Bated: Reverse Harem Dragon Shifter Fairytale (Goldilocks and The Three Dragons Trilogy Book 1)
Page 15
The sight and sound and taste of him was too much. She needed release before she melted in a puddle on the floor. Marigold reached down and unbuttoned her own breeches enough to slip her fingers into the placket and between her sopping wet folds.
“I want to see your breasts,” he murmured.
The hand holding his thick base slipped down and undid her buttons, and she shrugged her shirt off her shoulders.
“Oh, what a view!” he moaned.
Marigold licked and stroked and sucked, sliding her lips and tongue up and down his length. As she pleasured herself, she let go of his cock and gripped his chiseled thigh, building up a rhythm that made him pant.
“I didn’t know such pleasures were possible,” he whispered.
Marigold hummed, and his knees buckled, but he managed to stay upright. A heady sense of power took her over, knowing that she had this handsome gentleman completely at her mercy. She wanted him inside her, but he tasted so right, so delicious, she didn’t want to move until he had spilled inside her mouth.
Berrin’s hips jerked, and his head hit the back of her throat. “Sorry. I couldn’t help myself.”
She gave him another encouraging hum. Berrin made shallow thrusts, hissing and shuddering with every movement. The rumble in his throat made her core quiver, and the sensitive bundle of nerves pulsed, urging her to rub faster, harder. She moved her fingertip in fast, firm circles around her nub, careful not to touch it directly so as to prolong the sweet agony of being on the brink of climax. Her insides fluttered, needing to be filled. She ignored that urge, choosing to see the fellatio through to its conclusion.
“Mari…” His face twisted. “If you carry on like this, I will spend.”
“Go ahead,” she murmured around her mouthful. Speeding up her fingers around her clit, she moaned in anticipation. She had wanted to taste him, after all.
Berrin’s thrusts quickened. They were shallow, sliding in and out of her mouth in a frantic glide. Marigold rolled her tongue, and his body vibrated with a deep growl that penetrated her to the marrow. It pushed her over the edge, and a series of rapturous spasms rocked her body.
She cried out her pleasure, her eyes wide. Berrin roared and spurted warm, thick fluid into her mouth. Closing her lips around his hard length, she swallowed and glanced up.
“Mari, that was…” The fire in Berrin’s eyes faded, partially covered by their now heavy lids. A flush brightened his cheeks, spreading as far as his full, parted lips. Loose strands of hair stuck to his sweat-dampened face. He leaned on the wall, breathing hard. “I have no words.”
Despite her brief satiation, an emptiness opened up within her heart. In ten days, she would have to leave this sweet, gentle male. Before he could see the sadness in her eyes, she lowered them. Berrin held out a hand, and she grasped it, letting him pull her up. She leaned on his chest, resting her head on his shoulder.
Berrin placed his hands on her hips. “I wish to do the same to you.” He reached down and pulled at her breeches. “Will you show me how?”
She was about to say something else, when her stomach rumbled. Heat rose to her cheeks. “Excuse me.”
He ran the back of his fingers over her cheek. “I’ve been a terrible host. Forgive me. The servants will have left enough in the pantry to keep us going for the entirety of Festival Week.”
As Berrin pulled up his breeches, Marigold buttoned hers. “I’ll come with you.”
He held up a quelling hand. “But that would ruin the surprise.”
“Oh yes?” She grinned. “Is there something in the kitchen I shouldn’t see?”
His eyes sparkled like the sun reflecting on a shallow pool. “Not exactly. But there is a special dessert I hope you will adore. I want to put it in one of those domed platters, so I can see your reaction when I lift the lid.”
Placing her palms on his chest, she gave him a peck on the lips. “If you want to spoil me, I won’t stop you!”
“I won’t be long.” He opened the door.
“Don’t forget your sword!” she said.
Releasing the door handle, he offered her a sheepish smile and rubbed the back of his neck. “Thanks for the reminder. If Polaris caught me wandering around the house unarmed, he would not be pleased.”
