Previously - plot and potential trouble ahead... plus requests for less plot and more, erm... filth.
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Kate stood frozen in the afternoon sun, blood draining from her face as she watched Corbeau hurry away. "Kate?" She heard their voices as if from a distance "Kate...?" An aside to someone else "Go - find out what he said."
Her hand shot out, grabbing Porthos' sleeve as he turned to leave. Her voice sounded distant to her own ears "No-one goes near him." Her eyes snapped back into focus and she turned on her heel, walking briskly back towards the inn and the privacy of the room. They exchanged uneasy looks and followed.
.......
The room was scarcely big enough for one, but they were lucky to have got it with town so busy.
As he walked in as she turned, straightening up, skirts dropping back to her ankles; her sleeves hung long, angled to a point that almost covered her hands. He raised an eyebrow as she sat down on the bed, hands clasped and resting on her lap, shoulders rigid with tension. There was slightly more colour in her face than there had been as she'd watched Corbeau leave, but she was still very pale.
"Talk to me. What did he say?"
She shook her head, struggling to find words. "The one in the stables..." She stopped, eyes closed and he remembered the comment that Martin had cut off mid sentence - 'She still won't talk about...' He sat down next to her and waited. She took a deep breath and opened her eyes. "The one I killed in the stables. I made an orphan of his son. He was sent away to relatives to try and protect him from the scandal. Apparently he's back and talking revenge." She looked at him wearily. "He can't be more than 16 - I don't even know what he looks like anymore."
"He's here, in town?"
She shook her head again "I'd imagine so, but I don't know."
He rested his hand on her leg then lifted it off, gave her a puzzled look, and as she shrugged slightly he reached down and moved her skirt aside. The boots were the ones she had worn in the Cardinal's office - complete with the knife slipped in the side. Her indrawn breath was barely audible to him as he ran his hand higher, a confusing mixture of desire and concern battling for supremacy as his fingers brushed across her skin and then encountered another knife strapped to her thigh. He fought off the urge to continue his fingers' upward exploration, relieved that he appeared to have retained enough self control not to throw her down onto the bed, despite what certain parts of his body were demanding.
He pulled back, dropping the hem of her skirt to the floor. "How may knives are you carrying?"
She sighed and unhooked the sleeves from her thumbs. Both wrists had leather supports strapped on, concealing short blades; she reached up to pull a pin out of her hair - the point viciously sharp. Then finally a fan from her pocket concealing a sharp blade joined the pin on the bed.
"Kate..." He looked at her - it seemed an excessive number of blades, but for all he knew this was her normal precautionary tally of concealed weapons if she suspected there might be trouble. The tension in her shoulders was a fair indication that she was worried, but he was at a loss as to how to proceed. Certainly she was unlikely to take kindly to being told she didn't need the knives - that they would protect her. She met his eyes, looking wary and he smiled slightly, considering at the array of weapons available and running his fingers across the shape of the knife under her skirt. "Really, you could just say 'Not tonight, I have a headache.'"
She looked at him, face expressionless. He held his breath - on reflection that might have been an extremely stupid thing to say considering she was reacting to a threat from the son of a man who'd raped her.
To his immense relief a small smile ghosted across her face before she looked away.
"Kate, we could move on, stay somewhere else...?"
She shook her head "No, I can hardly recommend a performance I haven't seen. And that's the price of their news. So we stay." She leant forwards, elbows resting on her knees, head dropped to gaze down at the floor. He looked at her, distracted by the stray wisps of hair escaped and lying against her neck... and her neck - he reached out and brushed the back of his hand against her skin, absorbed by the feel of it smooth against his fingers as he trailed them down and then across her shoulders, then began to work on the muscles - rubbing and massaging the tension from them. She let out a groan of pleasure and turned away from him, leaning back against his hands and squirming with contentment under the pressure of his thumbs digging into her muscles.
