Pure Surrender

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by Aja James


  “Please, please, please…” she uttered incoherently, peppering desperate kisses along his jaw, down the column of his throat, before biting the side of his neck like a lioness in heat.

  He knew then that she couldn’t wait any longer, and neither could he.

  He took his fingers from her sheath and gripped the base of his staff, pulling it away from his abdomen and tilting it toward her core. At the same time, she levered up on tiptoe and canted her hips until her wet, slick entrance teased his cockhead for but a moment, before she slowly, meticulously lowered herself onto his length.

  Neither of them breathed as she swallowed him inch by thick, throbbing inch. They both stared down at the place of their joining, as her ravenous sex devoured his glistening hardness. Until he could go no further, pushed against something hard and needy inside her.

  “Oh gods,” she sobbed, pulsing around him, squeezing him relentlessly tight.

  And then she began to move.

  Heavens, how she moved!

  Her core milked him rhythmically. Tight, wet, silken heat.

  She rode him slow, driving him insane. But just when his patience was about to snap, she changed her speed and angle, swerving her hips every time she came down.

  She took him to the edge and back again, made a mockery of his fabled control, playing his body as if it was her own, making him close to losing it, only to thwart him with a gentle squeeze of his balls.

  All the while, she invaded his mouth, thrusting demandingly into him while she took him mercilessly below.

  His senses were overwhelmed, his body unraveling rapidly.

  He could only brace his hands on the rock beside his hips as she screwed herself tighter and tighter on his cock.

  “Yes,” she chanted into his mouth when he undulated his hips and clenched his buttocks in counterpoint to the rhythm of her ride, pulling back when she drew up, thrusting hard when she came down.

  “Yes, yes, yes…”

  And that was when she began to splinter apart, her entire body shaking to the tips of every extremity.

  One last time, she rose up and slammed back down, hard and fierce, swallowing his sex whole, and held there, as her core squeezed him so hard, stars danced behind his eyelids.

  He let go in that moment, flooding her womb with his seed, waves upon waves of it, thickly filling her inside, marking her as his.

  It would have been the most profound moment of his existence if not for the fact that their enervated bodies decided to give out all at once, and they both toppled from the rock in a convoluted heap, no telling where she began and he ended.

  Thankfully, the grass was thick and soft, and he was too blissed out to feel the jarring hardness of the ground beneath him, as well as the pain of his still healing wounds.

  Helplessly, they began to laugh, and she kissed him playfully all over his face, squirming a bit on his lap, his undying erection still fisted tightly within her body.

  “I guess I need to work on my dismount,” she murmured against his smiling lips.

  “But what if I don’t want to get off?”

  He looked up at her, smoothing her disheveled hair from her flushed, deliriously happy face, as she braced above him, still fully clothed, while he lay naked and well used beneath her.

  He didn’t know what she asked, but were it in his power to give her, he would, without hesitation.

  As if she found the answer she wanted in his eyes, she grinned widely and leaned down for another kiss.

  The movement made her squeeze his still swollen sex, and the friction dragged a moan of ecstasy from her lips.

  “You make me insatiable,” she whispered into his mouth, beginning to slowly ride him again.

  He was exhausted and sore, his body unused to such exertions, especially since he hadn’t even fully recovered from his wounds. But there was nothing he could deny her.

  His manhood knew who owned it. And when its master commanded it to harden and fill her with hot, molten pleasure, his cock obeyed of its own volition.

  Using the last of his strength, Cloud rolled until she was beneath him.

  And now, it was he who took her mouth and fed her soft, needy pussy his thick, steely cock.

  He pounded her hard and deep, then slow and long, making her feel every satiny, vein-wrapped inch of him.

  Until she clawed at his back and buttocks with desperate need, and cursed him colorfully in her rolling language.

  Stallion. Stud. Baby. Beautiful.

  Harder. Faster.

  Yun. Yun. Yun!

  Cloud smothered her shouts with his mouth as he gave her exactly what she wanted, plunging inside her over and over, each thrust deeper than the last.

  And finally, she tore her mouth away to latch onto his throat where his pulse jumped wildly beneath his skin. She came apart beneath him even as she clutched him with all her might, her voracious core pulling at his sex, milking his seed.

  He gave her everything she wanted. How could he not?

  This was what he was put on earth to do—to fill the woman in his arms with unbridled joy and ecstasy.

  At last, when their hearts returned to a semi-normal cadence, and their breaths settled into slow, deep draws, she said, “Now, will you tell me what your name means? I’m all out of guesses.”

  With impeccable timing, distant thunder rolled across the skies, as a strong wind pushed a cluster of dark clouds overhead.

  Cloud looked up and pointed to the heavens above them, then pointed to himself.

  “Yun,” she murmured with a smile of understanding.

  “Your name means Cloud.”

