by Mima
She couldn’t wait anymore. “I can take much more of you.” She tried to lift her hips, but she had no strength in this position. None.
He slid gently back and forth, barely swaying in her, his hips too far from hers, his bush not even brushing her mound.
“Look at me, Donte.”
He continued to ignore her pleas, his head hanging down. He began to withdraw.
“I can take all of you, just push on my belly, change the angle. Please, Donte.”
His body barely moved as it backed out of her, no matter how hard she seized with her internal muscles.
He stepped off the bed again and for the first time, she tensed, unable to accept the height his play had risen to. “It hurts, Donte. I need.”
He untied one of her feet.
She planted it and canted her hips up, begging in one long babbling breath. “Please now, yes, please.”
He untied the other, but she only strained to spread her taut thighs wider.
“I’ll wrap them around you so tight, come into me, yes, now.”
He put both hands on the tops of her thighs. The new touch struck her and she cried out, low and short. His grip slid down to her knees, then his fingers tightened, and lifted.
Drawing her knees up, she moaned softly, understanding. He folded her legs and continued to lift, pushing her thighs higher, lifting her ass. He sank into her channel again at the same moment her knees made contact with her breasts. But still he didn’t sink far enough. Her pussy writhed and pulled at his cock, but her clit stayed untouched, pulsing.
His body pushed down on hers with more weight. One of his palms slid from the back of her knee up her calf, straightening her leg, drawing it back. He tied her ankle to her wrist with efficiency, the thin lacing he used cutting into her skin.
“Oh, dear Earthmother’s rich roots, oh, Donte.”
He did the same with the other leg, pushing her leg up and back until she folded in half, legs split in a wide vee, hips propped high. It was absolutely the most decadent, carnal position she’d ever been in. Immobile, body primed and thrumming with eagerness from hours of his face against her valley, she rolled her head back and forth, hair sticking to her face and throat.
He slid out of her in a rush.
“Ahhh, no, please, I beg you, mate. Please take me, fill me.”
“Moriko.”
His voice was low and shocking.
She froze. “Donte,” she whispered.
His cock scalded the indentation of her ass.
“Dear Father of Cold Stars…”
He drove into her, but all she could do was strangle on the pleasure-pain. It was hard to breathe with her belly bearing the weight of her legs. It was harder to breathe with Donte in her ass.
He paused, withdrawing until his rim caught on her clamped, searing ring. His hands gripped the underside of her thighs and this time he stroked all the way in, a huge crushing heat that attached to her spine.
Grunting softly, he thrust with incredible strength, sealing his hips to her spread cheeks. Her ass sparked and flamed, stretched beyond her experience. It was so good. So wild and hard. The only thing missing was—
His hips left and returned with a stinging strike.
Fast.
She screamed and he went off, his body heaved, groaning and grunting, piling inside her while she struggled to breathe. Unable to move, to close her legs, to touch him, all she could do was absorb the power of his muscular body pummeling hers. His palms slid along her legs, stopping on the muscle of her calves, stretching him out over her, his face now above hers, his weight choking her.
The tattoo loomed down as if it would devour her. She locked gazes with him and took the full force of his body. His narrowed dark gaze screamed in pain, but as she watched beneath his undulating shoulders, the pleasure swelled and swallowed all of it. She watched him come, his jaw sagging, nose flaring, eyes flickering. Licking her lips and tasting tears, she swallowed down her joy at being his witness.
Eventually he stopped rocking on her and the pain in her ass flared hard, catching her breath. He sighed, drawing in his slack form and pulling away. And still her need howled and snarled for finish. Coming forward on his knees, he pushed the hood up from her clit and bent over her. His mouth closed, again with gentleness she’d never dreamed of. He worked her clit around with his lips until he found the spot that made her jerk and seize.
