Slowly, gently, he moved his finger in and out of her wet core. Every incursion into that sweet cavern made her muscles clench around him and when he began to twist his finger slowly, he actually heard her purr.
He added his index finger—his goal to stretch her, to accustom her to his girth. He was not a small man and he knew it would be a shock to her when he eased inside her. There would be some discomfort and though he could glamour it away, he felt that would be cheating her of knowing the full sensation of her first time.
His ring finger joined the other two for she was slick from need. Her hips were lifting and falling but he doubted she was even aware she was moving them. Afraid she might thrust against him and break the fragile membrane he could feel with the tip of his middle finger, he put the palm of his other hand on her abdomen to hold her down.
“I need…” she said in a throaty voice. “Garrick I need—”
“I know what you need, wench,” he said. Very gently, very slowly he twisted his fingers inside her. “Just lie as still as you can.”
“Garrick, I can’t,” she whimpered and tried to lift her hips.
She was close to her release and that was what he was striving for. He wanted her to be in the midst of an orgasm when he slipped into her. Any discomfort would be less and the pleasure would continue as his thickness filled her.
He lowered his mouth to her clit and drew it between his lips.
Once again the spindles on the headboard creaked as she pulled mightily on them. He increased the speed of his shallow thrusts into her cunt and suckled her clit, stabbed it with his tongue until her heels were digging deeply into the mattress and she was panting. In between the pants she moaned and her thrashing was music to his ears. At the moment he felt her begin to come, he moved over her, positioning his cock at her entrance.
Her eyes flashed open, her lips parted and she let go of the spindles to fling her arms around his neck as the climax started. As though they had a mind of their own, her legs came up to trap him around his waist and he drove firmly but with care into her quivering cunt.
“Garrick!” she screamed so loudly against the side of his face his ears rang. Her legs were clamping him tightly, her hips arched up in sacrifice to his shaft, her fingers digging into his shoulders. She was meeting him thrust for thrust as her climax rippled around him.
His cock could stand no more and he released his seed deep into her and with every pulse, he felt her shiver until the very last clench of her inner muscles stopped. Yet his orgasm went on, stunning him. He’d never experienced such a hard burst of release. By the time it ended, his arms gave out and he collapsed atop her with her fingers buried in his hair.
“Sweet Merciful Sibylline,” she whispered. “That was…”
Nothing compared to what was about to happen, he thought. He took a deep breath then pulled out of her in one quick glide. The soft, flexible barb at the end of his Panthera cock slid over her ultra-sensitive, orgasm-primed clit and the scream that came from her this time as she climaxed would have deafened him and brought the guards stampeding to his door had he not clamped his palm over her mouth.
Wave after wave of intense pleasure coursed through Antonia’s body. The only thing marring the absolute, exquisite joy of it was not having her husband wedged tightly inside her. She pressed against him savagely as the orgasm became almost painful it was lasting so long. She could feel her eyes bulging and she had to suck air greedily into her lungs through her nose for Garrick had his hand pressed to her lips.
“Enough,” he said, staring hard into her eyes and almost instantly the intense sensation rippling over her nerve endings began to lessen. She could feel sweat trickling down the sides of her face and could not stop the shivering that racked her body.
Carefully Garrick removed his hand from her mouth then rolled to his side, drawing her into the strong clasp of his arms. He tucked her cheek against his shoulder and cupped the back of her head to hold her.
“Hush, love,” he said, slowly and repeatedly making the little shushing sounds that a father would his child. “Calm down. Your heart is racing much too fast.”
“Garrick,” she said and felt tears gathering in her eyes.
“It will always be like that,” he said. “There is no way I can prevent it.”
“I wouldn’t want you to try,” she whispered, shivering so badly her teeth were clicking together.
She felt him smile.
“I gather you rather liked your first time,” he said. He turned his face toward her so he could kiss her forehead.
She smiled too. “It was okay.”
He chuckled. “Then I’ll have to do better next time.”
“Do any better and my body would go up in flames.”
“Well, we can’t have that,” he said. “Perhaps I should simply temper my efforts.”
“I think not,” she said and yawned.
His arms tightened around her. “‘Tis almost dawn and my usual time for sleeping. Do you think you could get used to sleeping during the daylight hours until—”
He stopped and she knew he had been about to mention the Changing but had thought better of it. She flexed her hand against the crisp hair covering his chest.
“You don’t want the Changing, do you?” he asked quietly.
She would not—could not—lie to him. Lies were a good way to ruin a marriage before it even began.
“No,” she said in a small voice. “I truly don’t.”
“There are advantages to it,” he said. “I know we haven’t discussed them but perhaps now is the time to do so.”
She lifted her head, her eyes wide. “You said the Changing was weeks away.”
“It need not ever take place if you are that afraid of it,” he told her.
Hope flared in her chest. “Truly?”
“Let me tell you the advantages then you decide,” he said. “All right?”
She tucked her bottom lip between her teeth and nodded.