  “By creating my own dragon here on earth, I can keep it with me for as long as I want. Or so I believe, but have never tested the theory. First, I must gather all the ingredients in one single living vessel. But the child of my loins and the Tiger’s seed does not appear to be the one. What a disappointment the Boy is. A strange aberration to all Kinds. I must continue to have patience. If not him, then I will simply create more…”

  —From the secret journal of the Vampire Sorceress Circe

  Chapter Twelve

  With a gasp, Aella knifed into a sitting position and almost broke Cloud’s nose in the process by smashing the top of her head into his face.

  “Fuck,” he muttered, and shoved ungraciously away from her, leaving her on the cold, hard floor of the cavern, blinking rapidly with confusion.

  “Cloud,” she said, staring up at him with an unfocused gaze, wobbling weakly to her feet.

  He saw that healthy color was returning to her previously ashen face; she was looking her usual robust self now, if a bit frenzied in the eyes and soft in the knees.

  He gave a brief nod to acknowledge her and to convey that his work here was done.

  He needed to check on Eveline and do one last sweep of their perimeter before allowing himself to rest for the night. Half of it was gone already, given that he’d spent the last few hours taking care of Aella.

  Apart from her sudden loss of consciousness, the nosebleed, and the blackout she’d finally snapped out of, she suffered no physical injuries. He’d keep a close eye on her just in case, but she didn’t seem to require his immediate attention any more.

  In truth, he’d much prefer to get as far away from her as possible after his asinine capitulation to her request for a kiss.

  Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

  Her mental illness, pathological flirtatiousness, or whatever it was, was starting to affect him too. He should never have put his mouth on hers. It only worsened the tension and frustration in his body, sawing persistently at the ropes of his control. He could practically hear the fibers of his sanity snap taut and tear.

  She had always been an aggravation. And now she was a menace to his sense of self and inner peace.

  He wanted to throw something. Roar like a raging toddler at the top of his lungs. Punch the cavern walls until his knuckles were bloody and broken.

  She did that to him.

  He
couldn’t control it any more.

  As he turned to walk away, she reached out in a flash and grabbed his hand.

  “Cloud,” she said louder, with an urgency in her tone that made him look back at her.

  She was no longer staring at him with glazed eyes. Her gaze was sharp and intense, drilling meaningfully into his own.

  He looked down at her grip on his hand, trying to convey silently that he didn’t appreciate the contact and that she should let go, but she didn’t get the message. Either that, or she chose to ignore it.

  Because, if anything, she tried to pull him closer.

  “Your name is Cloud,” she stated with perplexing awe.

  Perhaps she was still delirious.

  “Yes,” he responded with the obvious, tugging more overtly at his hand.

  “That was your Chinese name too,” she whispered in that same reverent tone. “Zhao Yun. That was your name.”

  Cloud frowned. Both at her words and the sudden, shrieking headache that cleaved right down the middle of his head.

  “Don’t you remember?” she pressed on, tightening her grip on him until he felt the pressure in his bones.

  “Your previous incarnation. I don’t know how many you have had, but that was definitely one of them.

  “If it was, I don’t remember,” he said dismissively through clenched teeth.

  The headache was distorting his vision, and a shrill ringing buzzed in his ears.

  “How can you not remember?” she gasped in that same urgent tone, as if life and death depended on his recollection.

  Perhaps even her own life and death.

  “The way you dress. All these layers you wear. Your hair. The headband. Your mannerisms, even your chosen weapon and fighting style. It’s all part of your past life. Surely you recall. You must remember!”

  The words tumbled forth in rapid succession, one after another like a dam had broken. She barely took a breath to let it all out, and in the end, she became so frantic she was practically shouting at him.

  His headache grew exponentially worse.

  “It doesn’t matter,” he gritted out. “What business is it of yours what my past life or lives might have been? I don’t remember, nor do I want to. Leave it alone.”

  Leave me alone! He screamed internally.

  He felt like she was prodding and jabbing at a festering wound with a red hot poker. He wanted her to stop. He needed to regain his balance, damn it!

  “We knew each other,” she went on relentlessly, both her hands now holding onto him with a desperation that at once repulsed him and made his heart hurt.

  He wanted to shove her away from him, but he also wanted to hold onto her tightly and never let go.

  “In the year one hundred and ninety, we met on the Scythian border. I was human then, and so were you. I fought with you. You won. I kissed you, and you kissed me back. Don’t you remember?” she said in a rush without pausing for breath, as if she was afraid he’d interrupt and not let her finish.

  He shook his head and tried to pry her fingers from his forearm.

  He desperately needed to get away!

  “Three years later, we met again. I found you near death on the edge of Gansu Province. I brought you back to the Amazon stronghold with me. We healed you. We—”

  “Enough!” he boomed, his control shredded into inconsequential bits.

  Her mouth fell open at his outburst, and she barely had time to gulp and gasp when he jerked her forward, swung her around and slammed her against the nearest stone wall.

  With his face an inch away from hers, he bore down on her like a wrathful thundercloud, about to fry her into a crisp with well-aimed lightning bolts.

  “Stop pushing me. Stop touching me. Stop trying to make me remember things I have no intention of remembering,” he growled low and feral, in a voice he’d never used before.

  He was all instinct in this moment. Primal, basic instinct.