She tilted her head to the side, considering his words. He strode across the room to a vertical stand next to his desk. Marigold gazed at the rippling of the muscles beneath his golden skin as he stood with his back to her. The hilts of a dozen long-bladed swords and daggers protruded from slits carved into its rounded oak top. He selected a rapier and attached it to the leather hoop on the waistband of his breeches.
“Surely he wouldn’t scold you that much?”
The corner of his mouth lifted. “His disappointed face would be scolding enough.”
Marigold smiled and waved him away. It was nice that Berrin had such a good friend in his brother. Things had been different for her while she was growing up. People were always moving in and out of the Priory Orphanage, so it was difficult to maintain friendships. Newly bereaved children would move in for a short time, only to be claimed later by relatives or masters looking for apprentices. She had always hoped to be chosen, but farmers and bee-keepers preferred burly-looking girls, landlords and shopkeepers wanted less sullen girls. The nuns refused to offer girls as servants to households who didn’t adhere to their rigid standards of morality.
Shaking off the memories, she sauntered to the sofa and sat. When the time came, could she leave Berrin? He wasn’t like anyone she had ever met, and she wasn’t likely to find another male like him. At home, Unwin had been the best of what had been available, and that had ended in betrayal. Berrin had been exceptionally kind to her, even when his brothers had thought she had murdered their parents. And he had wanted her to stay in Fafnir Island, presumably so he could visit. She couldn’t see him tiring of her like other gentlemen had discarded some of her cellmates, but even if he did, he wouldn’t leave her in the gutter. Marigold leaned back and rubbed her temples. Habilis could wait, but she couldn’t let Berrin slip through her fingers. It was madness to throw that away for a life in an unknown land.
The distant slamming of a door broke her out of her thoughts. Her heart jolted, and she sat upright. Had the other two brothers returned so soon? It seemed unlikely. What if it was the assassins, come to wipe out the entire family? If Governor Hertz wanted to guarantee his possession of the fortune, the best way to do so would be to kill the brothers.
She shot out of the sofa and scrambled into a shirt. On bare feet, she rushed to the sword stand and grabbed a dagger and a short sword light enough for her to wield. She stuck the dagger, sheath and all, into the waistband of her breeches. After taking one deep, fortifying breath, she crept to the servant’s staircase and inched open the door.
“And I told you to leave this dwelling,” Berrin’s voice echoed through the stairwell.
“What are you going to do, fledgling?” sneered the rough, deep voice of a bear shifter. “Burn us?”
A bolt of fear lanced Marigold through the gut, and her heart burst into action. Tightening her fingers around the sword’s grip, she eased the door open and stepped through. Between the two of them, they could defeat the shifter, especially if she surprised him from behind. She took the first few tentative steps down the stairs.
Another voice burst into throaty laughter. “I’d like to see him try!”
“Stop messing about, you two,” snapped a third.
Blood drained from her face, sweat dampened her palms, and she paused her steps. They were outnumbered!
Berrin’s growl reverberated up the stairs. “The seven days are not yet over, and my brothers and I still have a legal right to our family home. You are trespassing!”
“We are here on the authority of Governor Hertz. Produce the fugitive, and we will spare you.”
“She picked a lock and escaped in the middle of the night.”
“A likely story,” contempt dripped from the shifters voice like molt
en lead. “Her scent is all over you.”
Marigold’s eyes bulged. If the shifter knew how she smelled, then it had to be someone she knew. None of the lumbering oafs at the House of Corrections would bother to travel across the country to capture her. The only other bear who knew her well enough was Lord Arctos, but he was too self-important to do grunt work. She took a few more steps towards the arguing males.
“Leave my property, or I will attack!” snapped Berrin.
“Not until I repay her for nearly killing me with a candlestick holder.”
Cringing, she wrapped one arm around her stomach. It was that probation officer from the brothel. After worrying about having killed him, she should have been more concerned about his plans for vengeance.
