Chapter 8: Commander's Quarters

He didn't take me to the barracks.

He carried me, with his coat around me and Moth tucked inside it, across the whole width of the yard.

Nobody stopped him, because he was the Commander and he looked like he'd kill the first man who did.

His quarters were two rooms at the top of the Watch tower.

There was a stove, a desk, a narrow bed with a grey blanket, and one iron-banded trunk against the wall.

He set me down in front of the stove and put a dry shirt in my hands.

"There was a bell stamped on that door," I said. "Like mine."

"I saw it." His voice was careful. "Not tonight. Change, and I'll turn around."

"You don't have to."

He stood very still.

"Anwen."

It was the first time he had used my first name.

I liked how it sounded in his mouth.

"I'm twenty-one," I said. "I know my own mind. I'm cold, and I'm tired, and I almost drowned today."

"I want you to put your hands on me and make me warm."

His jaw worked.

"I'm thirty-one," he said, low. "I've been your commander for a week, and I've wanted you since the yard."

"Then stop standing there."

He crossed the room in two steps.

His hands cupped my face, and he kissed me hard.

I wound my arms around his neck and kissed him back with everything I had.

The wet shirt came off over my head.

He tore the laces of my skirt rather than wait to undo them.

Moth jumped out of the coat and curled up in the corner with her tail over her eyes.

He backed me to the bed and I sat down on the grey blanket.

He stood over me and looked, and the look made my skin burn.

"You're beautiful," he said. "Gods. Look at you."

"Take your coat off."

"Not yet."

His hand went to the back of my neck and tipped my head up.

"First I'm going to taste you. Lie back, Anwen."

I lay back.

He knelt on the floor between my knees and pushed my thighs apart with both hands.

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