“First there is the longevity,” he said. “Vampires never die unless they are staked through the heart, beheaded or—as was the attempted case on my life—staked in the Sun. We are immune to illnesses and disease, all manner of sickness although my being a hybrid I developed migraines at an early age.”
“Your mother was a Vampire?” she asked
“A Hell-hag,” he replied quietly.
“A witch of Bandar,” she wanted clarified. “From the planet Caillagh.”
“Aye. She rose through the Orders of Celestial Descendency until she became One with the Blood and thus a Vampire. My father is Panthera Reaper.”
“And your friend Marcus?” she asked. “Which is he?”
“His mother was a Hell-hag, as well,” he said. “His father was a Lupine Reaper from Faolchú and was the king’s personal bodyguard.”
“Was?”
“There was an assassination attempt three months before Marc was born. Major Zoltán took an arrow meant for the king. Marcus and his mother became members of the royal household and he was raised alongside me in the women’s quarters.”
“I have heard the queen would have had it otherwise,” she said. Her mother had hinted that her daughter’s husband-to-be was an outcast at the palace of Modartha because his father’s wife hated him deeply.
“Queen Maeve would like nothing better than to see me put down like the rabid beast she believes me to be,” he said in a matter-of-fact tone. “I’m sure she was keenly disappointed when she learned I’d survived the staking.”
“Jealousy because of your mother?” she inquired.
“That and the fact that she hasn’t been able to give the king a son,” he said.
“Who gets the kingdom when he passes on?” she asked.
He shrugged. “I’ve no idea what the line of succession looks like. It certainly wouldn’t be me. Leastwise I pray it won’t. I’ve no desire to run a kingdom. Protecting one is hard enough.”
“You will be running Castle Blackthorn when my fa
ther dies,” she reminded him.
“There’s a big difference between a castle and a world, wench,” he said.
“True,” she agreed.
“Then there are the other advantages,” he said, seeming to want to end any discussion of rule.
“Which are?”
“The heightening of the senses. Sight, hearing, taste, smell, touch. They will all become much stronger. If you think the orgasms I just gave you were intense, after the Changing the sensations are heightened ever more.”
“I doubt I would survive if it were any more intense,” she said with a frown.
She didn’t say anything for a long moment and when she didn’t, he crooked his index finger under her chin to tilt up her face.
“You are thinking of the Sustenance,” he said quietly.
Once again Antonia felt tears threatening. “I’m not sure I can…”
“I am not going to force you, Tonia,” he said. “If you do not wish the Changing, I will abide by your choice. There may come a day when you alter your view of it and if that happens, we can visit the discussion again. As much as I want you by my side for eternity, if it disturbs you that much, I understand. If it is your desire to grow old and leave this world when it is your time, I will simply follow you into the arms of the Gatherer.”
“Why?” she asked.
“Because I would not want to remain in this world without you.”
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “I will not countenance that, Garrick.”
“It is not your decision to make.”
“I will have your word,” she said. “Or I will leave this bed and you this very night.”
He tightened his arms around her. “That won’t happen, wench.”
“Then vow to me that when I die you will not follow me in death.”
He shook his head. “I cannot—will not—do that.”
“I am not asking, Garrick. I am demanding,” she said, leveling her gaze with his.
“Don’t ask this of me, Antonia.”
“I am not asking. I am demanding,” she repeated.
“Do you know what you are doing to me?” he queried.
“I will not be the cause of ending your life,” she said. “It is as simple as that.”
“Though I would mourn you for all time?”
“I intend to give you children, Garrick. I would have you here to care for them, to see our children’s children and their children after them.”
He stared at her for a long time then finally dipped his head. “If that is your wish then so be it but know this. Without you at my side I would live in misery for the rest of eternity.”
She felt a tugging at her heart but she brutally tamped it down. “You swear you will not follow me?”
He drew in a long breath then exhaled slowly, raggedly. “I swear though every fiber of my being is screaming in protest.”
Chapter Six
“It came just at sundown,” Marc told him. “Via central command.”
Garrick took the sealed diplomatic pouch and sighed heavily. “If this is what I suspect it is, all hell is about to break loose.”
“Most likely,” Marc agreed.
Holding the brown leather pouch as though it might bite him, Garrick threw his head back and looked up at the ornate ceiling of the library. “Why is it when things are going as good as they can get, something always happens to fuck it up?”
“It’s because you’re not living right,” Marc said. “If you hadn’t thrown away your freedom—”
“Shut up,” Garrick told him.
“Just saying.” Marc nudged him with his foot. “The pouch ain’t gonna open itself, brother.”
It had been only four days since his Joining and Garrick still considered himself on his honeymoon although he and Antonia had yet to take an official one. The rattling of sabers and talk of rebel forces prowling the countryside looking for recruits had made it impossible for him to take his bride beyond the grounds of Castle Blackthorn for fear of harm coming to her. He would take no chances with her life.
But that had not stopped him from venturing out with Marc and Oran to meet with the Modarthan spies who were trying to get a list of the Volakisians who were pushing for war between their two worlds. His main objective was to learn the identity of the man who had been chosen to lead the rebel forces. So far, he had been unable to gather any information concerning that man.
