Falling Warriors Series Collection (Books 1, 2 & 1.5)

by Nicole René

His expression lost some of its hardness. “Scaring you is the last thing I’d want to do Namoriee,” he replied, caressing her cheek. “But I need you to understand what fate awaits you.”

  “Do I not have the right to choose my own fate?”

  “No, my sweet,” he said, his tone gently derisive. “You don’t.”

  Her breath hitched when he brought her hand up between them. “You have until your eighteenth winter,” he said quietly, and darkly sensuous. He stayed fixated on her hand as she trailed a finger down her palm once, before clasping their hands together. He lifted his gaze, eyes half-mast as they met her own. “Then I’m coming for you.”

  He dropped her hand, and she stared at his back as he walked away. Later that night, as she laid in bed, staring at her palm, she realized what he had mimicked. With a shaking finger, she traced the same path her did earlier that day.

  There were only two acts that would require for two people to slice their flesh like that.

  A blood bond…and marriage.

  Tyronian watched as all around him people danced, laughed, and ate in celebration of his and Namoriee's marriage. Cadence of drums kept the tempos for the piccolos and lutes as they played happy and upbeat songs to match the mood of celebrators. Fires were blazing all around, lighting up the Izayges village and their guests. Many had made the travel to witness their union. Ever since the war, the relationship between the Izayges, Asori, and Sicares had improved, a sense of comradely between them that only going to battle for each other can achieve. Their wedding had taken place at sunset, and Tyronian knew that the image of Namoriee walking toward him her wedding gown would stay in his mind forever. She had looked so beautiful; it had made his breath falter.

  Everything was perfect except...Tyronian looked to his right at the empty seat that Namoriee had sat in earlier before he sent her away to their hut.

  He was trying to give Namoriee enough time to prepare herself. She knew as well as he did about what would happen tonight. He knew how scared she must be, so he wanted to give her a few more moments of innocence before he took it away. But couldn't deny that it was getting harder for him to stay at their wedding reception. All he could think about was claiming his new wife whom he had been in love with for years. Of how her face will look when he pushes inside her, owning her body in a way he made sure no man would. Blood surged, his arousal becoming evident beneath his breeches. He gave himself a few moments to calm down, before he pushed out of his chair and stood. His absence went unnoticed as he made his way to his hut.

  * * *

  He waited two years, and he couldn't wait any longer. It was time to make Namoriee his once and for all.

  The hut's door opened, and Namoriee knew it was Tyronian without having to look up. He had a presence that called to her, like an invisible cord that connected them. It was a pull that she spent most of her life trying to ignore, but the pull only got stronger the last two winters. The moment he had stolen one of her firsts’ and put him hands and mouth no one has ever gone before, her body yearned for him. For that release only he could offer. But it wasn't just her body reacting to him, but her heart, too.

  * * *

  It yearned for him each time he would put her happiness above his own. Each time he had protected her, however unwilling she was to admit it, or how he offered his silent comfort.

  * * *

  This time, his presence was pulling her in for an entirely different reason. The reason had her heart pounding in her chest as different emotions swirled inside of her. Nervousness, no small amount of fear, and another emotion that she absolutely refuses to acknowledge—anticipation.

  * * *

  "You can't ignore me forever," he said to her, causing her to jump. She didn't hear him walk over to her. She shivered when she felt his beard brush against temple as he nuzzled her.

  * * *

  "Look at me."

  * * *

  She shook her head. She didn't want to look at him. It would make this moment too real. She heard him sigh, and then his palm was cupping her cheek, lifting her head so that she had no choice. He was crouched down in front of her. He frowned, his thumb catching the tear that escaped.

  * * *

  "Am I really that horrid that you weep at the sight of me?"

  * * *

  Namoriee escaped the caring expression he showed by closing her eyes. She didn't want to see the gentleness he possessed, because in a few moments she knew it would be a lie.