The clang of metal striking metal made her jump. Growls filled the air, punctuated by the swish and clink and clash of a sword fight. The bear’s heavy steps drowned out the sound of Berrin’s light movements, and Marigold suppressed a whimper. If he was as close to his brother as she imagined, Polaris would have taught him to fight. With her heart in her mouth, Marigold rushed down the stairs, keeping her steps light. Her own safety no longer mattered. She couldn’t leave Berrin alone to fight those brutes. He didn’t know bear shifters like she did. They always cheated to get the upper hand.
She reached the bottom of the stairs and inched open the door leading from the stairwell to the ground floor. The broad back and shaggy black hair of a bear shifter came into view. He wore a brown tunic and loose trousers instead of a uniform, and she wondered if he was a mercenary. The bear shifter stood with his sword drawn, watching Berrin fight his comrade. As she approached the landing, keeping low so as not to be spotted, Berrin disarmed his opponent. Before she had time to react, the observing bear shifter plunged his broadsword into Berrin’s back.
Berrin screamed, arched, and fell to his side. Clutching the stairwell door, she clapped one hand over her mouth, suppressing her sob. Blood pulled under him, and tears sprang into Marigold’s eyes. Even a dragon couldn’t survive a blow like that.
The disarmed bear plodded to the other end of the hallway after his sword. Marigold ducked behind the door, quaking hard. She peered through a tiny crack, desperate to know Berrin’s fate. After retrieving his weapon, the bear glared at his companion. “What d’you do that for, Cinnamon? I could’ve won if you’d let me!”
“If he was that good, he would’ve seen me coming!” said the one who had stabbed him in the back. “Let’s get to work. We didn’t come here for you to spar with fledglings.”
Anger roiled in Marigold’s belly, and she crouched low. If her mind wasn’t floundering for ways to kill the bears, she would have noted that neither of them were acknowledging that Berrin had won.
“Is he alive?” The one who had fought Berrin rolled him onto his back with his foot.
“He’d better not be,” replied the other. “You know what these breathers are like when you harm one of theirs.”
“Hertz don’t seem to mind.”
“Yeah. But he’s different.”
“Suppose so. Come on. Let’s get the Governor’s woman before you kill anyone else.” They both headed in the opposite direction, towards the grand staircase. “We’ll split up at the stairs. Whoever gets her first should roar.”
They laughed and disappeared around the corner. Marigold straightened, clutching the sword and dagger so tightly, it hurt. She blinked, letting the tears flow. If Berrin was still alive, she would run to the nearest house and beg for help. But if he was dead… She bared her teeth. Polaris and Matheson would find bear carcasses when they returned from the court. As quietly as she could, she eased open the stairwell door to check on Berrin. Stepping out, she found him lying on his back, unmoving, and Marigold’s heart shattered.
A hand clamped around her mouth, and the door clicked shut behind her. She gasped, blood draining from her face. An arm wrapped around her middle, its grip as strong as iron. “I have you at last!”
He lifted her off her feet and slammed her against the wall. Pain exploded in the back of her head from the impact, and she winced, agony twisting her face. He turned to her, his eyes bulging and bloodshot. Spittle gathered in the corners of his mouth, wetting his unkempt beard. He bared his half-transformed teeth.
“You little bitch,” he snarled, holding her in place with a hand between her legs. “Think you’re too good for my cock? I’ll make you howl for Poda’s liquid pearls!”
Disgust rippled through her body, fueled by her anger. It powered her enough to swing her arm up and stab Poda through the ribs with the short sword. The shifter flinched, and she yanked back her arm to stab him once more. The stupid bear had underestimated her. Again.
Poda released her and clutched his wound. Blood streamed from between his fingers, soaking the side of his white, linen shirt. His lips pulled back into a snarl, his nose flattened, and his jaws formed a snout. Marigold’s stomach plummeted. He was going to shift!
“Unforgivable!” The last syllable distorted into a roar. His shoulders curved inwards, arms shortened, back arched. Thick, wiry bristles sprouted from his face.
“No!” She lurched forward and slammed the dagger under his chin. Blood splattered in her eyes, making her rear back.