“Once war is declared, there will be no stopping the king,” Garrick said. “He will crush this world and grind the conquered beneath his boot heel.”
“Aye, I suspect he will. They believe they have it bad now? They’ll be in for a very rude awakening,” Marc replied. “The raids the rebels have made against government offices and treasuries hasn’t set well with him or his council.”
“I can understand the Volakisians wanting to be free of our rule,” Garrick said. “Every world should govern itself and not be forced to live under a government hundreds of light years away, overseen by thieving magistrates who are bleeding their world dry.”
“Shut the fuck up!” Marc hissed. “That’s sedition you’re speaking, Rick! The wrong ears hearing that and reporting it could get you executed or at the very least in-coffined for life!”
“There’s no one listening, Zoltán,” Garrick told him.
“You don’t know that for sure!” Marc snapped. “By the goddess, please be careful what you say.”
“I am and I haven’t expressed that opinion to anyone save you,” Garrick mumbled.
“Especially not your lady-wife, I hope,” Marc said.
“She’s not interested in politics and never mentions the war looming on the horizon. I’m sure she has friends among the rebels.”
“Like that prissy Clay bastard,” Marc suggested. “I’ll wager he’s sure as hell one.”
“I’ve yet to meet him,” Garrick said. He unsheathed the dagger strapped to his thigh and put the tip of the blade under the pouch’s sealed flap.
“Consider yourself lucky. He vanished before the Joining. Before that, he was always skulking about trying to get the lady alone.”
Garrick stopped what he was doing and looked over at his friend. “What does that mean?” he demanded.
“From what I learned from her lady’s-maid, the sneaky prick has deep feelings for your woman and has for years,” Marc answered. “Her mother kept telling him he wasn’t her Chosen but apparently the dickwad has a thick head and refused to believe it. By all accounts he was very annoyed when you showed up at Blackthorn and swept the lady out from under his nose.”
“Was he now?” Garrick asked. “He’s the one I suspect issued the orders for me to be staked.”
“And you didn’t think to tell me to be watching his swishy ass?” Marc queried.
“I had other things on my mind.”
“The least of which appears to be your fucking life!” Marc ground out in a disbelieving tone. “Why did you suspect him?”
“I saw him as they were carrying me upstairs that night. There was something about the way he looked at me, the disappointment and anger on his face that caught my attention. I asked the Sargent-at-Arms who he was and was told he was a trusted friend of the family.”
“If he is and he tried to kill you, that means he’s with the rebels,” Marc stated. “And if that’s the case that means the baron is too.”
“I’m sure every aristocrat on Volakis is,” Garrick said. “Were the tables reversed, wouldn’t you be?”
“Probably,” Marc grumbled. “But how safe can it be for you to be living in what you know is most likely a rebel stronghold?”
“Better to be where you can keep an eye on your enemy than to have him come at your back when you don’t know who he is,” Garrick replied.
“Has it occurred to you that’s a good way for the rebels to keep an eye on you?” Marc inquired.
“It is what it is, Marc,” Garrick answered.
Marc ran his hand through his hair. “I don’t like
this, Rick. Not one fucking bit. If Clay is a so-called trusted friend and he tried to murder you, what does that say about the baron?”
“I have no reason to believe the Blackthorns wish me ill,” Garrick said. “From the moment Lady Maripose nudged me toward staying here with Antonia I knew she was attempting to straddle the fence. No matter what happens in this conflict, she intends to be on the winning side. She was hedging her bets by suggesting I allow Tonia to remain here.”
“I intend to bring in our own people to keep an eye on things here,” Marc told him.
“If the declaration of war is in this pouch, I will commandeer the castle and use it as our base of operations. We’ll move my staff in, cordon off the estate with troops and position guards at the doors like any other headquarters. I seriously doubt my life will be in danger here but if posting a bodyguard or two around me and my wife will make you feel better—”
“It will,” Marc snapped.
“Then that’s what you should do, Capt. Zoltán.”
“Oh, trust me, it will be done, General! Somebody has to look after your crazy ass!”
* * * * *
“Well, we knew it was coming,” the baron said with a loud sigh. “The castle is at your command, milord General.”
“I will see to it my men respect your privacy and maintain the autonomy of your estate but I must tell you, Your Grace. If we catch any rebels trying to spy on us or cause mischief, they will be dealt with harshly.”
“I am sure you know I side with my fellow Volakisians in this conflict,” the baron said.
“I do and I’m sure you know you are suspect with the king,” Garrick replied.
“Your king has nothing to fear from my household, General. We would be foolish to allow anything to happen to you or your men while you are at Blackthorn. I have no intention of having my lands be confiscated or devastated by this war. They are your lady-wife’s legacy to the children you and she shall have one day.”
“I understand your predicament, Your Grace, but as long as you maintain a semblance of neutrality and keep your people from hindering us, there should be no problem.”
“Consider it so,” the baron said. He nodded then continued on to his bedchamber as though he’d not been informed that his ancestral home had been seized by the Modarthan army.
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