Jack grabbed her by the thighs and repositioned her toward the center of the bed. He let himself hover at the edge of pushing into her, teasing her a little. Ryoko looked like she was holding back a smile, and he savored the way her expression fluttered as he finally pushed forward, sliding into her.
Her reactions were seductive in the cutest possible way. She responded to each of his movements with little gasps of pleasure. They were like little, lewd squeaks, and Jack could see her trying and failing to hold them in. She let out one that caused her voice to crack a little as he pushed in as far as he could go.
The foreplay was over. He started thrusting faster, and letting his hands grope her with less restraint. Ryoko matched his rhythm as he built up speed, bucking her hips and digging her fingers into his shoulders slightly.
Jack tried to be gentle, but felt himself giving in to a deep, primal urge to be a little rough. He squeezed and slapped her buttocks. He lifted one of her thighs and used it to give him the leverage to really pump into her. He pinned her shoulders and whispered things into her ear. He let the same monster that had scared Katie so much out and listened to Ryoko moaning in response to it.
The bed shook and banged against the wall as he took her. The sheets came askew, leaving the mattress nearly as naked as they were. Ryoko’s petite body seemed to fit him perfectly in the moment, and he took her for all she was worth.
It was just them in the mansion, and it would just be them moving forward. The thought was liberating. Jack listened to the noises Ryoko was making slowly rise in pitch until they finally exploded over. He didn’t last much longer than she did. He squeezed her against him as tightly as he could as he came and followed it up with a deep, sensual kiss. Ryoko wrapped her legs around him, holding him inside of her.
“Feel any better, sir?” Ryoko whispered, once they’d regained their breath.
Jack grinned at her and nodded. He ran a hand through her soft hair and let out a deeply satisfied sigh.
***
“See? Isn’t this nice? She’s basically a thrall already.”
Mira’s voice was soft and hot against Jack’s ear. He was still lying in bed, with Ryoko resting her head on his chest. Mira had taken up position behind him, dressed in her white nightgown and unconcerned with the fact that Jack was with another woman.
“I thought I told you not to use your Blood Sight to spy on me,” said Jack.
“I don’t think you did,” said Mira.
“Well, I certainly meant to,” he replied.
Mira caressed his cheek with her hand, and then reached over to Ryoko. Her fingers passed through the maid’s hair, unable to make physical contact given the illusory nature of her presence to everything but Jack.
“I like her so much more than the other one,” said Mira. “She’s more like us. More practical.”
“What do you want?” asked Jack.
Mira slid in closer, nibbling his ear and letting out a soft, sultry purr. Jack felt his lower half stirring, and he scowled downward at his traitorous body part.
“I’m on my way back,” said Mira.
It took a couple of seconds for the implication to register with him.
“What?”
“Remember?” whispered Mira. “You were in trouble the last time we spoke. I’m coming to help you out of it.”
“I don’t need help,” said Jack. “It’s fine. The situation has been resolved.”
His heart thudded in his chest. Mira coming back to Lestaron Island would pose so many problems. It would complicate everything. And yet somehow, it still made him tingle with excitement and anticipation.
“My sweet Jack,” whispered Mira. “I’ll see you soon.”
THE END
Thanks for reading. Next book out on September 18th. For updates on future releases, beta reading opportunities, and the occasional NSFW version of my book covers, sign up for my newsletter and check out my website. To leave a comment, complaint, or ask a question, shoot me an email at [email protected]. For a three-chapter sample of Heartgem Homestead, keep scrolling down.
Edmund Hughes
Heartgem Homestead
CHAPTER 1
And as such, Lady Eletha demanded supreme fealty from Billick. She strode into his palace flanked by her valkyries, wearing the sensual, open cut dress of the elven dawning ceremony. Billick, defeated in both battle and pride, stood naked in his court room. His contemporaries watched on, knowing that their only hope for thriving in the next era lay with the heir about to be conceived.
Before the war, Billick had boasted of his intent to bed Lady Eletha. Perhaps that was part of the irony of her demands, placing the burden of conception into his lap along with complete surrender. Now, she walked toward him with long, languid steps, the horizontal slits in her dress revealing glimpses of pink nipple as they shifted across her bosom.
Billick made a show of sneering openly, but it was clear that he was a defeated man. Even as aroused as he was, there was no confidence left in his eyes. If anything, his expression hinted at self-loathing and annoyance in the deep satisfaction Lady Eletha took in their reversal of roles.
She pushed her hand against his chest, knocking him back into the chair that was once to be his throne. Pulling up her dress from the hem, she lowered herself onto him. He was ready for her, and reached his hands up to feel her body and take control.
Two of Lady Eletha’s valkyries seized his wrists before he could. Lady Eletha nodded to a third, who came up beside her and took hold of Billick’s long ears, rubbing the appendages and teasing the erogenous zones there with soft movements.
Lady Eletha sank lower onto him, and Billick’s mask faded away. He let out a defeated moan and tried to glare at her, only managing a halfhearted effort. Lady Eletha pulled at her plunging neckline and thrust her bare breasts into his face. Slowly, she rocked her hips back and forth. She planned on taking her time with him.
