by Jet Mykles
“My lord, please. I didn’t ...”
“Get up.”
She scrambled to obey. After carefully setting her harp on the floor, she planted her feet on the rug beside the bed, pressing her back against one of the solid posts at the corner of the mattress. Krael tossed the whip on the blankets, then stood before her. His cock now stood at attention, but he ignored it.
“Turn around.”
She did.
“Gather your hair in front of you.”
Hastily, she reached back to pull all of her nearly knee-length hair over one shoulder so that it draped before her.
“Put your arms up and grasp the pole.”
She obeyed, trembling. He stepped into her, pressing that cock against her back as he reached up to tie her hands to the post. He must have picked up the leather strap when he picked up the whip. Shaking, she pressed her forehead to the post as he stepped away. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him take the whip from its nest among the blankets.
She jumped when he nudged the small of her back. As he dragged up, she realized it was the first part of the whip, the stiff piece just off the handle, with which he caressed her skin. The leather smoothed up her spine, over her bare shoulder. He stepped in and pushed it under her chin, using the taut curve to lift her chin and turn her head up and back so she could see him.
“I can’t have you, Suzana,” he said, voice flat, at odds with the fire in his eyes. “Know that. Not forever and not for my own. Not if you don’t carry my child.”
When she opened her mouth to protest, he shoved the whip at her, just enough to close her jaw. Some of the fire leaked from his eyes, causing his brow to furrow slightly and his nostrils to flare.
“I don’t want you to hope for something that can’t happen.”
Tears welled in her eyes, and he used his free thumb to smear them away.
“The rhaeja himself has declared that he will be your next lover. And what the rhaeja wants, the rhaeja usually gets.”
Was that it, then? Was that why he denied even the possibility that they could be truemates? Because Rhae’s chosen had declared he wanted her?
“The rhaeja enjoys pain, Suzana,” he said in that dark molasses voice. The whip left her chin to slide back down her back. “As do I. I’ve prepared many women for him.” He leaned in toward her ear. “I like it.”
Despite her distress, she squirmed. The whip, like the flogger, began to seem like an extension of his hand. Another part of him to touch her with.
She gasped when he nipped at the bare side of her neck. “I want to watch you dance.” His free hand closed over one cheek of her bottom, squeezing. “I want to mark your ass and your back. My marks!”
She cried out at the vehemence in his voice, still so close to her ear. That hand slid between her thighs from behind, finding her wet center.
“I’m going to mark you, Suzana.” Her pussy clenched around his invading fingers. “I’m going to mark you, and I’m going to fuck you, and I’m going to make you my own, if only for a time.”
She cried out, completely in agreement with all but the last of his statement. She pushed against his fingers, struggling against the strap that bound her to the bed.
He took her mouth, shoving a harsh tongue into her willing mouth as he drove his fingers deep into her channel. She writhed, aching to get more of him, frustrated that she couldn’t.
Then he was gone, her ragged cry following him. She heard the swish of the whip. Knew what it meant. Knew it would hurt. Why did that make her hotter?!
“Scream, Suzana.” The whip cracked, not on her flesh but in the air somewhere behind her. “I want to hear you scream.”
Thwack!
She screamed. Even before the burning pain blossomed on her right buttock. She screamed for him. At him. Anything for him.
“Yes!” Shtack!
Another scream. Lir, that hurt! She pressed the bedpost between her breasts, wrapping her arms as best she could around the sturdy post. Using it as a lifeline as her world centered on the exploding pain in her back.
In rapid succession, the whip laid into her back and buttocks. Tears streamed down her face, into her screaming mouth. She danced like he’d said she would, unable to remain still. She writhed for him, knowing he watched. She took every lash, absorbing the pain as best she could as she gloried that he branded her as his very own.
His own! Even through the pain, the very thought flushed her sex.
The swish-crack stopped. Suzana clutched the bedpost, sobbing. Her back and buttocks were one solid flame.
Strong hands quickly released the thong securing her hands, but she continued to clutch the post. Her death grip was all that kept her from melting into a puddle of agony on the rug. The same hands picked her up bodily, forcing her to release the post. She fell face-first into the blankets, her legs dangling over the edge of the bed. She screamed when Krael covered her with his body, pressing his chest into the burn on her back, his belly crushing her buttocks.
“Mine!” She heard him even though he growled.
“Yours,” she cried, alive with the need for him to take her, to complete the possession. Her very womb wept for him.
Her legs parted and he shoved home. She shrieked, unable to distinguish between the white-hot flames searing her back and the succulent torch of his cock sliding into the clutching depth of her body.
“Krael!” she screamed, slamming back into him with all her might.
He shoved hard, his huge cock stretching her, the hurt from within blending with the hurt from without until she couldn’t tell pain from pleasure, agony from ecstasy. Her orgasm exploded as fiery magma, bursting from her soul to ooze icy hot from every last inch of her.
Krael was seconds behind her, clutching her tight as he filled her to overflowing with wave after wave of liquid love.
She blinked to semi-consciousness as he held her, the oil from his chest smeared into the welts on her back. “I love you, Suzana,” he murmured.
Chapter Thirteen
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Why?”
