You fucked her three times? I'm pretty sure it's been a while for her. Years at least. It's a wonder she could even walk!" Then she grinned. "She must not have been too upset if she let you cream her pussy three times. She must have leaked like a faucet!" "The point, as she reminded me afterward, was that I didn't ask. After I got her to admit what she was going to do, I told her to be quiet because I was going to give her what she wanted." "If she was as ready as you say, why didn't you ask? She might not have even gone out!" Jannon looked away, embarrassed. "We were arguing. Again. As you said this morning, it seems to be what we do these days. Sometimes I think she takes a contrary point just to fight. As angry as she was, she could very well have said no, and seeing her, smelling her readiness, the possibility of rejection was more than I could stand." He sighed. "I got what I wanted, and she got what she wanted, but I betrayed her trust in the process. And no, I didn't get around to telling her I love her."