“Halrin Kentar! Are you truly this daft?”
Hal flinched at the sound of his sister’s voice, nearly dropping the translation he’d been studying. Lilith was headed up the hill in his direction, carrying her skirts high as she stepped through the rain speckled grass.
He felt his cheeks reddening as he considered the history he’d been reading. Many of the ancient elven texts that Roth assigned him to translate centered on topics that were less than appropriate for polite discussion. Some of them even veered into explicit detail, giving a raw, unfiltered glimpse into the lurid history of the elder race.
“Do you need something, Lilith?” he asked.
Lilith bounced with each step as she made her way toward the tree Hal was resting against, her strawberry blonde curls falling loose across her freckled, youthful face. Behind her, carriages approached the Kentar Estate in an unbroken line, appearing to flee from the beautiful setting sun and indigo infused clouds in their wake.
“It’s father’s victory party,” she said. “He’s going to be expecting you there.”
Hal shrugged.
Of course he will be. Along with all his sycophants, desperate to win his favor however they can.
“Father is always expecting one thing or another,” said Hal. “I’m sure he’s learned to manage his disappointment over the years.”
Lilith made an annoyed noise and crossed her arms, the motion causing the curls of her hair to pull and bounce like paper spirals. She stomped toward Hal, pouting as her eyes ran over him. For an instant, he feared that she was going to look at his work, and he scrambled to set the stack of paper just out of reach.
“What happened?” asked Lilith. “I know you too well, brother, to think that this morose mood comes naturally to you.”
She sat down next to him, leaning her back against the tree trunk, and took hold of one of his hands. Lilith was only twelve, a full eight years younger than Hal, but she was precocious and surprisingly perceptive for her age. Hal sighed and made a vague gesture, hoping she’d just let it drop.
“Father den
ied your request for dueling training,” guessed Lilith. “Again?”
Hal slowly nodded.
“It doesn’t make any sense to me,” he said. “The Collected Provinces may be at peace now, but that might not always be the case. And he’s one of the most prominent Voicemen, especially now that he’s been reelected. How does he expect me to protect him or you, should something happen? With a single ball from my pistol, which I also haven’t been trained with?”
“He doesn’t want that kind of life for you,” said Lilith.
Hal scowled, not at her, but at his circumstances.
“Father used those exact same words,” said Hal. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d suspect an element of collusion between the two of you.”
Lilith made an offended noise, and Hal couldn’t keep a tiny smile from betraying his teasing. She was too easy, sometimes. Or perhaps she was just playing along, doing what she could to drag a better mood out of him.
“It’s not just the training though, is it?” asked Lilith. “He must have said something more than that to darken your temper so.”
“It’s not what he said…” Hal ran a hand through his hair. “It’s what he does. Who he favors…”
“You think he favors Mauve over you?” asked Lilith. “Mauve isn’t his son, Hal. And he isn’t your brother, despite how close he’s become to all of us.”
Mauve was the son of Eddard Broven, the Voiceman who’d originally pulled Hal’s father, Karnas Kentar, into politics. When Eddard had passed away, Mauve had still been a young child and the last of his family line. Karnas had taken him into the Kentar household without a second thought.
Mauve and my father get along well enough that maybe it would be better if he was his real son.
Hal pushed the thought away, realizing how petty it was. Mauve had been his best friend for almost his entire life. While Karnas had gone as far as to hint that he’d be open to allowing Mauve to marry Lilith one day, if he wished to join the family legally, Mauve was just as free spirited as Hal when it came to his future.
“I know,” said Hal. “And you’re right. It’s just frustrating. I’ve seen Mauve on the dueling grounds before. He’s the best swordsman under 25 summers in the province. It’s like father takes a perverse pleasure in allowing him the freedoms that he denies to me.”
Lilith frowned and said nothing. After a few seconds, she sat up straight and glanced over at him, her green eyes open and hopeful.
“I know what will cheer you up!” She reached into one of the pockets of her dress. When she pulled it out, her hand was clenched into a fist over something. “Close your eyes!”
Hal felt as though he’d rather roll his eyes than close them, but he obeyed. He felt Lilith draping a necklace over his head.
“Okay,” she said. “You can open them now.”
Hal looked down at what he’d been given. The necklace was an odd thing, a circle of leather cord with a small, clear stone in the shape of teardrop hanging from it. It was smooth and uniform, lacking any imperfections that he could see.
The stone had a strange effect on the light that passed through it. It wasn’t prismatic, but it still created minor distortions, almost like a full glass of water. A small, metal clasp with a loop for the cord to run through had been secured to the tip of its teardrop shape, leaving the larger half to hang downward.
Hal glanced up at his sister, who watched him with an excited expression on her face.
“I found it washed up on the edge of the river,” said Lilith. “What do you think of it?”
“I can’t really wear a necklace,” said Hal. “Rings are the only jewelry appropriate for grown men.”
All the excitement faded from her face, replaced by open disappointment. She bit her lower lip, and Hal knew beyond doubt that she was seconds away from crying.