  * * *

  "Please, Tyronian, there's still t-t-time," Namoriee trembled, "just let me go." Once he stole her innocence, their marriage would be fully binding. His grip changed, he knew what she was asking.

  * * *

  He fisted the hair at the nape of her neck and pulled gently until her neck arched. He picked her up then, wrapping his arm around her waist and lifting. Namoriee gasped, wrapping her legs around his waist instinctively and gripping his shoulders so that she won't fall. The new position brought her mouth level with his, to which he immediately used to his advantage. The kiss was gentle, and undemanding. He kissed her lips as if they were delicate, like if he pressed too hard he would bruise them. He pulled away, and she shivered at the emotion in his eyes.

  * * *

  "Don't ever ask me to let you go, Namoriee," he said, his breath wisping against her lips. "That's something I'll never be able to do. You'll have to kill me first."

  * * *

  He was in complete control of his movements as he lowered her down onto the bed until he hovered over her. He had felt her flinch when her back had met the pallets, but he paid it no mind and instead continued to keep his lips meshed with hers. He knew she was nervous and scared, he could feel it in all her trembles, but he didn’t want to her to fear him. He wanted to love her. He didn’t want to be like all the other husbands, where he would force himself on her painfully. Too many times had he heard maidens who would recall their deflowering and seen the look of terror and pain that encompassed their faces. He didn’t want that for Namoriee and while he knew that he would hurt her, it was inevitable, he could at least give her pleasure first, and try to make it as painless as possible.

  * * *

  Even if that required every molecule of his self-control.

  His tongue flicked out, before sucking on her lush bottom lip until she yielded, accepting his invitation. Their tongues danced with each other, swirling and touching in different tempos; fast, slow, soft, with each stroke her felt her body lose its tension until she was soft and pliable against him. At the unconscious submission, he turned his attention elsewhere, trailing soft kisses down her jaw and neck. He smiled against her skin when she moaned softly when he swirled his tongue against her collarbone. He made his way back up until his mouth was pressed against hers again, giving her a peck before he pulled away. Her chest was heaving, causing her breasts to rise and fall erratically drawing his attention to them and causing his mouth to water.

  He couldn’t wait to taste her.

  “I’m going to take your dress off,” he told her as he fingered the bodice of her dress. She visible stiffened at that. “I’m just going to take it off, nothing else,” he soothed.

  For now, he thought as he reached for the hem of the simple, but beautiful white dress and tugged. It had a scoop neckline, quarter sleeves, and a long trail and dip in the back that exposed her spine and shoulder blades. The dress was elegant, bestowing Namoriee’s innocence yet hinting at the daring woman that he knew she hid.

  “No,” he barked, a bit harsher than he meant to, when Namoriee covered herself with her arms when he tugged it off her. He softened his tone, “I want to look at you,” he said as he pried her arms away, leaving her bare to his gaze.

  She was beautiful.

  Her bronze skin, darker than most, shimmered like a star against the fire light, long, chocolate hair fanned out on his pillows and around her oval face. He trailed his eyes downward. Her breasts were oval, and he couldn’t help himself. He cupped them, admiring how
they fit perfectly in his palm. Her nipples were a lighter brown that the rest of her. He brushed his thumb over one, causing Namoriee to inhale sharply at the sensation. He bent, slowly, as to not to scare her, his eyes on hers the entire time when he flicked the peaked bud with his tongue, making her back arch. He alternated his attentions, loving the sounds she made each time he did.

  “Tyronian?” she whispered breathlessly when his mouth traced a path down her toned stomach, strands of his hair tickling her skin along with his open-mouthed kisses. She jumped in surprise when his tongue swirled around her belly button, before continuing its path downward.

  “T-t-tyronian...?” Namoriee’s voice was breathy and high pitched, her alarm evident when he passed the patch of brown hair and settled between her legs, palms spread wide across her inner thighs and pushing them apart. He caught her eyes right when he dove in, giving her one long, flat tongued lick up her cleft. He placed his hand on her hips, holding her still when her back bowed, hips lifting against the sensation as he teased her with his tongue.

