by Nicole René
“I know. It keeps me up at night.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you.” Namoriee crossed her arms over her chest stubbornly. “You can’t make me. Besides, Leawyn needs me here.”
“You seem to think that you have a choice.” Tyronian grinned.
They were arguing in their hut, and he had just told her to pack a bag, as they’ll be leaving shortly on a seven-day trip. To say she took it well was an understatement. It had been weeks since their wedding, and the altercation with Xavier and Leawyn. Though their relationship with each other was less strained, things have been tensed between them and Xavier ever since Namoriee informed Leawyn of the baby she lost. Which was precisely why Tyronian wanted to take Namoriee away for a bit.
He could see that she still held guilt for the punishment that Leawyn received from her husband, no matter how many times he tried to tell her that Xavier would have found some other reason to punish her anyways. Besides, Leawyn enjoyed the punishment almost as much as Xavier enjoyed delivering them. Not that Tyronian was judging his cousin’s sex life, but their relationship cycle was one he would never figure out.
“Namoriee,” Tyronian interrupted her mid-rant. “You’re going to be packing a bag, and you’re going to do it now. This wasn’t a debate, I wasn’t asking you for your permission, it was an order.”
Namoriee’s eyes narrowed, and the spark of defiance that Tyronian loved so much flashed in her eyes. Her lips curled up slightly into a sneer of stubbornness and female indignation.
“No.”
“No?” he parroted.
“No,” Namoriee repeated, taking a step back as Tyronian started a slow prowl toward her. “You can’t just come in here, with all your handsome, and order me about. You just can’t. Husband or not, I’m my own person Tyronian! I get to decide if I’m going to go on a trip, or if I’m going to pack a bag, or…or anything else for that matter!”
“…you think I’m handsome?” he grinned as he herded her against the wall.
Namoriee huffed. “That’s all you heard out of that entire speech?” She craned her head back as he pressed against her.
“I heard the only thing that matters,” Tyronian assured, trailing a finger down the side of her face.
“Oh?” her voice was noticeably breathier.
Tyronian hummed, trailing his nose from her neck to her temple, breathing in the scene of her. She whimpered when his lips caught her earlobe, nibbling on it. “I heard you say ‘no’ to me.”
“T-that’s the only thing that mattered?” She shivered as his hand reached up and deftly untied the strings holding her dress together. The action caused her erratic breathing to double, making her breasts heave with each inhale and exhale.
“Oh…” she moaned softly when he rolled her nipple around with his fingers when her breasts spilled free; plucking them until they became hard, needy buds. He snaked his arm around her waist and gripped her hip. He made sure that his beard scrapped against her as he whispered in her ear.
“Don’t ever tell me no, Namoriee. It makes me want to have you scream ‘yes.”
She gasped when he pulled her flush against him, and lifted her clear off the ground, forcing her to wrap her legs around him as he effortlessly carried her to bed. Her back landed on the pallets, and she bounced once before he was on top of her. The sound of fabric ripping made her yelp.
“I hate you in clothes,” Tyronian muttered, ripping her dress again. “I hate when your body is hidden from me. I want to lock you up and keep you naked and prisoner in my bed.” He pulled at the fabric again until, finally, she was completely bare to his gaze. Her back bowed at the feel of his hands running up the sides of her body. He bent, taking her breast into his mouth.
“Ah!” she gasped when his teeth clamped onto the hardened bud and pulled, just enough to give that flash of pain before his wet tongue soothed the ache away. He alternated his attention to each breast, suckling and biting them.
“Do you know how long I’ve wanted to do this?” Tyronian mumbled between the kisses he started to trail down her neck and collarbone. “How long I’ve been wanting to taste your wetness?” He continued to kiss down her body, until he hovered over her sex, peeling back her slick lips with his fingers.
“I’ve been a thirsty, thirsty man, Namoriee. I think it’s time I finally get hydrated, so feel free to soak my tongue as much as you want.” And with that, he took her into his mouth, shoving his tongue into her tight, greedy hole hard enough for her to cry out at the sensation.
He eased up, sliding his tongue up her center with one, long lick, until he reached the bundle of nerves that was so swollen and red for him. Namoriee’s back shot off the bed when he flicked his tongue against it rapidly, before he enclosed the entirety of it with his lips. His hands wrapped around the top of her thighs, holding her down prisoner to his administrations.
He consumed her with his mouth. Her broken moans turn him on more. Her breath quickens, her lips raising to his mouth and the grip he had on his hair became almost unbearable; but he wouldn’t tell her to let go. He refused to stop, to take it easy on her. He wanted his name to leave her lips in a scream, and he wanted to imprint himself on her like she imprinted herself on his soul.
He wouldn’t stop.
He refused to stop.
Not until she accepts the truth—that he owned her body. He owned he release, and soon, he was going to own her heart, too.
Tyronian ended up having to carry her onto his horse, Jidu. Even after she was exhausted from finding release courtesy of his tongue, she refused to go anywhere with him. Her poor, meager existence was nothing compared to his mountain of a body. The man was just too strong; he could manhandle her more easily than she liked. Which he seemed to be very fond of doing. So, now she sat (quite grumpily) between Tyronian’s thighs as he steered his horse with ease as the stallion ate up the distance between their tribe and wherever they were going.
