Chapter 13

I

I woke up the next morning to find myself in bed with Cat. She was awake, laying on her side, with her elbow on the mattress and her hand supporting her head. Her face was glowing with a smile. I was still sleepy, and normally, I would’ve gone right back to sleep after rolling around in the bed and getting comfortable again. This wasn’t a normal situation. First of all, I was used to waking up alone in a dark room smelling of shit. Nothing about the spacious bed, the sunlight streaming through the windows, or the redheaded beauty looking at me was normal. Second, my mood wasn’t typical; I was still elated by yesterday’s victory, I’d go far enough to call it bliss. Third, and most important of all, it wasn’t everyday that one woke to a pair of bare breasts staring him in the face.

I opened my eyes, saw breasts, and was awake in less than a second. That was the long and short of it.

Cathy rolled onto her back as I crawled closer to take her left breast between my lips. It was an instinctive move, and I think Cat placing her hand behind my neck had as much to do with habit as anything else. Over the past few days, I’d gotten fond of sucking on her breasts, and she always responded to it with well-humoured amusement as well as ill-concealed pleasure. While I sucked on the hard, pointed nipple in my mouth, my hand found Cat’s other tit, which felt just as delicious. So I moved my mouth from one breast to the next. She giggled.

After sucking on the nipple to my heart’s satisfaction, then licking the area around it until it dripping with saliva, I pulled myself up so my face was level with Cat’s. She read my mind; our lips met in a searing kiss. I was returning to my ministrations on Cat’s boobs when a question distracted me. I leaned against her body, one of my hands running along her side, the other playing with her nipple, and thought.

“What is it?” Cat, puzzled by my prolonged stillness, finally asked.

“Nothing.”

She grabbed my hair and pulled on it, not hard enough to hurt but with enough force to warn.

I kissed her shoulder before answering, “promise you won’t make fun of me first.”

“I promise.”

“Why do women have breasts?”

Cat succeeded in her effort to stop outright laughter, snorting through her nose instead. I rolled my eyes, having expected a similar response, and went back to enjoying her body. I knew it’d take a while for her to stop laughing.

“It always amazes me,” she said after regaining control, “the stuff you don’t know.”

“Hmm?”

“Breasts are for feeding children.”

I stopped exploring her navel and glanced at her face. “What?”

She giggled. “When a baby is born she can’t eat normal food. Instead, the mother starts having milk in her breast. The baby can feed by sucking on the nipple.”

I shook my head in wonder. “So you’re saying, that if you were to have a baby, you’d have this ... milk in your breasts?”

She nodded.

“And the baby would drink this milk?”

“Yes.”

“What did I eat when I was that age?”

She grimaced, remembering sad memories of times gone by. “Goat milk, from the palace.”

Figures. They had treated me like an animal, what reason had they to feed me differently? But I didn’t see a reason to ruin my great mood by dwelling on it. Qoura had wronged me, and I was going to kill her for it; anything past that was immaterial.

Cat started playing with my earlobe absentmindedly, rolling the pliable flesh between her fingers and scratching the skin of my neck with the her fingernails. I responded by returning to her breast, turning my attentions to her nipple again. As a person to whom boredom came very easily, it was amazing the amount of time I could spend on such an uncomplicated activity. Yet, it seemed as if I’d never get tired of sex, or anything related to it.

I was pressing my nose against Cat’s breast and savouring the scent when the idea came. One would have to be a terrible person to do it, but I’d given up any pretense of moral superiority for a couple of days by then. The simple fact of the matter was, I couldn’t have stopped myself even if my conscious brain had had any objections, which it most certainly did not.

Therefore, I shifted on the bed, pushing myself up with my hands and knees and slinging one leg over Cat’s bed. I was straddling her stomach, with her whole attention on my sudden movement. I leaned over to cup her left tit with both hands. Each palm on one side of it. Once I had the breast secure, my lips latched onto the nipple and I sucked with as much force as possible. A low moaned escaped Cat’s mouth, she bucked, trying to arch her back and failing to move my weight.

I waited a few more seconds, to make sure she didn’t suspect my intentions were anything other than pure, then I bit down hard on her breast. I tried to restrain myself to leaving a circle shaped mark on her flesh rather than drawing blood, and I succeeded. Though Cat didn’t seem to appreciate my graciousness. She shrieked, her left hand grabbed my hair to pull on my head. Her right, with its nails which hadn’t seemed that sharp just a few moments ago, went to my back, scratching from scapula to tailbone. I resisted the savage pressure against my delicate scalp, ignoring the burning sensation on my back. It felt like Cat’s nails had drawn blood.

There was no reason hurting her should feel so great, yet fire was running through my veins. Cat’s every whimper, each violent protest, sent shocks of pleasure through me. Stranger still, even though my teeth on her flesh must’ve felt agonizing, her struggles were half-serious, insincere. She was going through the motions, but not doing a quarter of the things she could’ve been doing to stop me. She was pulling out my hair, and drawing blood, but she hadn’t struck me once, not with her hand nor her knees.

I lessened the pressure on her breast by a hair, reaching up with my hand to grab a handful of her hair as leverage. She reacted by letting go of my own hair to protect her own. I used the opportunity to change breasts, biting down on the second one as I hard as I had on the first. Cat screamed again, but this time there was a word inside the sound rather than mere pain.

