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Lilith Enraptured (Divinity Warriors 1)

Page 9

by Pillow Michelle M.


  Slow. By all the stars in the sky, Sorin, go slow.

  He held his breath. He’d never known a woman to be so tight. Unable to take the torment, his hips flexed on their own accord, seating his cock to the hilt. She gasped and arched, her muscles gripping him.

  Sorin worked his hips in shallow thrusts, panting for air as he slid in the wet heat of her pussy. He pushed up for leverage, watching her glorious body beneath his. Her breasts bobbed, and he wished he had a knife to cut them loose from the binding top.

  When she didn’t protest, he thrust harder. Her body met his. Soft moans of pleasure escaped her. Then, suddenly, she tensed, her entire body going rigid as she met her release. The tremors were too much. Sorin grunted, a loud, primitive noise of power and completion. With a jerk, he emptied himself into her before collapsing forward. He kept his weight on his elbow so as not to crush her.

  After his heart slowed and he caught his breath, he reached to untie her hands. She made soft noises, her eyes closed as she cuddled into the bed. Sorin studied her for a moment, knowing if she demanded it he could rise again. But, when her eyes opened, they appeared tired and it was late in the evening. For the time being, his body would have to be sated.

  Leaning over, he kissed her once and said, “Good eve, my lady.” Rolling off the bed, he walked to his room to sleep.

  * * * * *

  Lilith watched Sorin walk away from her. The sexy muscles folded and flexed with each step, seductively revealed by firelight. As if they weighed a ton, she struggled to free her heavy limbs from the scarf. Every bone in her body felt as if it had melted. Her nerves tingled with a fantastic numbness and all he could say was good eve? Good freaking eve?! After what they just did he left her for his own bed?

  Too tired to chase after him and unsure she’d have the courage to confront him if she did, she didn’t move from her spot on the bed as she reached to pull the laces of her corset. The restrictive clothing made it hard to breathe. Finally free, she flung the material on the floor. The gown would have to do for nightclothes, even with the torn slit up the skirt, for she wasn’t getting out of the bed to find something else.

  If she hadn’t been one hundred percent sure he’d orgasmed, she would have thought she’d done something wrong. In fact, it felt as if they’d done something very, very right. Turning her back on the door, she jerked the covers over her body and snuggled into the mattress, pretending the lump in the folded coverlet was really Sorin resting next to her. Tomorrow she’d analyze what happened. Tonight she just wanted to dream.

  Chapter Eight

  After their evening together and his abrupt departure from her bed, Lilith wasn’t sure what to expect. Surprisingly, she slept better than she had since she woke up that first morning in Staria. She half expected to be sore after sex, but aside from a mild ache, she felt great.

  Nevertheless, with the morning light came her overactive brain’s logical demands. What did sex with Sorin mean? Would she be treated differently now by those in the castle? Would they stop calling her a witch? Would Sorin expect her to lift her skirts whenever the mood struck him? What if he did? What if he didn’t? And what in the world did she say to him?

  Confusion filled her. She felt connected to him now, but knew she couldn’t stay. This wasn’t her dimension. Sure, she didn’t have much of a life in her own parallel, but it was hers. That’s where she belonged. And someone at Divinity owed her an explanation.

  With her only way out blocked by Sorin’s room, Lilith listened for signs of movement and watched the door in hope that he’d walk in. All was silent.

  She took her time getting dressed, bathing, then fussing over which of the dozen outfits to put on. Well, a dozen minus one. Her gown from the evening before had been ruined. She finally decided on a soft cream-colored tunic dress with burgundy corset. The cream material had simple embroidery around the edges, not nearly as decorative as she’d seen on similar garments from other planes. As she looked in the polished metal they had in place of a mirror, she contemplated leaving the scarf off. The thought only lasted a second before she crammed a sheer piece of burgundy material down the front of her bodice.

  Still, no sounds came from Sorin’s room.

