The Plan Commences Read online Kristen Ashley (The Rising #2)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Magic, Paranormal, Romance, Witches Tags Authors: Series: The Rising Series by Kristen Ashley
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Total pages in book: 208
Estimated words: 209645 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1048(@200wpm)___ 839(@250wpm)___ 699(@300wpm)
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My mother and father and auntie and grandmother and all of our people held this truth about ourselves as the utmost of secrets. No one around us knew who we were, what we were.

We’d learned.

But now, could I trust my husband?

A husband who was also king of the seas?

I started when I heard a thump in the sand beside me.

I looked that way to see Aramus’s boots there. His socks landed on them before I tipped my head back and then twisted my neck, for he was moving behind me.

He settled in there, his long, muscled legs on either side of me bent, his heels in the sand in front of the toweling, his arms snaking about me to pull me back against his body.

Thus, I settled into him, turning to face the sea and resting my head on his shoulder.

“You’ll miss it,” he said in my ear.

He was speaking of the sea.

“Yes,” I answered.

“Notting Thicket is far inland. But Sky Bay isn’t. We will make our way there immediately, once True and Farah are wed,” he promised.

I smiled a small smile at the waves before I changed our subject.

“You’re being too hard on your men.”

“They must keep sharp. If this bloody Beast ever appears, it’ll be the mightiest thing they’ve fought. In the meantime, whatever happens in Cassius’s realm will likely not be pretty. It’s important they’re ready.”

I had never been to Sky Bay.

I’d heard the beaches of Airen were black.

But what I knew of Sky Bay, it was all rock.

They did not need to be drilled on the beach.

I twisted to catch his gaze.

“I know nothing about soldiering, but my impression is that this is not normal drilling.”

His brows drew together. “Have my men been complaining?”

“No,” I somewhat lied.

“They best not,” he muttered, his attention drifting to the waves.

I twisted even farther in his arms and put my hand on his chest.

“Husband,” I called.

His eyes tipped down to me. “Wife.”

I grinned up at him because I liked that I was that…to him.

Though I was not that, not yet, not entirely.

It was time to get on with that.

The “entirety” part.

Thus, hesitantly, I began, “I think that tonight we should ask the men who have tents closer to us to move them a bit away so—”

“No,” Aramus denied, before I even got my suggestion completely out.

“But—”

“No, Ha-Lah. We leave tomorrow. I’m sure there will be some settlement or village or something along the way that will prove fit for our needs.”

“But we can—”

“No.”

“What I mean to say is, not going through with the whole—”

“My queen,” he gave me a squeeze, “no.”

I felt my face screw up. “You aren’t even listening.”

“Will what you say make me hard?”

I paused to consider that.

“Right,” he muttered.

“Aramus!” I snapped, also slapping him lightly on his chest.

“Ha-Lah,” he replied.

I persevered, “I could just…with my mouth. And then you could, er… with your mouth. Or fingers. Or, say…both.”

He tilted his head back and said to the skies. “She wants to kill me. She actually does. My wife wishes my death.”

I turned fully in his arms so that I was sitting on a hip between his thighs and thus could press both hands to his chest, hard.

“Husband, we need to ease the tension.”

He again looked to me. “And we will…properly.”

“I do not know. I have not had much experience. The fumblings of youth. But I’m relatively certain I can suck your shaft…properly,” I stated as he glowered at me. “With a little supervision,” I ended on a mutter.

“Can we make a pact?”

“A pact?” I asked warily.

“A pact,” he asserted. “This pact including you not mentioning your experience, however not much there was. And I will do the same, even though mine could not be construed in any way as ‘not much.’”

Considering his simply sharing his “could not be construed in any way as ‘not much,’” made my blood get hot, I felt it wise to reply, “Absolutely.”

“Now, if my men are such ninnies they cannot handle sand drills from an exacting captain without making their discontent known to their queen, I will meet you in bed this eve after I’ve found some privacy and taken care of things.”

I shifted against him as a very certain visualization consumed my mind at how he would go about doing that.

“Ha-Lah, stop staring at me like you want to take a bite out of me,” he grunted.

“I sort of do,” I whispered, staring at his mouth.

“Months, she’s a cold fish. When I can’t bed her, she’s a hot tart. I cannot win,” he groused.

I ignored that and asked, “Can I watch you take care of things?”

Aramus was back to grunting. “No.”

I pouted.

He pressed a swift kiss on my mouth, lifted away a few inches and declared, “There is much we need to talk about, and this is not it.”

“And what would be it?”


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