Suzana lay on her belly, her cheek nestled in a soft pillow. Krael sat beside her, within her sight, tenderly rubbing salve into the welts on her back.
She didn’t question the whipping. After it was done, she’d known somehow that it was necessary. For him. To truly have her, he had to mark her. It was a sign of ownership. She would gladly endure it again if and when he felt the need. She was astounded to have actually enjoyed it on some level. And the warmth in his eyes kindled a spreading warmth that tingled throughout her body.
But that was not her question. “I don’t understand. Doesn’t love mean you are truemates?”
His beautiful eyes watched his hand on her back. The other hand lay on his thigh, holding a small bowl of the salve that smelled of eucalyptus.
“Usually. But not always.”
“No?”
He shook his head. “I’ve seen truemated couples who aren’t in love.”
“How awful.”
He shrugged. “They learn to cope. Most times they develop a relationship with others, either separately or together.”
“What does that mean?”
He smiled. “She may find another man to be with during the times she’s not in heat. Or she may find a woman.”
“A woman?”
That produced a chuckle. “Have you never heard of such a relationship?”
In truth, she had, but she had never witnessed it. She didn’t quite believe that such a thing could last. After all, what did they do? Now that she knew sex, she couldn’t imagine it not involving a man and his cock.
Her eyes drifted to Krael’s cock, watching it nudge slightly as he moved, loving how it seemed to snuggle up against his balls.
She shut her eyes as the urge to cry tried to take her. “I can’t live without you, Krael.”
He sighed softly. Leaning forward, he placed the salve on the table beside the bed. He remained seated beside her, seemingly una
ble to take his eyes from the marks on her back. She watched him, and her heart swelled. The love, the possessiveness, was now easy to read, even in his stern face.
Slowly, she drew to her knees. He watched, bemused, as she crawled before him. His hands readily aided her when she eased herself onto his lap, straddling him. She winced when his hands squeezed the marks on her buttocks as he snuggled her against him. She wrapped her arms about his neck, digging her fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck.
“I don’t want anyone but you.”
“I don’t want to give you up,” he admitted, voice low.
“Truly?”
“Truly.”
“Kill me.”
He stiffened. “What?”
“I won’t live in some other man’s embrace. I won’t be truemated to a man who doesn’t hold my heart.”
“Suza ...”
“Kill me.”
“And if you’re pregnant?”
He admitted the possibility! She swallowed. “After the test. If I’m not pregnant, kill me.”
He scowled, the content of their conversation truly hitting him. “You’re talking insanity.”
“No, my lord. I am yours. I know this with every part of my being. My heart and body are yours to use or abuse as you will. I cannot be with another. Especially the rhaeja. I do not wish to become like that woman who was with him the night of the contest.”
Krael’s eyes widened slightly. Did he think she hadn’t noticed? Did he think her too stupid to put two and two together?
“And I will not be handed to man after man when I know I am yours.”
Krael stared in horrified fascination at the woman curled in his lap. She was absolutely serious, of that he had no doubt. Utter conviction shone in those violet eyes. There were no tears. No protestations. He had been the subject of desire before, had lived through the wiles of women who wailed and moaned to get their way. This was not the case with Suzana. Dry-eyed, she simply asked him to end her life if she could not be his.
And damned if a large piece of his soul didn’t sing for it! Yes! She was right. If she couldn’t be his, she would be no one’s.
She leaned in to kiss the hard muscle just above his nipple. Pressed her lips there to taste the pounding of his heart. “I love you, my one and only lord.” He shuddered.
He smoothed his hand in her hair, holding her face to his chest. “And I love you,” he murmured, astounded by how easily the words spilled from his lips.
“Then, if I can’t be yours, kill me.”
His snarl returned. Gripping her hair, he snapped her head back to meet her shining gaze. “Because I love you, you ask me to take your life?”
“Among my people, it’s a matter of honor. A man’s love is his own. He would never allow her to be sullied by another man.”
“So he would kill her?”
“Yes.”
He grimaced. “Your people sound overdramatic and suicidal.”
Hurt, she tried to push back from him, pulled up short when he refused to relinquish his hold on her hair. “Love is sacred,” she said, voice laced with anger she had not yet shown him. On her, it looked odd. Out of place. “Without it, life has no meaning. I’ve had everything ripped away from me. My home, my family, my freedom. Now you’ve taken my heart. If you deny me, if I’m not yours, I have nothing to live for.”
He caught her up against him despite her struggles to escape. He dug his hands into her buttocks, purposely reminding her of his marks. She subsided, sullen. “Shhh. I insulted your people. For that, I’m sorry.”
“Only for that?” she muttered against his chest.
“Suzana, you can’t ask me to kill you. It’s not our way.”
“Is it your way to pass me to a man who will make me into a blank-eyed sex slave?”
He pulled back, shocked. She speared him with her gaze.
“It’s true, isn’t it? He did that to her.”
He could only frown. Certainly he couldn’t deny it.
“Could you give me over to him? To that? My lord?”
Staring into her beautiful round face, he saw the truth of her words. What kind of man would he be if he handed her into that?
