“I’ve wanted to know how you taste since I first set eyes on you.”
“You have?” She swallowed heavily.
The corners of his mouth tilted up. “Oh, yes, I have.” He blew on her core, making her cry out. It was too much but not enough.
She wanted more but was almost afraid. Having sex with Zaxe would change her forever.
He leaned forward and inhaled. She bit her lip to keep from screaming. Tired of waiting, she gripped his hair and tugged him closer, drawing a deep chuckle. “Impatient, are you?”
“You have no idea,” she muttered. She was going to self-combust any moment. Then he flicked his tongue over her clit, setting off fireworks inside her body. “Yes. More.” Anything. Everything.
The growling sound he made vibrated through her core. Her breath caught in her throat. Every muscle in her body tightened.
“So damn sweet.” He lapped at her, teasing and stimulating her clit, driving her to the edge of madness. When he dipped one thick finger into her, everything exploded.
She shoved her hand over her mouth to smother her cries of release. The last thing she wanted was someone to hear her cries and rush into the room. They’d likely end up dead because she’d kill them if they made Zaxe stop.
Zaxe didn’t let up on the sensual torture, continuing to use his fingers and mouth to push her to the very brink and beyond. Heat flooded through her, leaving her damp and yearning for more. The air in the room hurt her sensitized skin. She shivered and shook as her climax rocked her, but she wasn’t sated. An emptiness, a longing for more had her tugging on his shoulders.
Zaxe surged up and over her. Fitting the head of his broad shaft to her opening, he thrust hard and deep.
****
Take it slowly. He tried to listen to the sensible voice in his head, but it was overridden by the greedy one that screamed, More. More. More! Her wet heat closed around his cock, squeezing it hard as he sank into her depths. She was tight, much tighter than he’d expected.
She whimpered, the slight sound bringing him to a grinding halt. It wasn’t one of pleasure, but pain. “Jamaeh.” The harsh tone of his voice made her flinch slightly.
A muscle in her jaw tightened, and she gave him a curt nod. “I’m okay.”
Those were words no man wanted to hear while making love to a gorgeous woman. She’d come, was wet, and more than ready, but it was a snug fit.
An insane thought popped into his head and out of his mouth. “You’ve done this before, right?” She couldn’t be a virgin, could she?
“Not really.” The grim edge to her words flayed him.
“What in the name of Melton and his fiery hell?” He started to pull out, but she twined her strong legs around him and wouldn’t let go.
“You started this, don’t stop.” Her green eyes were fierce. A hot rush of color rose on her cheekbones and spread over the rest of her face.
He took her face in his hands. “You should have told me.”
“Why?”
“Why? Why?” Was she serious? “So I could have taken my time. Gone slower.” Jamaeh was a virgin. No other man had touched her this intimately. It shouldn’t matter. It didn’t matter. Yet, a part of him reveled in being the one and only, the one she’d chosen.
“Technically, I wasn’t a virgin since I’ve pleasured myself before.”
That thought was going to keep him awake at nights. Sweat broke out on his body. The idea of her touching herself almost made the top of his head blow off. That was something he wanted, no needed, to see. His cock flexed, drawing a moan from them both. “It’s not the same,” he managed to get out.
“No, it’s not.” The softness and wonder in her tone spread over him, cooling his frustration and anger with himself. “This is so much better.” The tips of her fingers stroked over his back and down his arms. She made a little humming noise when she squeezed his bicep.
Honor might dictate that he walk away but she wanted this as much as he did. He’d claimed her. She’d claimed him. There was a tinge of concern. He understood the cultural norms. And while purity in a bride was prized among the upper class on Zaxus, among the working class, things were not quite so strict.
I’ll take care of her.
No matter what happened, he’d make sure she had enough resources to take care of herself. Pain struck his chest, clamping his heart in a fist.
“Zaxe?” She cupped his face, concern in her expressive green eyes. “Are you okay? We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.” She bit her bottom lip. “I really didn’t think it would be a big deal to you. Most men wouldn’t care.”