  He didn’t hold back. He licked, suckled, and nipped, relishing in the taste of her and the way her body trembled beneath his hand.

  “Tyronian!” Namoriee whimpered, high-pitched and whiny, which clued him in on the fact that she was about to climax.

  He rounded his tongue, stuck it into her tight hole, and groaned when warmth flooded his tongue. He brought her release that way once more before he pulled back, quickly shedding out of his clothes before covering her with his body again and sealing his mouth onto hers, letting her taste herself on his tongue. She stiffened when she felt his erection press into her skin, but relaxed when he made no further moves. She jumped slightly when his hand brushed her ribs.

  “It tickles,” she mumbled in embarrassment at his grin.

  “Sorry,” he lied.

  His hands moved down in between her thighs, and she stiffened, then shivered when he tentatively ran a finger along her opening. She let out a soft moan, when he dipped his finger inside of her.

  “How’s that feel?” He whispered down to her, pressing a kiss to the side of her head. Though he had touched her this way before, it had been awhile since he last stroked her.

  She didn’t answer, whether because she was embarrassed, or didn’t want to admit that he was making her feel good, he wasn’t sure. He eased his finger out, and then pushed it back in gently, trying to prepare her for when he entered her completely. He added another finger, keeping his administration's slow, and easy, until her breaths escalated, and her hips lifted. He could feel her walls start to tighten around his fingers, her heat quivering. He used his thumb to brush against her swollen nub and watched with heated eyes as she came apart.

  Her eyes opened, feverish and still reeling from her orgasm. He bent, kissing her softly when he saw the apprehension on her face when she realized what he was about to do.

  “Try to relax,” he whispered. He could feel her body shake; her chest rose rapidly with her breathing as he aligned himself and started to push in slowly.

  Namoriee’s features grew tight with discomfort, her nails biting into his shoulders. He kept his eyes locked on her face as he lowered himself on his elbows when his arms became too shaky to hold himself up. She was so tight and warm around him. Her body was fighting against him, in such a way that made it difficult to hold back his urge to surge inside of her. Namoriee’s pained whimper brought Tyronian’s focus back on her. He took hold over her wrists and pinned them above her head, interlocking their fingers.

  He could feel the tremble in her hand, even as she gripped his tightly. He knew she knew what was coming by the flare in her eyes. He dipped his head, his nose brushing against her cheek as he nuzzled her tenderly.

  “I’m not ready,” she whispered tearfully. He tensed, a muscle in his jaw ticking.

  “I’m sorry, Namoriee,” Tyronian said huskily with barely restrained lust and longing in his voice. “I would do anything you ask of me, but this.” He lifted his head, expression softening at what he saw. “I’ve wanted you for so long, and now that I can finally have you…” he exhaled shakily. “I can’t. I need to have you.”

  His hips pulled back, and surged forward in one smooth motion, tearing through her hymen and swallowing back her pain-filled cry with his kiss.

  Namoriee has never felt pain like she did now. The suddenness of it caused tears to well up in her eyes and slide down her cheeks. She felt too full. Every one of her nerve endings was screaming in pain, angry at the intrusion. Even the smallest of movements felt like fire. She was only half aware of Tyronian as he tenderly nuzzled her cheek and chased away her escaped tears with kisses as he whispered unintelligible praises, trying to sooth her.

  “Please don’t move,” she gasped clutching around his hand that still held hers. He stilled immediately.

  “Tell me what you need,” Tyronian rumbled lowly, and she was surprised to feel the barest of tremble from him. She blinked, her eyelashes sticking together from her tears. He was looking down at her, his teeth gritted together tightly, almost as if he was angry. He must have sensed her trepidation because his eyes softened. “Tell me what to do, sweet girl.”

  “Just…stay still. Please. I need…” her voice caught on the last word, and another tear leaked from the corner of her eyes. She didn’t have to finish though, Tyronian seemed to know what she was asking.