Then he sucked. Pausing, he waited, and she thought she would die, her whole body straining toward that single point. He sucked again and this time he didn’t stop, giving quick short swallows with his warm slick mouth. She bloomed. It wasn’t an easing, or snap-back release. It wasn’t a sharp burst of pleasure, like she expected. Her skin expanded, and every inch knew the touch of air, the heat of him or her, the breeze, the sweaty cloth beneath her. Her ankles with the bite of pain, her aching wrists where she pulled, her stretched ass still feeling the fire.
He sucked fast and steady and even though the first orgasm lingered in a shining mystery, she came again. This one took her shattered mind and tossed it into the sky like a dove. She stopped breathing and the light wrapped around her. Her spirit burst wide. He licked over her and she began to cry.
He untied her, lying her legs down and soothing her thighs with a burst of bodycraft. Stunned, body wracked by residual shivers, she panted softly, watching him. Her arms he arranged next to her, bending to kiss her tattoo again, a brush of lips and a flicker of tongue. Her whole body shone. She was a magelight, so burstingly full of emotion she might glow a gentle cool gold at any second.
Kneeling by her side, he pressed his face in the center of her, below her breasts, curling one arm across her belly. His shoulders began to shake.
One arm was trapped beneath his knees, but the other she dragged up to rest on his stiff hair. She massaged her fingers down to his scalp and gave him soothing touches. His body flexed with deep breaths. When he started, she wasn’t surprised.
He screamed into her body again and again without making a sound.
There were so few times in her life she’d been made love to. This had been a tribute he didn’t know how to put into words, with the weight of his vengeance sitting on him and the horror he’d survived. This was the wreckage of Donte’s softness, crushed and silenced. The tears continued to leak from her eyes and still the peace he’d given her glowed within.
The harsh drawn breaths he sucked in sounded broken and the long, hot gush of silent air scalded her, rattled her ribs. Loving her wasn’t something he’d been prepared for. There were a thousand reasons he deserved to scream. That she was the aspect that drove him to this point gave her so much joy. She wanted to be his greatest anguish. Always. That was a power that should belong only to her.
Working her nails across his nape, toying with the strong beginning of his spine, she stared out at the blurry stars gathered over the murmuring ocean. His turmoil brought a sad, bitter smile to her lips. He was full of plans and pain, full of hate and anger, but her husband had just discovered love. She could grow this.
When he finally ended up facing his darkmages, thinking they’d both fall, she now had another weapon on top of a Bond and lust. She’d been born plotting. Besides, no one tossed aside a Royal Princess, especially for a shabby reason like killing the leader of the darkmages trying to take over the world.
Chapter Twenty
Night Five
He dozed a few times, but mostly he stared at the stars, wondering at the beauty of this woman pressed against him. Moriko held him until dawn crept to the western horizon, painting her room with lemon light to match her scent. Her sheets were soft and the mattress firm, her body warm while the breeze cooled. He’d never been so comfortable in all his life, every muscle at rest.
But his mind rolled through shards from the fortress, flinging random sickening memories like dagger-darts. She hadn’t said a word about his fit, hadn’t poked or questioned. She wrapped him up tight and slept. At one point, her breath came snuff
ling and loud and his lips had pressed into one of his almost-smiles. He thought only babes slept that hard. But then his princess worked. She’d known every name in that hall, their families and their jobs. He knew what this place and its people meant to her. And how she was losing it because of Signy.
At first light, she stretched, sighing, running her fingertips lightly across him in a sleepy relaxed way. He didn’t know what to do with the pleasure she created. It was too strange. She led him to the baths and to his surprise, Avis came in while they were still in the water.
Watching Moriko take on the mantle of Chatelaine was amazing. He’d seen portions of her mind’s power and her reach when she organized the aftermath of his first attack and yesterday as she mingled. But today, the array of messages she took in and responded to dazzled him, and then came requests, followed by an altering of a ‘morning’ schedule that would have ground the feet of any warrior to stumps.
She took reports regarding the wedding—general support, the deceased from the fealty ceremony—shock and anger, and the captured—disgust and uncertainty. Throughout it all, she bathed, rinsed, dried, and dressed. He, with some humor, did the same.