  He only sought to protect himself, like a wild animal that was trapped and backed into a corner.

  “I don’t know you,” he told her clearly. “I don’t want to know you. Whoever you think you knew, that person no longer exists in me. Maybe you never knew that person at all. Maybe you’ve mistaken me for someone else. I don’t give a shit. I’m not playing your game.”

  “It’s not a game!” she protested, her hands involuntarily reaching out to his chest.

  He gripped both her wrists before she could make contact and pinned them against the wall over her head.

  “Don’t. Touch. Me.”

  “Cloud…” she half whimpered, half sobbed.

  “Save your tears,” he told her dispassionately.

  Even though something splintered apart inside at the sight of them.

  “I know what you want. What you’ve always wanted from me.”

  He ground his lower body against her belly, his unbidden erection hard and throbbing, and it was all he could do to hold back from pounding it into her, dry humping her where they stood, to feel some small measure of relief.

  But he knew it wouldn’t be enough to douse the flames and stop the agony.

  It would never be enough.

  “You like to fuck, and you like the chase. I’ve seen you toy with more males than I can count over the past three years. I’m not blind. I’m not stupid. And I’m sure as hell not a notch on your belt or a scratch on your wall. Whatever you think might happen between us is never going to happen. Because like you said yourself— I. Don’t. Like. You. I have more control than to fuck someone I don’t even fucking like!”

  Fuck!

  He was totally losing it! With every word he could feel himself imploding.

  The worst of it was—beneath the fury and frustration, beneath the aggravation and dislike, a soul-deep pain was ravaging him from the inside out.

  Heavens, how he hurt!

  It was tearing him apart!

  Because even though he didn’t have the memories, he couldn’t escape the feelings. Feelings far deeper than those accumulated over the last three years that he’d known her.

  He didn’t want them.

  He didn’t need them.

  He wanted numbness, tranquility and control.

  Aella represented the opposite of everything he stood for.

  “Stay away from me,” he warned her one last time, releasing her wrists and pushing away from the wall.

  “The past has no place in my present or future. And neither do you.”

  *** *** *** ***

  Aella was still staring at the spot Cloud vacated long after he’d gone.

  What just happened?

  She was certain, down to the deepest well of her soul, that this current version of Cloud was the Zhao Yun she’d known almost two thousand years ago in her human life.

  Physically, he was a completely different male. Taller, broader, with mixed Slavic features, not the least of which were his startling blue eyes.

  But his mannerisms were so similar. The way he dressed, his long, black hair, the way he held himself, his coolness, impassivity and calm.

  Well, not just now. He was rather stirred up just now.

  She’d finally gotten a reaction out of him. Not quite the positive emotions she was aiming for, but she’d take them nonetheless.

  Whether it was fury, passion, lust or aggravation—or all of the above—she’d take them over cold indifference any day.

  Slowly, she sank down against the wall to the cold, hard ground. She leaned her head back and closed her eyes with a shaky exhale.

  He didn’t remember her at all, and didn’t want to. But something from their past was breaking through.

  Or, she simply pushed him too far.

  She knew she’d hurt him when they parted. It was her greatest regret across the whole of her existence. What she wouldn’t give to make a different choice…

  Ultimately, she’d decided to be selfish. She left everything she’d ever known, on pain of death, to chase after him.

  B
ut by then, it was too late.

  She’d missed her only chance…

  193 A.D. Altai Mountains, Amazon stronghold.

  They made their way from the lake back to Aella’s yurt even slower than the original journey.

  Part of it was exhaustion and noodly limbs (multiple, prolonged, intense sexual release tended to do that to a body); part of it was simply because they wanted to take their time, hand in hand, to enjoy the cool night air and revel in each other’s presence.

  Cloud had heard the human term “love” bantered around, more in other cultures than his own, for Han people didn’t talk about “ai” either openly or in private. The words “I love you” were very rarely spoken, if ever. He’d certainly never heard it in his own language, not between husbands and wives, nor between family members and friends.

  But he knew the concept of it. It must be similar to this “attachment” he felt toward Aella. But it was different too.

  How could one word or one concept ever encompass everything he felt?

  She was his heaven. His personal, private heaven.

  She was his mate, eternal and true.

  She was the only one he’d ever be inside, and the only one he’d ever let inside of him. Physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually.

  He could never imagine, not even for one moment, sharing what they’d just shared with another living being.

  He was irrevocably attached.

  No matter his form, no matter the time and place, he would always be only hers.

  But when they arrived at her yurt, he discovered all too soon that it wasn’t the same for her.

  “Katiari,” Aella said as she stepped first into the tent, and made a gesture of respect.

  “Arpada,” the woman seated in the largest fur-covered chair greeted in return.

  At her side were two armed Amazon warriors. The healer was also present, standing a little in the background with her hands clasped in front of her.

  “To what do I owe this visit, my queen?” Aella asked directly. “It is very late.”

  Cloud did not understand their words, but he heard from Aella’s tone that she was tense and perhaps apprehensive.

 

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