“I’m not most men.” He pulled back and thrust inward, letting her feel the full length of him. Hearing her speak of other men made his blood boil.
“I know.” Pushing up, she rubbed her nose against his. The playful gesture caught him totally off guard and made him smile. “That’s why I’m here.”
“You won’t regret it.” That was one vow he could keep. “I’ll make this good for you.”
“You already have.”
His throat tightened as the honesty of her words sank into him. “Jamaeh.” There was so much he wanted to say, wanted to tell her. Swallowing hard, he began to move, a light rocking back and forth, easing in and out of her, allowing her body time to accustom itself to the new situation.
He need not have worried. Like everything else she’d faced since he’d met her, she threw herself into the experience. Tentatively at first, but with more confidence as they continued. She raised her legs higher, angling herself so his pelvis brushed against her mound with each stroke.
“That’s good.” Breathless, she scraped her nails down his back and grabbed his butt.
“Like that, do you?” How could he still talk with his balls threatening to explode?
“Yes.” She ground her mound against him and gave a low groan. Her inner muscles constricted, her wet heat clutching his cock. The muscle in his jaw pulsed as he desperately tried to hang on until she came again.
Keeping his strokes short and hard, he shoved a hand under her plump ass and guided her. She threw her head back, her eyes screwed shut, her lips parted on a silent scream.
His orgasm exploded, ripping up from his balls and out the tip of his shaft. The world went hot and white, like a pulse from a laser blast. It tore through him faster than the speed of light. It was like being shot into deep space—the lights speeding by, the lack of control, the rush of excitement.
He collapsed on top of her, all his energy sucked from his body. A sense of peace enfolded him as he lay there wondering what in the name of Melton had just happened. He’d had sex before and this wasn’t it. This was far beyond anything he’d ever encountered. It should have worried him.
Protect.
The voice was low and clear. The mission set. Until he understood exactly what was happening between them, Jamaeh was his to protect. He’d just keep that little tidbit to himself, otherwise, she’d likely boot him out the door.
She was pricklier than a needle vine on the planet Crebia. That plant was strong, almost impossible to root out once it took hold, and defended itself with sharp thorns.
His lips curved into a smile. He doubted she’d like the comparison, but it fit.
Beneath him, she was sucking in air, or trying to. He had to be crushing her. It took an effort, but he heaved himself off her, both of them groaning as their bodies disconnected. Lying on his stomach, he turned his head so he could watch her. Her skin was flushed, her lips swollen. How much had she bitten them to keep from screaming?
Resentment stirred, but he shoved it away. He would not taint this moment with regrets, but she deserved a plush bed with silk sheets, flowers, and a warm bath. He might not be able to provide a tub, but he could clean her up.
He counted to three, gathered his strength, and pushed off the bed. Her eyes flew open. “Where are you going?”
“Not far.” He padded across the room, retrieved a basin of clean water and the
cloth, and returned.
“What are you doing? The slightly sated and sleepy gleam in her eyes was replaced with uncertainty.
“Don’t you trust me?” He’d meant it to be lighthearted and teasing, but there was a serious undertone that she couldn’t miss.
She glanced aside but nodded. Not exactly a ringing endorsement, but he’d take it. He set the basin down and set about the most pleasurable task of cleaning her. “Let me take care of you.” It was a fundamental need that stirred deep in his soul. Not waiting for her agreement, he started at her face, drawing the cloth over her forehead and cheeks.
With a sigh, she relaxed on the bed. “That feels good. It’s stuffy in here.”
He’d open the windows and prop open the door when they were done. He wasn’t ready to be done with this special time alone. Her neck was slender and delicate. Her shoulders were strong, her arms muscled. It surprised and pleased him that she lay there and let him do as he wished.
Her breasts came next, the nipples tight and begging to be kissed. After dragging the cloth over both, he leaned down and kissed one and then the other. She moaned and arched upward.
“There’s not enough time.” The regret sat heavy on him.