Until Avis’s neatly braided head bowed over her sheaf of notes and said, “There is another thing. The Queen has placed the heads of all the darkmages Donte killed on the outer compound Wall. The Temple lodged a formal complaint and she sent a public rebuke, fining them a thousand gold pieces.” The woman hunched her shoulders, pulling the notes into her chest. “Why would she do that, My Lady?”
Donte scowled at her.
She caught his gaze and squeaked, stepping back.
Moriko whirled on him, her sturdy day gown in deep green swirling around her knees. He pursed his lips, but shifted his gaze from the assistant.
“How dare she!” Cupping her chin, Moriko strode back and forth, her half-braided hair swinging across one shoulder. “I’ll tell you why she did it. To taunt the darkmages. To infuriate them and call them out.” Moriko whirled again, fists on hips. “She’s making you into a target.” Stalking up to him, she stabbed him in the chest with one stiff finger. “Did you plan this with her?”
“I did not.” He took her finger and kissed the tip, but she did not smile.
Snatching it back she jabbed him again. “You knew of this! A Royal by one day and already you have your own information routes.”
He stood against her adorable temper. “It’s why they allowed me to stay.”
She threw her hands up. Stalking to a stool set against the wall, she snatched it up and plunked it in the middle of the floor. “I haven’t had my morning sex. Avis, return in five minutes.”
“Yes, Moriko.” She hurried out.
“Five minutes?” He shook his head. “Haven’t I taught you anything yet?”
She hiked her skirts up to her waist, and pulled down the underwear she’d just put on. “I’m on a schedule. People get agitated if I’m late. I need to be able to focus today.”
Turning, she bent over the stool, laying her forearms across the top and curling her fingers over the far edge. She widened her legs as far as her underwear at her knees would allow. “Come here.”
Her round ass was too distracting. He walked around in front of her. “You’re serious?”
She reached for his laces, just tied. “I told you I need sex often. All day. Twice before lunch, and at least one quickie in the afternoon. I can’t sleep without it.”
“And you take different men each time?”
She glanced up at him from beneath her lashes. “You could set boundaries. No penetration. Mouths only, perhaps.” Her tricky hand curled around him and lifted him from the snug fit of his pants.
“Or you could wait until I could join you.”
She stopped. “Just take me, Donte.” Her breath blowing across his erection lifted the hairs on his arms.
He cupped her chin. “You will not have sex today, Moriko.”
She stood, her dress falling around her legs. He heard her swallow.
All the impatient tension in her voice disappeared. A confident, mature woman faced him, solid in herself. “This is no game of playful dominance. If you deny me this, you are hobbling me, weakening my ability to work. I will defy you. Either find a way to be with me, find a way to support my sexuality, or we will have our first fight.”
His half-hard cock sprang into a full, hot erection. Fuck, she was sexy. So, she was serious. “You find other men attractive.”
“I find other men satisfying, although nowhere near the fulfillment I reach with you.” She folded her arms. “What if I told you not to kill any darkmages today?”
He scoffed. “Not the same thing.”
“No, but similar. I need this Donte. Just like you could not hold back and watch some pale form of justice, I cannot pass through the day with my body growing hotter, softer, tighter. Every assessing look I take is like a lash across the face. Every time someone argues with me, challenging my opinion and management, it’s like a punch in the gut. And if this was you, you’d hit back. That’s not my way. I turn it all inside. I take the pain and bend it into pleasure and let it leak away.”
He stood facing her and heard Avis’ footsteps in the hall. “I’d never deny you pleasure. But you can indulge by yourself. I will try to come to you at midmorning, midmeal, and midafternoon. I can’t promise. Will you be able to wait?”
Her gaze flickered, dimmed. “It depends on how hard the day was. But if I go back to our room soon enough, I might, might be able to last until you return, remembering last night.”
He didn’t quite understand her fear, but it was real. “Bend over the stool.”