  “Tell me when, beautiful.”

  He lowered himself until his chest was pressed close to hers, giving her time to adjust. He distracted her with his soft caresses of her body, and the taste of his lips. He took his time, and no matter how much she resented him and the situation he forced her into, she couldn’t help but be grateful for his patience. He never rushed her, seemingly content to just touch her, even if he was still buried inside of her.

  Gradually, her body relaxed, her walls loosing around his hardness. He waited for her whispered “okay” before he slowly began to withdraw. He let out a garbled curse when he drove back inside of her and Namoriee gasped at the sensation. He continued his thrusting in slow movements.

  “You okay?”

  Namoriee couldn’t answer, because, even though she still felt residual pain, a different sensation was starting to zing through her. An unexplainable need was swirling inside of her, making her body flare up and causing tingles to spread through of her, with each thrust of his cock.

  His lips curled up into a wicked grin, his eyes hooding as he looked at her. “That feels good doesn’t it, Namoriee? Do you like the way my cock fills you up?”

  She gave him his answer with her moan, nails digging into his hand when he started to thrust into her a bit harder.

  “I think you do like it. You like the way my cock claims you. Your body knows it's mine to take. Mine to do with as I please,” Tyronian rasped down at her. He shifted, gripping her around her waist as he plunged into her with more unleashed movements. The new angle brought newfound pleasure, and she couldn’t help but cry out at the feel of it. He was hitting something inside of her that made her feel like she was going to implode with sweet agony.

  “Tell me, Namoriee. Tell me you like the way my cock feels inside of you. Tell me that you’re mine,”

  “Tyronian!”

  “While I love the way my name comes out of your mouth, those aren’t the words I’m looking for.” Somehow, he could grin, even though he was panting just as much as she was. She didn’t know how he could do anything at all. She felt like her body was in a whirlpool of pleasure, the twinges of pain just adding to the inferno. She was a captive inside her own body, with Tyronian and the pleasure only he can inflict as her master. She jerked when he brushed his thumb against her swollen nub, and the heat inside of her surged, until she was almost delirious.

  “Gods look at you,” he panted, gripping her hip tighter, “You never looked so beautiful.”

  “Tyronian!” Namoriee whimpered, close to the edge. “I need...I—”

  “I know what you need, my sweet,”
Tyronian whispered, reaching between them to rub his fingers in circles against the part of her body that throbbed the most. “You need to soak my cock with your release.”

  He pressed down on her, hard, and Namoriee saw stars as her body seized around him. Her moan was loud and drawn out as she clamped down around him tight, bringing him with her.

  Panting, Tyronian slumped on top of her, careful not to crush her with his weight. She was trembling beneath him with the aftershock of her orgasm. Never in his twenty-nine years had Tyronian experienced the amount of pleasure he just did right now. No woman had ever felt as amazing clamped around his cock the way she had. It made him feel powerful. It made him feel sated yet energized.

  It made the primal part of him roar, because if he was obsessed with Namoriee before, tonight brought it to a whole new echelon.

  He lifted his head, staring down at his wife’s flushed face. Gods, she was his wife. Heat flooded him and made his cock twitch. He wanted to possess her again. He wanted to bend her over and take her from behind, so that her ass pressed into him as he spanked her, blemishing her skin and leaving his mark. He wanted to dominate her.

  But that was for another day.

  "You okay?" He asked, smoothing back damp hair from her forehead. She didn't answer him and instead just turned her head away from him. He could see tears start to gather in her eyes. He sighed. He knew this would be a possible reaction, Leawyn warned him but he still felt the pang in his chest the action caused. He pushed himself up, gently pulling out of her as he did. Namoriee gasped when he did, but other than that she continued to stay silent. He padded across the room to the basin he kept there. He took the rag there, and wiped himself off, he paused at the blood that coated his member before continuing, rinsing the rag out again.