Free And So It Begins by R.G. Green

almost without thought, his hands slipped beneath the sheets. Doing this now, doing this here ,on the same bed where Derek slept and on the same linens that would touch the trader’s skin, sent an intense and erotic heat through him that had him arching under the blankets, and he sighed as the gentle scrape of fabric teased his flesh. He found the string holding the pants in place and loosened the tie within moments. The heat of his palms sliding down his hips contrasted sharply with the cooler air that kissed his hardened shaft. Then he was surrounded in heat as his fingers circled and closed.
    He rarely preferred to be gentle in this, and his first full stroke tore a harsh gasp from his throat. He lifted his hand to lick, and the smell of his own scent filled his senses before he took his cock in his fist again. He had no right to take this kind of liberty here, but simply being in Derek’s room, lying in Derek’s bed, knowing Derek could return at any moment… it added an erotic edge to the memory of the moisture gathered on the trader’s skin and clarified the heavy drops that licked sensuously down his body, kissing his nipples and trailing lower.
    Kherin’s hand and body reacted, and heavy breaths deepened to moans as he began to writhe in the grip of pleasure.
     
     
    “W HAT the hell were you thinking, Josen?”Derek hissed, his knuckles white where they clenched the edge of the bar. He would much rather clench the tavern keeper’s throat. “Even if your patrons are too drunk to remember their own names after a sip of your poison, you recognized the prince! Do not lie and claim otherwise.”
    Josen scowled at the trader, but the flush coloring his cheeks was a clear betrayal of his fear. The hour was yet early enough the common room remained empty, save for a few weary whores who lounged on the stairs to watch the show. Josen snatched a soiled rag from beneath the bar and began to wipe its top with nervous strokes, glaring at his work to avoid the trader’s face.
    Derek hadn’t lied about his errands in the city, though all but this one had been common and completed quickly: securing supplies to be picked up before his departure, visiting shopkeepers and the market square to listen rumors and gossip, and arranging horses for both himself and Kherin, though foregoing the royal stables in favor of less recognizable town-bred mounts. Actual news came from different sources. Derek had long ago learned that drunken tongues were less guarded ones, and even the most inexperienced of whores knew far more than simply how to give pleasure.
    “Try that with the prince again, and you’ll never make it to the royal dungeon,” Derek warned evenly, and his glare remained fixed until he was satisfied the threat was understood. Slowly, his fists unclenched. “Now, where is Cass?”

Chapter 4

    E VEN in the early hours before dawn, Delfore was far from silent, the sounds of unseen strays—both human and animal—easily heard over the rhythmic clicking of shoed hooves on the well-worn cobbles. Eyes peered from darkened windows and alleys to watch the riders pass, and so confirm the rumors in the absence of a formal farewell ceremony: Prince Kherin of Llarien was leaving the city.
    Kherin shivered, watching his breath form and vanish, misting above the sturdy gelding he rode, and fading a moment later. The gelding was one of the stable’s best. Derek had assured him of that. And from the city stables, rather than the royal ones. Kherin hadn’t missed that fact. Royal mounts would have required royal grooms, grooms who had known and liked the dark-haired Tristan, and who knew beyond a doubt the reason for his dismissal. Though Kherin was sure none would resort to outright hostility, the awkwardness of his presence in their midst would have been unavoidable.
    And he would have learned nothing more of Tristan’s whereabouts, of that he was certain. The stableboy had vanished without a word, and the vagueness in what the