  Opening the little containers on the vanity, she found one that she’d determined to be kohl eyeliner. She smudged it lightly over her lids, giving them a smoky effect. Then, braiding her hair into two sections, she wound them at the base of her neck and fastened it with a decorative comb.

  And still, no sign that Sorin stirred from his sleep.

  Maybe if she tiptoed really quietly, she could sneak downstairs. It might be easier to face him if they weren’t quite so isolated in their tower. Morning-afters always tended to be a little awkward, especially, she quickly discovered, when the man she’d slept with was the incredibly confident Lord Sorin.

  Slowly pushing open the door, she peeked through the crack. The messy comforter at the end of his bed didn’t move. She watched the folds carefully, leaning down to crawl across the floor. Keeping her eyes on the edge of the bed, she inched her way along the stone. When she reached the end, she couldn’t stop herself from pushing onto her knees to see if he slept naked. The bed was empty.

  Lilith gave a small laugh and stood from the floor. She’d been up since dawn so either he left really early or the insulation between their two rooms was better than she imagined. Recalling how he’d pleasured himself the first day they met, she knew the latter was exceedingly possible.

  On her way down, the sounds of footsteps greeted her. Sera appeared, smiling as she balanced a giant tray of food on her shoulder. She again wore a corset that seemed two sizes too small for her generous chest. Steaming miniature bread loafs, red liquid sauce for dipping, sliced meats, fruits, a large bowl of green gelatinous substance, and the biggest flaky pastry she’d ever seen filled the serving tray to capacity.

  “Lord Sorin is not in the tower,” Lilith said, knowing all that food couldn’t be hers. At most, they’d given her dry bread and cold meat trays when she was alone in her room.

  “My lord ate below stairs with the men before going out to the exercise field to do mock battle with the squires,” Sera explained. “Maray made this especially for my lady to break her fast.”

  “Really?” Lilith arched a brown in dubious surprise. Why was the woman being so nice to her? “What is it? Poison?”

  Sera’s smile didn’t falter. The servant turned and began the long trek down. “Since you’re coming down, I’ll bring your tray to the hall. Most of the castle is finished with the morn meal, but I am sure someone will linger for conversation.”

  “Is there a particular reason you’re…?” Lilith stopped. If Sorin went to the hall and announced that he’d gotten a piece of ass from her, she really didn’t want to hear it from a gloating, I-told-you-to-listen-to-me Sera. Then again, Lilith had never been completely sure about this maidservant’s sanity. “Never mind. Thank you, Sera, and I don’t need conversation.”

  Like I really want to start my day by being called a witch as people shield their children from me. I have enough to think about without a posse trying to drag me into the courtyard.

  Sera led the way into the main hall. Loud bouts of laughter, not unlike the day Sorin chose her, sounded from within. Lilith approached cautiously, half expecting another group of unwitting females waiting before the crowd. A pang of jealousy hit her as she imagined Sorin choosing another to take her place.

  “My lady,” a servant greeted, smiling brightly. She carried an empty pitcher in her hands. “Good morn.”

  “Good…” Lilith didn’t finish the thought. What was going on here?

  “Good morn, my lady,” another woman said, coming from the kitchen with a full tray of food.

  “My lady,” still a third greeted, nodding her head.

  Welcome to Crazyville, please be sure to wear your padded suit.

  When the fourth maid tried to hurry past with the same happy greeting, Lilith grabbed her arm to stop
her. “I’m not being burned alive today, am I?”

  “My lady?” the young woman inquired, perplexed. Her brown eyes reminded Lilith of a fuzzy baby animal begging to be picked up. Lilith had noticed the maid before, hanging back from the others when the hall became too boisterous.

  “The villagers wanted to burn me as a witch,” Lilith explained. “That’s not happening today, is it?”

  “Oh, you knew about…?” The maid cleared her throat. “No one really thought you were a witch, my lady. I do not think we would have burned you. Lord Sorin made it clear this morning you were not to be touched.”

  “He made an announcement?” She gave a weak, disbelieving laugh. Well, he did promise to protect her.