“I know. Doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy it.”
This was a woman used to grabbing small moments of pleasure when she could and appreciating them. In that, they were matched. His upbringing had taught him the value of cherishing such times.
Wringing out the cloth again and again, he wiped the sweat from her torso and legs before delving between them to clean away the evidence of their lovemaking. There was no blood, for which he was grateful. She was an active woman who’d never had a lover but had seen to her own needs. Because of that, she’d found pleasure in their lovemaking.
When he was done, he rinsed the cloth and dragged it over his face. “Let me.” Jamaeh kneeled up on the mattress, took the rag from his unresisting hand, and wiped it across his neck.
Everything inside him stilled. No other woman had ever tended him before. After sex, he’d always taken himself away before finding a gel cleansing unit or water. This was a first.
She licked her lips as she cleaned his chest, teasing his nipples as he had with her. He wanted to kiss those plump lips, but that would lead to more lovemaking. His cock flexed in joyous agreement, but his head cautioned that someone would be coming for them soon.
Her tongue flicked over a flat nipple, drawing a deep groan. He didn’t tell her to stop. He didn’t have to. As he had with her, she moved on, cleaning his stomach and legs before returning to his cock.
“You’re still hard.” The wonder in her voice almost broke his resolve, but there was only time for a quick fuck, and this was all new to her. She was too tender for that.
“You inspire me.” The smile she gave him made the pain in his balls and the discomfort worth it.
“Really?” She lightly stroked the cloth over his turgid length.
He caught her hand, stopping her before he came in her hand. “Really.” Dropping a quick kiss on her sweet mouth, he stood and drew on his battlesuit. Fastening it wasn’t easy with his dick getting pinched. He kept his gaze off Jamaeh as he pulled on the rest of his clothes.
She gave a soft sigh, climbed off the bed, and dressed. When she was done, he took her in his arms and hugged her. “I wish we could stay in bed,” he whispered. “I wish I could hold you all day and night and love you again.” She should have had that, should have demanded it. Did she think this was nothing more than sex for him?
She softened against him for an all-too-brief moment before pushing away. “We should drink all the water and eat something. We don’t know how late the feast will be.”
He understood her need to get things back on an even keel, but that didn’t mean he liked it. After strapping on his weapons and straightening the covers on the bed, he grabbed the basin and returned to the table where she was already unpacking the food that had been brought to them.
After he’d gotten rid of the basin, he cupped her chin. “This isn’t over.” The kiss was possessive and hard, his tongue staking a claim. She grabbed the front of his shirt and tugged him closer, both of them losing themselves one final time.
When they parted, he pulled the emotional and mental cloak of assassin around him. It was the only way he could get through this and protect her.
All expression drained from her face. She gave him a nod and pointed at the table. “Let’s eat.”
Chapter Thirteen
The feast was in full swing, the women on one side of the fire, the men on the other. Jamaeh watched Zaxe through the dancing flames, drawn to him like a bee to a flower. She took a sip of sweet mint tea to hide her smile. Or maybe it was the other way around. He was more bee than flower, ready to sting if attacked.
Sitting cross-legged on a woven mat, she pushed away the empty bowl in front of her. “You have had enough?” an older woman named Saria asked.
“Yes, thank you. It was delicious.” The stew had been rich with spices, the broth thick and hearty, which she’d sopped up with spicy flatbread. Their hosts certainly hadn’t held back on the meal, even though they’d likely dipped into their precious food resources.
She understood pride, the need to put a good face forward. “How long have you lived here?”
The older woman pushed a strand of graying black hair behind one ear. “Too long.” She peered up at the stars twinkling in the night sky. “Twenty years. After the death of the last ruler.”
That was interesting. It was ingrained in her not to ask questions. If she did, that opened the door for others to ask them of her in return, but she couldn’t stop herself. “Why did you leave?”
“Lomar Zaxurus is not the leader his older brother was.”
When she said no more, Jamaeh carefully prompted, “I have no memory of Dagmar Zaxurus.”