She did, and he came into her, the softness taking his breath for a moment. He tossed his head, staring at the ceiling. She moaned, hips working back against him. In a handful of strokes he found his rhythm, but she groaned, stiffened, and sagged, finished before he even started. “That’s good. Very good.”
How she was off him, he scarcely knew, but he stood blinking as she fixed her underwear and plunked the stool into place along the wall. Turning, she stopped, staring at him.
Anger spread down his thighs. “All done, are you?”
She nodded jerkily. “Thank you.”
He crammed his damp, shrieking cock into his pants, holding her gaze while he laced them up. She wasn’t flushed, wasn’t pale, her hair now in two neat braids tight to her skull. He walked over to the supply chest and took up a brush with a thick, tapering handle. “I’m glad you’re done with me and I remembered I’ll be busy today. Since all you need is a tool, here, use this.” He took her hand and slapped the brush into it. “I’ll kill any man or woman you touch sexually, so take that into consideration for your schedule. Good day.”
Avis hovered in the doorway, peeping around the edge with one giant blue eye. “Oh, and another thing. Since fidelity doesn’t matter to you, only to me, I’ll be sure to make use of my own tools whenever I think of you fondly.” He yanked the woman’s smaller frame against him, leaned down and kissed her. He made sure they stood in profile, made sure he held Avis’ bony hips against him, so his mate had a good view of the woman’s slender form mashed tight to his. He kissed her with lots of tongue, until her neck softened and sagged so much he was obliged to catch her skull in his palm.
He stepped back from her, gave a trux bow to the princess with slitted, glittering eyes, and stalked down the hall. He needed to kill, and soon.
At the second corner, a woman stood leaning against the wall. Her open robe revealed a flawless body without mark, all smooth flowing feminine muscle. “Oh, dear,” she purred. “Trouble in the hallowed marriage bed so soon?” She caressed one nipple.
He never broke his stride, but she spun into his path so skillfully he had to grab her shoulders to keep them both from tumbling to the floor. She was plastered to him. When he shoved her back, her fingers cocked into claws and gouged his sides, wove into the open laces at the sides of his vest.
He growled
through his teeth. “Let go.”
She laughed, throaty, head falling back. “You’re the mighty warrior. I’m sure you could get away if you wanted to.” She rubbed her tits all over him. Her scent was almonds and anise. Sickening.
He gauged her face and placed her as Moriko’s sister. If Bear was here, he’d rip her hair out. The malice she emanated made him test the darkspell, but she wasn’t a darkmage.
“Are you heading out to kill? I find you absolutely thrilling, you know. But, however will the executioner be able to concentrate when the whole castle knows his wife is fucking every other—”
He head-butted her. She stumbled back with a gurgle, eyes stunned. Her arms went lax and she lost her grip on his vest. Stepping around her, he kept walking. In moments her screeches brought people running past, and as he cleared the baths and headed toward the guard house, more feet came running up behind him.
“My Lord Donte! Is it true you attacked Princess Akisa?”
Donte stopped, pivoting to face the two guards and one Royal who stood literally shaking before him. He must have looked pretty damn furious, because one of them squeaked and he smelled urine. “Akisa attacked first. Apparently everyone here is so cowardly she isn’t used to a rebuttal. Her defense was lousy.”
He turned and kept going.
“She is an Heiress, Sir! Not to be touched!”
He gave the man a rude gesture and rounded the corner. Another set of footsteps came pelting but this time he stopped and waited. Moriko rounded the corner in a moment, breathless.
“Donte…”
He stood rigid.
“My husband, I honor your care and hold your body precious. I have an agitation in me, a sort of fear and doubt, that I have learned to calm with sex. Yes, I use my partners as tools. I have had only a few lovers and even they were not allowed too close to my heart. I apologize for insulting you. I will have no sex today and I will endeavor to find a new way to cope with my needs. Maybe I will use the tool you gifted me with and maybe I’ll be able to rise above this call of the flesh.”