“You still ignoring me?” Tyronian asked from behind her as he slowed Jidu to a walk. At her silence, he chuckled. “You can’t ignore me forever, sweet,” he whispered in her ear. Considering how she’s been ignoring him for the three days they’ve been traveling, she highly doubted that.
Scowling at him, she jerked her head away from him while simultaneously ignoring the charming grin he shot her way.
“Suite yourself.”
He hopped off his horse so suddenly that Namoriee, use to the support his chest had for her back, became unbalanced. She squealed when she toppled sideways, off the horse, and straight into Tyronian’s waiting arms.
“Tyronian!” Namoriee yelled when he started to carter her off into the trees.
“She speaks!”
“This isn’t funny, put me down!”
“No.”
He continued to carry her deeper into the dense foliage despite her attempts to get free. Soon, the sound of water met her ears and she looked to her right to see a creek.
“This creek eventually connects to the river that runs through the Izayges.”
Of course, Samaria had many rivers, as would be expected as the land all the tribes hail from was bordered by the sea on each side. Their land was rich with green, rolling hills and trees, but there were parts that were dry, and withered. Not that Namoriee traveled much. Most of the traveling she did was when she was with Aggod when she visited the Asori tribe. He deposited on top a boulder that was perpendicular to the creek and Namoriee took a moment to look at her surroundings. They weren’t completely shielded by the trees, but there were trees surrounding them on either side, some so grown that they created a canopy over their head that was enough to give them bouts of shade from the blaring sun. The creek itself wide enough to separate the banks, but it looked to be shallow enough that they could travel across on horseback, or swim.
Tyronian dropped something on the ground, bringing her attention back to him.
“What are you doing?” she asked, watching him dropped so that he’s sitting on his heels an
d started pulling things out.
“I’m building a tent.”
“Why?”
He paused, his brow cocked. “What are tents for, Namoriee?”
“I mean why are you building a tent here?”
“Because we’re setting up camp here. See what ignoring me does? Your mind just can’t focus without my undying attention.”
She rolled her eyes, turning her back on him.
He laughed at her, the bastard.
Night came with a chill cold enough to be grateful for the fire, but not warm enough that you could be comfortable with a single blanket. After Tyronian made camp, he went into the creek and caught them dinner. They had finished the fish a little bit ago, and now Namoriee was staring sightlessly into the flames. Crickets, trickling water, and the soft pops of wood as it burned created the symphony of night.
It was comforting to her. Made it easy for her to get lost in her thoughts, but hard to escape the conflicting emotions within her.
She looked peaked at the man across from her. The fire made his dirty blonde hair flash with copper, and the shadows encompassing the side of his face made the soft, round, angles look sharp and cutting. The close-cut beard that he usually kept was growing out, becoming fuller by the three days growth. His lips would have been completely flat, if not for the bottom one which was just the right amount of plumpness that made them look delectable. They were lethal, able to make women–– and if she was perfectly honest with herself, her––swoon when they pulled back over his teeth in a smile. But what was most lethal about his mouth, was the skill he harbored. She had heard from various women, that they were expected to take the men’s member into their mouth, pleasuring them with their throat and tongue. Some had even recalled how their throat had flared sickness days after they did it, like they had swallowed knifes. But never once, had they mentioned that the men they laid with returned the favor. Yet…Tyronian has done it to her more than once. And she enjoyed it. Namoriee swallowed, her throat parched as she shifted uncomfortably against the wetness that gathered between her thighs.
What is wrong with you? Namoriee scolded herself. She shouldn’t think thoughts like these. She shouldn’t wonder when the next time he would lay with her, or when he would lick her. She shouldn’t want him to, but more importantly…she shouldn’t be adapting to her marriage this quickly. It was wrong for her to be happy. She needed to remember her promise.
“I know what you’re doing.”
Tyronian’s voice broke through the night so suddenly, it startled her. “W-what?” He finished securing the rope that attached to the sack of food to the tree before making his way to her.
“I know that you’re trying to distance yourself from me,” he told her, settling on the ground across from her. His gaze was as heated as the fire separating them. “It won’t work.”
She looked away, refusing acknowledge the truth in his words.
“Why won’t you give us a chance? Have I been so horrible to you that you rebel at the thought?”
She stared out into the darkness, remaining silent. She knew if she turned to look at him again, she would see the of hurt in his eyes that she heard in his voice and she couldn’t handle it. His stare was heady, she could feel it with the same certainty of the blanket around her shoulders. The silence stretched on between them, until she heard him sigh.
“Sooner or later you’ll learn that I’m not a monster, Namoriee.”
Could a man be a monster if you only saw his sweet side? Men like Xavier and Tristan, they were monsters. You could tell by looking them in the eyes, their demon unleashed and out in the open. She never considered Tyronian a monster. That was the problem.
“I never thought you were a monster,” she whispered, turning her head to him. “I could never think that, you’re too good.”
“I’m not good Namoriee, I’ve done horrible things.”