  “Yea, my lady, he decreed that he inspected you quite thoroughly and you were most assuredly not a witch, and there was to be no drowning or burning of his wife.” Her grin widened knowingly. “We all thank you for taking the fire out of his temper.”

  Lilith made a weak noise by way of an answer, unsure whatever she said was a coherent series of words. Sorin made an announcement? Sure, she assumed people might suspect something, eventually, but she didn’t expect a formal decree of her bedding.

  Hurrying inside, she kept her head down in hopes that she wouldn’t be noticed making her way to the head table. She always hated being the center of attention, set high above the others as if on display. The crowd was abnormally large for so late in the morning. At her glances, several of the women stood to wave at her. Many of them wore scarves draped over their necks, just as Lilith had been doing.

  “My lady!” a loud knight called, lifting his goblet toward her. She flinched as the loud sound turned every pair of eyes to her. She lifted her hand, giving a halfhearted wave of acknowledgement. She scanned the hall for Sorin, relieved when she didn’t see him.

  Lilith sat at the table in front of the food Sera laid out for her, all too aware of being the center of attention. She’d seen societies, especially ones where people lived in such close proximity, where everyday happenings of the individual were common knowledge throughout the population. But she’d always watched from the edge of their social circles, taking her notes. Now it would seem she was one of the top celebrities. If the negative attention made her uncomfortable before, constant stares and waves made her want to jump up and scream.

  Her hand shook as she reached for the bread. The crowd stared openly at her, taking in her every move with wide smiles and avid attention. She much preferred the moody accusations as they refused to acknowledge her. Tearing off a bit of the crust, she stuck the dry morsel in her mouth. The staring didn’t stop.

  Is this some kind of new torture? Attention me to death?

  A group of women stood from one of the front tables and slowly made their way forward. The same group had gone out of their way to snub her in the halls a few days before. Whispering and giggling, they pushed a tall, thin blonde to the front. Greta curtsied, saying meekly, “My lady.”

  Lilith didn’t move as she fingered her bread. Greta looked to her companions. They shook their heads and motioned her to speak.

  Greta cleared her throat. “We wish an audience.”

  Lilith looked behind them to the full hall and stated dryly, “You have one.”

  Greta relaxed. “It is our wish to welcome you properly to Battlewar.”

  “All right,” Lilith began. “Thank—”

  “With a fire celebration,” Alana asserted, jumping a little in excitement.

  Lilith didn’t move, as she thought dryly, They want to set me on fire. I knew it.

  “May we?” Karima asked when Lilith didn’t answer.

  Refusing to agree to anything she didn’t know about, she shook her head in denial. “No.”

  As if they were all struck by the same magical gale, their expressions fell. Losing all gaiety as they slumped back to their table, the women rejoined their men. Alana went so far as to pull the scarf from her neck and throw it down in an open display of pouting.

  Feeling somewhat vindicated for the snubbing, Lilith tore off another piece of bread and dipped it into the red sauce. Maybe this celebrity thing wouldn’t be too bad.

  * * * * *

  Being a celebrity blew like the geysers on dimensional plane 237.

  The small fire celebration victory lasted all of two minutes before the staring and waving resumed. Lilith could barely force herself to swallow, feeling like they counted every bite. By the time a loud ruckus came from the back of the hall, she was ready to kiss the feet of whoever took the attention from her.

  Sorin.

  The name caught on her lips. Towering over a group of shirtless men, he strode boldly into the main hall, dominating everything around him. In the light of day he appeared handsomer than before—his sweat-glistened chest, the tight fit of his breeches, the thick line of his tattooed arm.

  Wet heat pooled between her thighs. Her pussy was all too ready to remind her of the night before. Thick, tight muscles. Strong, sure hands. Firm, smooth ass. Hard, delicious cock. Being tied at his mercy as he ripped her clothing.

  Unlike other times, he actually smiled. The expression lit up his entire face, gentling the harsh, disapproving lines. She struggled for breath, drawing in raspy gasps of air through her parted lips. This couldn’t be the same man who randomly chose her from a line of women. He appeared too…happy.