“It’s beautiful!” he said, quickly. “And I can just wear it under my shirt. Thank you, Lilith. I’ll treasure it always.”
He pulled her into a tight hug, and felt her rest her head against his shoulder.
“Really?” she asked.
“Really,” he said. “Thank you.”
“I love you, Hal,” she whispered.
She kept hugging him even as Hal started to release her from the embrace. Her hands moved across her eyes quickly as he caught sight of her face again, brushing away wasted tears.
“Now,” continued Lilith. “You need to head down the ballroom and join the festivities. And for the sun’s love, Hal, patch things up with father. Tonight isn’t about you, it’s about him.”
“Fine,” he said. “I’ll see what I can do.”
CHAPTER 2
Lilith headed straight back to the victory party, but Halrin needed to return his translation to Roth’s library first. He buckled his pistol belt back on as he stood up from his spot by the tree and set off down the hill toward the archives.
The Kentar estate was one of the largest land holdings in southeast Cardvale. It was mostly undeveloped, with the main house and buildings set within a large clearing surrounded by cultivated fields and pasture lands. Further beyond lay the dense, thick forest that had reclaimed much of the province over the past hundred years.
Hal took a route that would keep him away from most of the party’s guests. He was already dressed for the festivities, but he hated listening to the pleas and overtures of the merchants and politicians who were desperate to win his father’s favor.
The necklace Lilith had given him felt odd around his neck. The strange stone pressed against the bare skin of his chest, feeling warm and alive. He pulled it out as he walked, frowning as it began to heat up against his fingers.
A flash of light came from within the clear stone’s core, lasting only a fraction of a second, but shining bright enough to hurt Hal’s eyes. He flinched back from it, blinking several times in quick succession and frowning. Stones that changed color over time were not uncommon in the collected provinces, and were often set in to jewelry and purported to be able to tell the mood of the wearer.
I’ve seen that before, but never anything like this. Very strange…
The library doors were already locked for the night, but Hal had his own key. He let himself into the musty space and headed to his tutor’s desk. He tucked the translation into the drawer that Roth reserved for him to submit his work and made his way back outside.
He’d been working as a translator, both of spoken and written word, for almost five years. Few in southeast Cardvale had a better understanding of the various dialects and tongues spoken across the Collected Provinces than he did. Hal’s education extended not only to the ancient elven language, but to the eccentric sign language of the ogres, as well. Being an ogre himself, Roth had taught him personally.
The air in the hallways of the estate smelled of the night’s feast, a mixture garlic roasted pork, seasoned vegetables, various pastries, and the distinct, slightly acidic smell of wine. The sounds of the victory party reached Hal from far outside the ballroom and stirred his anxiety. It wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy parties, but the burden of his father’s work in the public eye often fell onto his shoulders, as well as Lilith’s.
Dozens, if not hundreds of people were packed into the ballroom, pressed closely together across both the lower and upper levels. The estate’s servants had set up a small stage in the very back of the main floor for Karnas to deliver his speech from. Karnas was already busy talking with several of his fellow politicians, the chosen few who curried his favor.
Hal and his father had shared a fractious relationship ever since the passing of his and Lilith’s mother four years earlier. She’d been the center of their family, with an open, loving personality that had made her a master of orchestrating compromises. Hal still missed her deeply, though her death had been expected, as she’d been sick for several years before it came to pass.
He watched the conversing politicians for a second too long and Karnas’s eyes met his as his father scanned the room. Karnas was nearly
as stubborn as he was, but Hal could see a hint of a plea in his father’s expression. Had their argument truly been so bad? Hal had raised his voice to Karnas, who’d shouted back at him, but what had they actually said to each other?
He said I wasn’t fit to be a warrior, in body or temperament. And I said that he’d always make a better politician than father.
It had been rumored that the Executive Voice might make an appearance to congratulate Voiceman Karnas, given how instrumental his support had been in Karnas’s reelection. Looking around, Hal doubted that it would be so, given that most everyone of interest had already arrived.
He never knew exactly what to do with himself at his father’s parties, and he was still glancing around awkwardly when an arm settled across his shoulders. Mauve favored Hal with a wide grin and passed him a mug full of ale.
“Take a swig,” said Mauve. “You look as though you could use it.”
Hal let out a single chuckle.
“I think I probably could,” said Hal. He put the mug to his lips, tasting a hint of blackberry in the strong brew.
“Lilith told me about the fight,” said Mauve.
Hal turned to look at him, frowning slightly as he did. Mauve was tall, with broad shoulders and strong muscles from his martial training. His skin was tanned, and his face was handsome. Since they’d both come of age, Hal had occasionally felt pangs of jealousy when comparing his more average physique to his friend’s, but the two were more than close enough to make jest of it.
What surprised him now was the expression on Mauve’s face. He looked guilty, as though he blamed himself for whatever had happened between Hal and his father. Seeing that made Hal feel like a petulant child, arguing and sulking in a manner that dragged his friends and family down with him.
“Don’t worry about that,” said Hal. “It’s not your fault. And honestly, it’s none of Lilith’s business.”
Shadow Form (Dark Impulse Book 2) Page 23