The woman patted her hand. “You are young. Why should you worry about such things? They are in the past and better left there.”
Respecting the woman’s wishes, she looked over at Zaxe again and found him looking at her.
“Your young man keeps a close eye on you.”
It seemed incomprehensible that anyone would call him a young man. The weight of the ages seemed to rest upon his shoulders. “It’s not like that with us.” No matter how much she wished it might be.
The woman frowned, and Jamaeh tensed, waiting for disapproval. A woman did not travel with men not of her family or not intended for her husband. The trading caravans were used to her. And if they didn’t exactly accept her, they tolerated her, accepting payment to join the safety of their group when she traveled and traded. These people didn’t know her. Then the old woman finally shrugged. “Whoever he is to you, he guards you as the hawk does his prey.”
Did he really? Every time she looked in his direction, he was usually involved in a discussion with the other men, one she should have a part in. “Excuse me.” She rose and dusted off the seat of her pants before striding around the fire. Behind her, the women began to whisper. How brazen she must seem to them. It was pure desperation. They had no idea how lucky they were in their way. Their male family members looked out for them. But she had a freedom they’d never have and many of them envied it.
Why did it have to be one way or the other when something in the middle would benefit all?
The group of men watched her arrival, some of them scowling, others seeming bemused. Qasim offered a greeting, “Come join us.”
Zaxe, who had risen as she’d approached, waved her to the mat he’d been sitting on. With a polite nod, she took it.
“It is not seemly for a woman to interrupt men’s conversations,” one man protested.
She crossed her legs, rested her elbows on her knees, and fixed her cloak around her before answering. “I mean no disrespect, but why is it unseemly if the woman should be involved in the conversation?”
Zaxe lowered himself beside her, sitting so closely his body brushed hers. Th
e heat from his arm seemed to burn through the layers of her clothes. Beneath her shirt, her nipples puckered. The darkness was hopefully enough to hide the hint of a blush on her face. If any noticed, they’d likely assume it came from sitting so closely to the fire and not from her attraction to the man beside her.
“Your father or brother should speak for you. An uncle,” he protested.
The argument was an old familiar one. “I have no father.” At least not one she’d claim. “My brother is younger, and I am searching for him. I have no uncles or cousins. What should I do? Shut myself inside and never venture out? I would have starved to death years ago.”
The man shifted on his mat, uncomfortable with her reply. He looked around him, searching for support, but finding only other questioning gazes. He finally threw his hands up. “It is still not right.”
“There is much not right in the world,” Qasim interjected, giving the man out. “We have all of us adapted over the years, doing what we must.
Zaxe’s silence surprised her. She’d expected him to speak up on her behalf. Her stomach clenched, making the food she’d eaten churn uneasily. Why would he? They had no connection other than their mutual goal. Oh, and they’d had sex. Her battles weren’t his.
His hand pressed over hers and gently squeezed. She glanced up, surprised to see the approval and pride stamped on his face. She sat a little straighter and then cursed herself for it. Why should she care what he thought? A quick tug and she had her hand in her lap. Then she missed the heat and reassurance of his.
What is wrong with me?
Her emotions had gone up and down since this afternoon. Or more precisely, since she’d met Zaxe. Everything in her life had been so straightforward up to that point. She knew who she was and what she had to do in order to survive. Now everything had changed and she was struggling to find her footing.
“You were about to tell me where I might find Helldrick?” Zaxe’s question had her head snapping back up. Time to pay attention. Her brother’s future was at stake. Not to mention her own.
“There is no finding him.” Qasim picked up the wooden mug and sipped his tea. The steam rose around his face, given him an otherworldly quality. The crackle of the flames was the only noise as all the other men had fallen silent. Even the women and children had ceased to chatter, all of them interested in the ongoing conversation. “He is always moving, never staying in one spot for long. I expect he will discover the massacre in the valley and send some of his men here to discover what we know. Then you will be able to question them.”
Zaxe's Rule (Assassins of Gravas Book 4) Page 12