  The knights made slow progression, filtering through the crowd, stopping to talk and laugh. A warrior with a missing hand spoke to Sorin, pointing his wrist toward the front of the hall. Sorin’s smile dropped some as he looked at her over the crowd only to resume the second his gaze met hers. Heat flooded her features.

  Sorin strode through the hall, heading in a straight line to where she waited. She bit her lip, trying to think of something clever to say and all too aware of their audience. He came around the table, practically leaping up the platform steps. Dipping his finger into the green substance she had yet to touch, he brought it to his mouth and sucked lightly.

  “Good morn, my lady,” he said quietly, leaning to kiss her. His eyes glowed with an inner light, drawing her toward him.

  Lilith almost let him, but her eyes drifted over the watchful eyes. On instinct, she jerked away, denying him. A low murmur started over the crowd. Sorin stiffened, hurt flitting across his expression before his mouth dropped into the impassable mask she was used to seeing.

  “I understand.” The flat statement landed on her like a death sentence, hard and condemning. All around the main hall, smiles faded into irritated frowns, as if the whole lot of Starians were joined emotionally to Sorin’s moods.

  “Sorin, I—” Lilith peered over the watchful faces. “We need to talk.”

  He crossed his arms over his chest and arched a brow. The motion yanked her gaze down to his thick, tan chest. She flexed her fingers, aching to touch him.

  “Not here,” she answered, standing. Her feet couldn’t carry her fast enough.

  Once out of the hall, she started to go to the stairs only to turn around, start for the kitchen, stop and finally decide on the hall she’d last seen Jayne disappear down. She paced nervously, feeling Sorin before he rounded the corner. The man had an energy about him.

  Her stomach fluttered. Perhaps alone wasn’t such a great idea. Crossing his arms over that mammoth chest, he said nothing. She went to him, closing the distance. Heat wrapped round her, like a million tiny fingers pulling her into him.

  “This isn’t going to work for me.” Lilith moaned softly. That didn’t exactly come out right. “I mean to say, we should discuss—”

  “I do not see what there is to discuss. You changed your mind about us.” His features were as hard as ice and his eyes just as cold. The man was like a broken faucet, hot and cold, cold and hot.

  “That’s just it,” Lilith exclaimed. “This whole ‘us’ idea. We just met, Sorin.”

  “The gods willed—”

  “No.” She held up her hand. It pressed against the hard flank of muscle
over his heart. The steady beat drummed against her fingers, contrasting the erratic rhythm in her own chest. “Not the gods, not the knights or their women, you. I don’t know you.”

  “You knew me well enough last night.” Was she mistaken or did some of the sparkle come back to his gaze at that statement? He reached for her hip, jerking her against him. Her hand crushed between their bodies. With a swift turn, he had her pinned to the wall. “Should I remind you?”

  “That’s different. That’s…” Lilith struggled to define what last night was. She pushed at his chest, but wasn’t able to push him away. His heartbeat quickened as the length of his cock grew thick against her stomach. “It was sex.”

  “Good sex,” he offered, rocking into her.

  “Ah, fine.” Lilith suppressed a moan. Did he not realize someone could walk around the corner and see them? Starians really had no sense of modesty. None. “However, that’s not the issue.”

  “So you admit that it was good between us.” The side of his mouth curled in self-satisfaction. He licked his mouth, his tongue taking a leisurely route along the supple lips.

  “I admit that…that is not the issue,” she tried to focus. Why couldn’t he just listen to her? Why did he have to look at her with those piercing eyes? Press that gorgeous body still bulging from a workout against her? She swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. “Sex is sex. Strangers have it all the time, but people are acting like we’re a couple.”

  “We are a couple,” he said, his tone aggravatingly certain. “You are my wife.”

  “Please, Sorin, not here. This is the kind of thing I wanted to talk to you about. I don’t want to sit up at the high table. I don’t want people watching me all the time.”

 

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