Dogged

Onua couldn't stifle her laughter as Sarge crept into her bedroom. The sight of a hulk of a man attempting to slink about like a mouse would have been enough to make granite grin, she thought. She definitely wasn't laughing because she was nervous. After all, she had no reason to be scared, even if this was the first time since she had escaped the clutches of her abusive husband that she had been alone in her room with a man at night.

In fact, it would be utterly ridiculous of her to be afraid when, earlier that afternoon, she had whispered for him to come here tonight. Truly, it would be the height of comical if she turned into a coward now that they were both finally prepared to take their relationship beyond stolen kisses and touches in the stable that they could exchange when there were no friends hovering or trainees in need of reprimanding.

"You do know that you aren't supposed to enter the women's section of the barracks at all," Onua remarked, as Sarge shut the door behind him, and Tahoi, who was curled on the floor beside Onua's bed, wagged his tail enthusiastically, obviously hoping to entice the burly visitor into petting him. "Following that rule is especially important at night, you know. I really should have Tahoi bite off your head for trespassing."

Giving the dog a lazy pat on the head, Sarge sat down beside Onua on the bed. Onua felt the blood pound through her body, burning every inch of her with a searing pain that was both painful and pleasurable. Her entire frame quivered with need as he leaned closer to her and brought his lips to hers. The moist desire that she tasted on his lips only increased her craving for him, and, reflexively, she deepened the kiss that he had begun.

Only when the two of them were breathless did they separate. Over the thudding of her heart, Onua heard Sarge reply, "Sometimes in love you have to break all the rules, darling."

"Humph." Onua snorted as Tahoi, plainly displeased with the scant attention Sarge had paid him, rested a paw on Sarge's knee. "How would the trainees feel if they discovered that their harsh teacher was nothing more than a raging hypocrite?"

"Just so my ducks don't lose faith in me, I will be sure to give myself a lecture every bit as nasty as the one I would give any of them." Sarge's white teeth shone against the backdrop of his swarthy skin as he flashed a mischievous grin, and, ignoring Tahoi's plea for attention, ran his hands up Onua's arms. The sensation of his bare flesh against her own naked skin caused a moan to rise in her throat that she had to work to prevent from exploding from her lips. Even though Sarge's palms were lined with callouses, his touch was somehow gentle, and it was this peculiar combination of softness and strength that she relished most about him. "However, I'm not worried about that now."

"Get lost, you mangy cur," Onua snapped at Tahoi, shoving his paw off Sarge's knee. Then, because Sarge's hands were bringing her to a fever pitch that made her feel as if, simultaneously and without contradiction, she was happier than she had ever been in her life and she was in the worst agony that she had ever endured, she placed her palm on his knee.

Once she had squeezed and stroked his leg so that he would understand exactly what it was like to both long for a touch never to end and wish that the hand igniting fires all over your skin would stop brushing against you, she decided to heighten the ecstasy and torture the two of them were in. Smiling in a manner that was anything but innocent, she drifted her fingers upward, but before her hand could close around her target, Tahoi, eager not to be left out of the petting session, licked her fingers and completely ruined the mood of the moment.

Cursing, Onua broke away from Sarge, shoved the gigantic (supposedly fearsome, but really overly-friendly) dog out of the room, and closed the door. Then, she rejoined Sarge on the bed, where the two of them resumed their efforts to drown each other in kisses and run their fingers along every inch of one another's skin.

As Onua slipped off Sarge's nightshirt and stroked the pink strikes a lash had left along her lover's back, she said over Tahoi's faint whimpers for re-admittance, "You never did tell me how you got these scars."

"I got them when I made the mistake of falling in love with my first master's daughter." Sarge's tone was dispassionate as he appeared to focus all of his attention on rubbing his fingers along Onua's nipples. "I was a slave boy in her quarters, and, since we were around the same age, we developed crushes on one another. Neither of us ever acted upon our desires and we never exchanged so much as a kiss, but, somehow, her tutor and governess detected the budding attraction between us. They informed the master, and the master didn't care that we hadn't done anything together. The unforgivable offense was that his daughter and I had genuinely felt something for each other, because, to a Carthaki noble, having affairs with slaves is much less dishonorable and dangerous than actually caring about the slaves you sleep with. The master sold his daughter into marriage to an old noble, and I was beaten until I passed out for desecrating the master's daughter before being sold into the army, where I learned all the wonderful command and fighting skills I use to serve Tortall and the Riders now."

"Do you still love your first master's daughter?" asked Onua, squinting up at Sarge, as Tahoi's yelps grew louder outside the bedroom door.

"I probably love her in the same way that you do your old husband." Sarge shrugged. "Both of us were left with scars by our first loves. The two of us realize that you never love anyone in precisely the same fashion that you did your first love. We both understand that even if you do fall in love after you get over the pain of losing your first love, it will always be because something about that person reminds you of your first love. Scars heal, but they never disappear entirely, and later loves will always be different than first loves. That's the way life and love is, darling."

"I'm not even sure I love you." Onua shook her head. "I feel a powerful attraction to you. You aren't merely someone I lust after, and you aren't just a friend, but I don't have a clue whether that means that I actually love you. When I was with my husband before the relationship between him and me soured, it was an out of body sensation. With you, things are different." Sighing as Sarge's hand traced her bare belly, she concluded, "Words can't describe how it feels for me to touch you and be stroked by you, but I never feel like I am leaving my body as I did with my husband before my marriage was ruined."

"We have plenty of time to discover whether what you feel for me is love," Sarge told her, biting her ear gently.

Before she could respond to his words or his nip, Tahoi, who seemed to have concluded that desperate times warranted desperate measures, barked. Glowering, Onua pushed herself off the bed, grumbling, "He'll wake up the entire barracks if I don't let him back in."

Then, without waiting for a reply from Sarge and without bothering to cover her nakedness, she crossed over to the door and yanked it open. A second later, Tahoi bolted into the room and leapt onto the bed beside Sarge, wagging his tail with excitement at finally being allowed to participate in the proceedings.

"I really should make sausages out of Tahoi's intestines," Sarge announced, but his twisted grin revealed that he wasn't serious and even he couldn't resist the charm of an allegedly fierce dog who just wanted to be adored.