I moved up her body to kiss her on the lips, and her answering kiss had as much force in it as my own, as if I hadn’t just mauled both her breasts without a simple by-your-leave. Then I started kissing around her lips, moving past her jaw and nibbling on her earlobe. She whispered something; I missed it.

“What is it?” I asked.

Her legs crossed each other over my buttocks, she whispered again, breathless words uttered directly into my ear this time. “Fuck me.”

I obliged, though it was a few awkward moments before we were able to disentangle our legs. But soon I was laying on her, our torsos touching, our faces against each other, and my cock against her cunt. I guided myself inside her with a hand, sinking to the hilt. She wrapped herself around me, arms and legs both. I hammered at her, my every stroke eliciting a whimper or moan; though I didn’t understand why she was making so much noise.

It was during our last kiss that it happened. Cat’s entire body stiffened, every muscle going taut, her cunt gripping me hard. She became so tight, I only had to hammer one more time to finish.

Afterwards, I remained on Cat, not bothering to roll off, just as she didn’t move an inch, holding me close. She looked ... content. I enjoyed the expression on her face, and kissed her forehead. Cat sighed.

“What were you doing to the woman?” Asked Hanna, her voice coming from the bedroom’s doorway.

She’d ruined the mood, so I took my weight off Cat and rolled onto my back. Cathy repeated my movement in the opposite direction, getting out of the bed and grabbing her folded dress from the nightstand. She immediately began putting it on. There was no trace left of the happiness I’d observed in her moments ago. I felt like strangling Hanna for interrupting the mood.

I waited until Cat had left the room to respond, because I suspected ignoring Hanna would be the action least likely to aggravate my beautiful redhead even more. The other woman understood my silence, holding her peace until Cat was out of the room for seconds. Then she spoke again, “Vasha says there are some important people here to meet you. He says, and I quote, ‘you have their attention.’ He wouldn’t tell me anything else, but It’s clear who is here to see you.”

“Yes. It is clear.”

“Will you meet with them?” She asked.

“Yes, I will. Where are they?”

“In the dining room, they’ve been waiting for you for a little while, listening to the her shrieks. I waited until you seemed finished before interrupting.”

I grinned. “Good.”

I stood, searching for my own clothes. Hanna whistled.

“What?”

“What were you two doing? Your back is bleeding.”

I twisted my arm behind me, trying to touch the stinging lines running the length of my spine. My hand came back red. I shrugged. “It was worth it. Can you stop the bleeding so I can dress without staining my clothes?”

She nodded with a wide smile. “I’m adept at caring for sex injuries,” she inspected my back, “this is nothing serious, you just need to wipe the blood and clean the wound. I’ll be right back.”

“Go.”

II

“Tell me who these people are.” I ordered Vasha when he met me at the bottom of the stairs. I hoped to learn a few things during the short walk to the dining room, as to not appear a complete idiot when talking to the representatives sent by Qoura. First impressions were important.

“One of them is the First Steward. He supposedly works for the Prince, but my men tell me the round shitbucket is Qoura’s creature through and through. The other one is ... was Yayim’s contact with the Prince. One of the cousins of the current Lord-Merchant Akser.”

We arrived at the door. Vasha opened it, motioning me to go through first. A flash of irrational suspicion made me hesitate. Instinctively, I called to Levi, who was standing still, as always, somewhere nearby. It moved, shaking the building with each step. The murderer, still waiting for me, raised one eyebrow.

I bared my teeth at him. “You first.”

He bent his head in concession and entered. I waited until Levi was behind me before following inside. No harm in being careful, none at all. Vasha didn’t know the extent or limitations of my powers, and I suspected the lack of knowledge was the only thing preserving my life. Nonetheless, it didn’t mean he wouldn’t try to swarm me with ten or fifteen of his men, to kill me with no risk to his own life. Having my monster as bodyguard cost nothing, and would serve to give Qoura’s representative some perspective as well.

There were no surprises within the room, just two men. One, grotesquely fat, dressed in rich velvet, coloured red and blue, wearing a trimmed beard. The other, a short, balding man with a greasy smile on his face wearing utilitarian, brown leather coat and trousers as well as a well-made black cape. Vasha pointed to the first man, “Sir, here you’ll find the Prince’s representative: First Steward Farim,” motioning the other fellow he introduced him as well, “And here is our ... friend among the Houses, Lord Emio Akser.”

Other than the two man, there was a long, wide table as well as a few windows covered by clear glass. The large windows admitted sunlight, illuminating the colourful rug underfoot as well as the carvings along the backs of the six seats around the table. A surprisingly tasteful decor, considering the previous owner.

The First Steward’s title niggled at me, as if I should’ve recognized it from somewhere else, and I took an instant dislike to his self-satisfied arrogance. The weaselly Lord Emio, on the other hand, was best described as forgettable. Utterly unimpressive, disappointing in his normalcy. His clothing screamed boring and dumb. His expression one of disinterested superiority. It was immediately clear the man didn’t consider the events of this meeting a priority. I couldn’t understand why Yayim would use this useless idiot as his contact.