He staggered to the side, half transformed. Massive, hairless paws clawed uselessly at the dagger, and Marigold’s hands trembled. She didn’t know what to do. The others would run down to investigate Poda’s roar. But Berrin lay on the floor behind the probation officer. His chest rose and fell, but blood pooled beneath him on the marble, and it was spreading fast. The partly transformed bear thrashed about, taking up the hallway space and spraying blood on the walls.
“I will kiiiiill!” His words were so distorted, she could barely understand them. He advanced on her, swiping with claws as long as her fingers and as sharp as daggers.
Marigold stepped backwards towards the stairwell. As desperately as she wanted to be at Berrin’s side to comfort him, he needed help, now. She could not let him end up like his parents. Gulping back a sob, she spared one last glance for her beloved Berrin. If Poda killed her, Berrin would die from his wounds. She opened the door to the stairwell and rushed through a short hallway, at the end of which stood the door leading to the gardens. It was locked, and someone had taken the key.
Cursing, she scampered to the window, slid her hands under the sash and pulled it high enough to scramble out. She slid out, head-first, but half-way through, the probation officer charged and slashed at her boots.
She fell forward, landing hard on the gravel walkway. Tiny stones dug into her palms. A bone-shaking roar made her turn back. The bear’s grotesque head, complete with short sword protruding from his beard, stuck out of the window.
“I’ll take back the dagger!” She lurched forward and gave the weapon a hard twist. Poda’s roar shook her eardrums, and she snatched back the dagger and jabbed it into his eye. The creature fell slack, and triumph exploded in her chest. Sticking the dagger into the sheath in her waistband, she sprinted across the garden towards the tree. On the lawn slumped a winged, four-legged figure. She couldn’t tell if it was a bird or a beast. Snapping her gaze away from the spectacle, she focused on her destination. If she could climb out and reach the nearest occupied house, someone could call for help and send a doctor for Berrin.
“There she is!” The two shifters from earlier lumbered out from the other side of the house.
Marigold shrieked and picked up her pace.
“Little strumpet thinks she can out run us, eh?” The sounds of their laughter gained on her like an avalanche.
Marigold’s heart pumped harder. Running was futile. In mere seconds, they would catch her. She had no choice left but to fight. Spinning on her heels, she widened her stance and held out the short sword, readying herself to attack. The two bear shifters slowed their steps and grinned.
The larger one who had stabbed Berrin in the back nudged his companion. “This one reckons she can fight.”
Marigold scowled and held out the short sword with both hands. “Stay away or I’ll kill you!”
“Oh! I’m really scared, little Missy.” The large one raised his hands and shimmied, making his belly wobble under his woolen tunic. “Now, put that practice blade down before you nick one of them pretty ringlets.”
“Bugger off!” she spat.
His eyes widened, then he gave her an exaggerated wink. “I like a girl who knows what she wants!”
The shorter bear rolled his eyes and shouldered his companion out of the way. “Governor Hertz told us to fetch you using any means necessary. So throw that table knife aside like a good little girl and you won’t get hurt. But if you carry on brandishing it, me and Cinnamon will make all your nightmares come true.”
She stepped back, edging towards the tree. If she could climb into the street, maybe someone would notice her and help. But first, she needed to distract them. “Did you two kill the two dragons who lived here?”
Cinnamon, the larger shifter who had stabbed Berrin, curled his lip. “Who do you think you are, the King’s Inquisitor? Next you’ll be asking us who supplied the papaver to kill their flames!”
Marigold took that answer for a yes. She slashed at the two shifters, who stepped out from the trajectory of her blade. “And I suppose you killed them so Governor Hertz could get his claws on their money?”
“I don’t like your tone,” snarled Cinnamon. “If you’re that desperate to poke your nose where it doesn’t belong, ask the Governor himself when we hand you over to him.”
She jabbed at the shifter, who jumped back. Marigold took the opportunity to edge further towards the tree. These lumbering thugs were no Guild assassins. All she needed was a lucky break, and she could either incapacitate them or escape. At the moment, neither option seemed available. She flickered her gaze towards the sky. It was nearing sunset, and the brothers would return from seeing the judge. She hoped that for Berrin’s sake that they would come soon.