by Genia Avers
He stroked until she thought her skin might catch fire. At last, he parted her and began to probe the moist folds within. Subena licked her dry lips as they parted, a keening of need surprising her.
She abandoned her plan to make him stop. She wanted his touch. And more.
The opera seemed like a distant melody, the perfect backdrop for the play being acted inside the box. Kamber teased her thighs with his tongue as his fingers played with her triangle of hair. She wanted more than his fingers, she wanted his tongue, she wanted his penis.
Kamber spread her legs wider. She didn’t put up even a token resistance. How did the cur always know exactly what she needed?
Her heart raced and her breasts became heavy. Her nipples peaked, as sensitive as the flesh between her thighs. Every fiber of her being came alive, became aroused.
“Kamber,” she whispered, immediately forgetting what she’d meant to say. He mesmerized her, this man from her dreams. Only better. So much better. “I…ah...”
His mouth began to explore her, taste her. The sensation made her body jerk. She gripped the arms of her chair and bit into her tongue to keep from moaning.
Opera. Remember that.
Mercy. She almost didn’t care whether anyone noticed. They might’ve been on a deserted island, not in the middle of a crowded opera house. She didn’t care. Her brain had lost all reason.
Kamber’s tongue stroked a heated, moist path across her center. He halted to blow air over her most sensitive spot. Her hips came off the chair, arched forward, oblivious to everything.
His tongue felt like magic as it darted and suckled. How much more of his exquisite torture could she endure without screaming?
She tried to rise from her slumped position, but he spread her legs wider and pulled her hips closer to his mouth. His maneuver pressed her back against the balcony chair as he tasted her.
Oh gads, but he was good. So good.
She wanted his body inside her. Not in the theater. So where?
Her brain tried to relay the message. Public place. Her senses refused to listen. Her hips rose to meet his wonderful, talented mouth, her pelvis ground against his face. She’d lost all control of her needy body, too aroused to be embarrassed.
Kamber lapped, alternating between thrusting his tongue and sucking on her engorged clitoris. She stifled a whimper. Letting her head loll, she imprisoned his head between her knees.
Zing. The sound reverberated into her ears. The noise wasn’t loud, but the reverberation had been so close to her hypersensitive ears it sounded like an explosion. Kamber stopped touching her.
He shoved her seat further into the box. His strength tore the bolts from the chair’s legs and sent the seat crashing into the back wall. The noise echoed through the opera house.
“What…happened?” Subena blinked, trying to bring herself back into reality. She didn’t want real. She wanted Kamber to resume his delicious torment.
“Why did you do that?” she asked, keeping her voice low.
Her gaze darted to the orchestra. The musicians had stopped playing. Everyone stared. “Bockle.”
Bless the darkness. She looked down, intending to maim Kamber.
He was gone. Gone. How the devil did he do that? The ancients were fast, but she’d never heard of anyone who could disappear in the blink of an eye.
She’d make him teach her that trick. No. She’d kill him first and make him explain later.
How dare he leave her in semi-quiver? Worse, the dysfunctional idiot had left her to face the crowd. Alone.
The door to her opera box swung open. Two guards rushed in. One grabbed her. The other aimed a weapon into the mass of people.
“What are you doing?” Was sex at the opera a crime in Gatsle?
“Come with me. Hurry.” The guard didn’t wait for her reaction. He grabbed her arm and catapulted her toward the door.
Subena tried to understand his actions. The guard moved so fast, she tripped. When she stumbled a second time, he lifted her into his arms. Then, he broke into an all-out sprint.
At the main entrance of the opera house, he set her on her feet. She saw her husband running down the cobblestone street.
Please, Bockle. Let the guard be a good guy.
Chapter Twenty-Three
She’d left the door unlocked. Kamber wondered if it were a good thing, or a bad thing.
“You planned that?” Subena glared at him from her sitting room, her face a beautiful mask. Only her clenched fist warned him of the furor that awaited him.