Slowly, he nodded. “No. I can’t. I won’t.” He pulled her against his chest again, and this time she didn’t resist. “I won’t let you go, Suzana. Even if you’re not mine, I’ll kill you before I see you taken away from me.”
Chapter Fourteen
Suzana lay within the warm, tiny world created by the bed beneath her and the man above her. Krael’s whole body surrounded her, his thighs folded beneath hers, his elbows braced to either side of her. His hair completely shrouded them from anything outside their two joined bodies. Slowly, his hips rolled back and forth, tunneling his cock deep within her, then withdrawing slowly so she could feel every ridge and bump on the way out. His hands supported her shoulders, wrapped around them from beneath to brace her. She pressed her forehead to his chest, breathing heavily around the pain in her heart.
Even as her body climbed toward climax, a part of her counted every passing moment. It was day nine, and sometime soon they would come to test her. Sometime soon, they might try to take her away from Krael.
She could not let that happen. She had decided days ago, not long after his heartfelt promise to her, that she would devise a way to take her own life. Just in case he failed her. She wasn’t stupid. She knew he might balk. Even among her own people, where such practice was accepted, it was often difficult for the loved one to complete the actual act. She had yet to decide between hanging herself with one of the thick cords that tied back the curtains on the window, or throwing herself headfirst from the same window. But she was sure either one would do.
“Suza,” Krael groaned, his lips pressed to the top of her head.
Such ragged emotion. Shutting her eyes hard against impending tears, Suzana reached down to clutch both muscular cheeks of Krael’s ass, pulling him closer, demanding more of him even though he already filled her to the brim and beyond. He picked up the pace, stroking faster to spike her arousal. She squirmed, glorying in the way his big body trembled, how his breath caught when she twisted and managed to squeeze him just a bit harder.
“Krael,” she moaned, released into her climax.
“Goddess,” he cursed, joining her.
Neither orgasm was the explosive release she’d come to expect. She didn’t scream; it didn’t hurt. But the heady warmth and spreading ecstasy opened the floodgates of her emotions. She could no longer deny the sobs that threatened. Mortified, she subsided from shakes of pleasure to body-wracking sobs.
Krael pressed his lips to her forehead, his hands clutching her shoulders. “Suzana, don’t cry.”
She tried. But she couldn’t stop. Desperately, she clung to him, her arms wrapped about his middle as far as she was able. When he tried gently to pull her away, she clutched harder.
“I love you,” she breathed, uttering the words for the first time in days.
“Suzana ...” he began, voice stern.
But he was cut off by the sound of the door opening. Suzana didn’t look. She didn’t want to. She didn’t want to see the man who would come to remove her from Krael. She clung like a baby monkey when Krael pushed to kneel and face the newcomers.
“Oh, you have marked her! How very nice.”
She froze. The rhaeja?
“My lord.” Krael’s voice rumbled through her skin. “I’m honored by your presence.”
“I’m sure you are. Have you trained my little mage well?”
Suzana let him unlock her arms from his waist, knowing she was embarrassing him. She didn’t want to cause him grief, but neither did she want to be away from the touch of his skin. She clutched his hand when he would have removed it.
“I have, my lord.”
She peeked through her heavy fall of hair toward the door. The rhaeja stood, thankfully clothed in a pure white robe, just inside the doorway. She was relieved to see that Radin was al
so present, standing in the doorway itself.
“She’s needy, isn’t she?” Valanth observed.
Krael failed to answer.
Suzana watched the white robe blend with Valanth’s loose white hair as he approached the bed. “Very well. Let’s get this over with.”
“My lord, are you testing her?”
“Yes.”
“Again, my lord,” said Radin, stepping into the room, “I must protest. A third party should test her.”
“Do you doubt my word, boy?” Valanth snarled, rounding on Radin.
“No, my lord, but think how it will look. Everyone knows you’ve declared Suzana for yourself. Shouldn’t someone else test her?”
Valanth’s glare narrowed. “Could it be that you just want to taste my little mage?”
Radin smiled cheekily. “Do you blame me, my lord?”
Taste? What did they mean? Suzana watched the exchange with a bleeding heart, not really wanting either man to touch her. As they argued, Krael tugged her toward him. She went willingly and allowed him to arrange her between his spread legs, her marked back to his chest. He scooted forward until both of their legs draped over the side of the bed. With one arm wrapped about her middle, he settled the other with his big hand at the base of her neck. It took a slight squeeze that barely threatened her breath for her to realize. He’d put her in a position where he could throttle her. Or, just by raising the other hand, snap her neck like a twig. She closed her eyes. He intended to keep his promise!
Krael watched the bickering sorcerers warily. He was thankful for Radin’s presence. Without, Krael had no doubts Valanth would simply take Suzana without bothering to test her. But Krael needed that test. It was the one tiny ray of hope that might keep both he and Suzana alive.
But he didn’t count on it. As soon as she was pronounced not pregnant, he’d snap her neck. The moment he did, his life was forfeit. Not only would Valanth be enraged that Krael denied him his “little mage,” but the deliberate taking of a potentially fertile female’s life was cause for death. Valanth was the only known exception to this rule, and that was only because no one could prove he’d killed his truemate or any of the others.