He looked at the fan and the hairpin on the bed "You'll be fine. You're as fast with a knife as anyone I know, and he'd have to past us first anyway. We've got your back." He kissed her neck, self control faltering at the feel of her skin against his lips. "I've got your back."
She closed her eyes and let out a deep sigh on satisfaction as he worked on her shoulders "Back, front, sides... keep that up and you've got any bit of me you want."
"Really? Any bit?" His lips brushed against her ear.
"Mmmmm" She leant her head back as he brushed his beard against her and nibbled down her neck. She reached back to run her fingers through his hair and he abandoned all pretensions of self control.
"How about this bit?" Breathing increasingly uneven, his lips reached her collarbone, then one hand left her shoulders to wrap round her waist, pulling her closer, before tracing the outline of the concealed knife and starting to pull her skirt up. "And this?" His other hand wrapped around her, trying to work its way inside her bodice. "Any bit I want?" The bodice fell away as she released the lacing and he cupped a breast, the nipple hard against his hand. She drew a shaky breath at the touch of his fingers teasing through the material, anticipation building. His voice was thick with desire "If you don't mind..." his fingers squeezed and a dart of pleasure shot through her body, "...if it's not too greedy, I'd rather have all of it in one piece rather than bits...?" Her fingers dug into his leg as his hand brushed upwards against her inner thighs.
Heat flooded into her and she tried to twist in his arms to push him down onto the bed, but he tightened his grip, pulling her onto his lap so he was pressed hard against her back.
"Christ, Kate..." his breathing was ragged as he bit gently on her shoulder, his fingers slipped inside her, and she whimpered, hips driving against his hand, tilting to allow him deeper. Tension of an entirely different kind building within as he massaged and pressed down on her. He closed his eyes, relishing the feel of her - the warmth and wetness surrounding his fingers, whole body squirming in his arms, small whimpers escaping her as she moved against him, desperate for release, as he pulled back and pressed her down onto the bed next to him, both their hands fumbling with his breeches.
The hairpin and fan fell to the floor as she tore the knife from her thigh, pulling his lips down to hers, moving beneath him to draw him inside, clothes pulled roughly out of the way. His fingers caught in her hair and pulled her head back, exposing her neck to his lips as he nipped and nuzzled against her, beard scratching against her skin as she met his thrusts with increasing urgency, the bed creaking under the onslaught.
One of the leather bands on her wrist caught on his hair and he grabbed both her wrists, using one hand to pin them both to the pillow above her head before returning his attention to her neck and lips. He lifted his head as he felt her start to shake beneath him, watched with satisfaction she arched beneath him, lost in desire. He felt her tighten around him, pelvic muscles contracting and was tipped over the edge as she fell back against the mattress with a dazed expression on her face. He collapsed against her then rolled over in a tangle of legs, holding her tightly as she burrowed into his arms. They lay in silence on the bed, hearts racing.
Aramis paused outside the door, hand poised to knock and smirked slightly at the muted noises coming from within. Silence fell, and he knocked on the door.
It was Kate's voice that replied "Who is it?"
He remembered her opening the door of her room at the palace, knife in her hand, and stepped back slightly. "The Provost is here, he's asking for you."
Kate swore under her breath then called a reply "I'll be down in a minute." She sighed and dropped her head back onto his shoulder momentarily, then lifted her head to look up at him, hair falling across his eyes... she smiled and brushed it away, then squirmed upwards to kiss him as he pulled her close again. "Well, it could have been worse - any earlier and I'd have bounced his head off the wall for interrupting..."
He pulled a face "He shouldn't have been interrupting anything- I'm sorry, it wasn't the best moment to drag you into bed. I did mention that you have a very bad effect on my self control."
She stretched against him and shrugged slightly "Did you notice any objection? I'm more than happy to be distracted by you - or had you not noticed? Besides, you'll know if I'm not."
She sat up, pulling clothes and hair straight, and replaced the concealed weapons before she left the room: a picture of respectability other than a tell-tale flush to her cheeks and a bruise from his teeth concealed beneath her shawl.
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