She shook her head, denying the truth he tried to confess to. “You might have done horrible things, but that doesn’t c-c-change the goodness in y-you. You d-deserve someone whose worth rivals yours. You deserve someone like Leawyn, someone who is strong, and fearless, and worthy.”
“You don’t think I have already?” he demanded, eyes flaring with emotion. Namoriee shook her head, tears gathering in her eyes.
“How could you?” she whispered. “I’m no one Tyronian. You can be chief someday—of two tribes no less! I dishonor you. You dishonored yourself. The sooner you realize that, the b-better.”
He didn’t reply right away, and instead studied her with an intensity that made Namoriee shift uncomfortably. “I remember the first time I ever laid eyes on you.”
Out of all the things Namoriee expected him to say, that was not one of them.
“I don’t expect you to remember, you were only three.” He turned away from her gaze, a faraway look on his face. “I was fourteen, and I was in the woods. I just finished bedding a woman for the first time.”
Namoriee’s nose scrunched in disgust.
“I heard crying. It was sudden and loud and enough for me to leave to investigate.” He turned back to her with a soft smile. “It was you.”
* * *
“Me?”
* * *
“You were so little,” Tyronian whispered quietly, his eyes focused over her shoulder. “You were dirty, and cold; I don’t know how long you were out there alone, but it was long enough.”
* * *
“W-what happened?” Namoriee prompted quietly when he didn’t continue.
* * *
“You turned around, and I saw you. It was like, suddenly, the solid ground I stood on crumbled. I picked you up, and I carried you home.”
* * *
He turned to look at her then, glazed eyes turning as fierce as she’s ever seen them. It made her chest tighten and for the hair on her body to stand on end. The air around them shifted, coiled, and then grew still. It was at that moment that Namoriee knew that whatever Tyronian said next was going to be important. Some piece of wisdom that the cosmos came alive for in its deliverance.
* * *
“I have watched you persevere even as the people of this tribe have tried to cripple you as much as your halting speech has. I’ve watched as life burdened you in your existence, but still you walked with your head held high. You’re more than you give yourself credit for, and it’s not you who is undeserving but me.
* * *
“We all have choices to make in life, we all have struggles. You’re wavering on ground that is crumbling, and I’m offering my hand to steady you, but you’re choosing to fall instead.”
* * *
“I don’t understand w-w-what you want from m-me,” Namoriee said, tears of frustration gathering in her eyes.
* * *
“I want you to stand!” he snapped. “I want you to stop hiding. I want you to stop feeling sorry for yourself. I want you to be the woman who raced to warn the Izayges of an attack. The one who stood up to the Chief because you didn’t want your friend to be hurt. I want you to give me a chance!”
* * *
Namoriee breathed in sharply, shocked. She looked down, not able to meet his eyes. She heard him move, and then he was there, lifting her chin.
* * *
“You think that I just decided to marry you because I’ve wanted you all this time?” he demanded, “well, you’re right. I do want you, but the thing you don’t understand is that I’ve always wanted you. You were mine since the very first moment I decided that the only time I could handle tears in your eyes, was when they were ones of happiness.”
* * *
Namoriee gasped against the power of those words taking hold of her heart and squeezing.
* * *
“How could you have possibly known that?” Namoriee asked helplessly, breathlessly.
* * *
His thumb brushed under her eye, like he knew she wanted to cry. "All I know is that you stole my eyes that day, and I never wanted them back. I just never
counted on you stealing my heart, too."
* * *
He cupped both of her cheeks, looking at her with near reverence. “All I’m asking for is a chance. I gave you two winters, Namoriee—I’m asking you for one. If nothing’s changed by then, I’ll do what you wanted from the beginning.”
* * *
“You’ll let me go?” she breathed, shocked. His expression darkened, a muscle twitching in his jaw, but he nodded once.
* * *
“I don’t believe you.”
* * *
His eyes flared. “You shouldn’t. My heart wants you more than it’s ever wanted anything else before—that makes me unpredictable. You can’t trust someone that’s unpredictable, but I want you to anyways.”
* * *
A winter. Half the amount of time that he promised he would wait to claim her, all those nights ago. He stayed true to his word, but now he’s asking her for hers. Can she give it to him? She searched his eyes, but all she saw reflecting in the orbs was determination, and longing.
* * *
“Okay,” she whispered finally. “I’ll give you—us—a chance. One winter.”
* * *
“One,” he agreed. Then, he swooped down and kissed her.
* * *
Underneath the stars he took her softly, and tenderly. He loved her body the way he wanted her to love his heart.
Namoriee sat hugging her knees to her chest, trying to stifle her cries. The birds continued to chirp, even though the sun was slowly starting to make its retreat. The forest floor was hard, and uncomfortable, but Namoriee couldn’t bring herself to move. Her legs had long since grown numb anyways. She wasn’t sure how long she has been hiding, it was probably long enough for her to get punished again, but she couldn’t go back. Not yet. Not until she was strong enough. A gust of wind came suddenly, causing Namoriee to shiver as it blew against her bare back and the wounds there, causing them to sting anew. She choked on another sob, hugging her legs tighter. Her head whipped in the direction that a twig snapped, stilling.