“No…eh…yes. I mean…”
She picked up a painted vase and hurled it at his head.
God, she’s beautiful when she’s angry, Kamber thought, just before he ducked. Based on what he’d learned of his little wife, he suspected she used anger to mask her fear. Someone tried to kill her, yet Subena hadn’t even mentioned that small detail.
“Come on, Bena. You could have hurt me with that thing.”
“We both know I couldn’t hurt you with a little bit of glass.”
“Why are you mad? Because I gave you pleasure?”
“Pleasure?” She stood, planting her hands on her hips. Her long hair fell over her shoulder, shadowing one eye. She looked delectable.
Whoa. Someone had shot at her. Or him. How could he think of sex now?
“I can think of nothing less pleasurable,” she snapped, “than embarrassing myself in front of the entire opera. What if we’d decorated the walls?” She slapped her hand over her mouth.
“So you noticed, too?” He’d had his suspicions after their wedding night, but being too embarrassed to ask his mother or Remington for specifics, he’d consulted one of his former tutors, the oldest male in Gatsle. The elf said he’d read about passion creating magic, but had never seen such a spectacle.
Still, he hadn’t even considered that pleasuring her might add to the Opera House’s artwork. Nor had he checked.
So what? If they’d added anything to the dark walls, no one else would know the cause.
“What if someone had seen us, Kamber?”
Judging by the pitch of her voice, the next object she hurled would not miss its target. And she did have a point. He only wished she could see his. “You didn’t embarrass yourself. I made sure that wouldn’t happen.”
“You left me—”
“Frustrated?” he suggested.
“Alone,” she snarled. “You left me alone.”
He almost smiled. She meant frustrated. That was good, right?
He hadn’t meant to leave her hanging. Hell, he’d been in tough shape, too. Still was.
His goal had been to please her, and okay, himself, too. He could still smell her on his hands and mouth. He smiled, feeling the beginnings of arousal.
“Don’t you dare laugh at me.”
“I’m not laughing at you.”
She flashed him a look that should have burned him into a crispy critter. “How did you get in and out of the opera box so fast?”
He smiled. Every Mydrian he’d encountered had been curious about the ancient skills. He’d expected her to be curious, but he hadn’t expected a direct question. “I inherited my speed from my grandfather. According to legend, all our kind had great speed in the olden days.”
“That wasn’t speed,” she snapped. “I didn’t even see you move. You were there…and then you weren’t.”
“It’s just speed, angel. I can move very fast. There are a few advantages to being a backward Neanderthal.”
She frowned. “Can all Gatslian’s do that?”
“No.” It was his turn to frown. Did anyone else have his speed? He didn’t think so.
“Just you, huh?” she replied, seeming to read his thoughts. “Why do you suppose our people have lost so many of the ancient skills?”
“Genetics.”
Her eyes narrowed.
“What?” he asked. “You think I haven’t evolved and therefore can’t possibly understand genetics?”
She smir
ked. “I know you haven’t evolved, but tell me what you mean anyway.”
He shrugged. “Legend has it our kind mated with humans before they came to this planet. My theory is the human traits became more prevalent with each generation as the two species merged. I think that’s the real reason we were banished to this planet. Everyone who wasn’t human enough had to go.” He didn’t add that he thought human traits were most prevalent in Mydrians. He might not be evolved, but he wasn’t stupid.
She didn’t speak for several seconds. He’d expected that. His Bena thought things through before she acted. Some might say that made her a perfect compliment to his tendency toward rash actions.
He grinned. He would definitely say that.
“Tell me,” she said. “Can you fly, too?”
“Fly?” He chuckled. “I wish I could, but even I’m not that much of an anomaly.”
“I never said you were an anomaly.” She narrowed her eyes. “An inconsiderate ass, maybe, but I didn’t say anomaly. I saw…never mind.”
He grinned. He’d ask her what she’d seen later. “Call me anything you like, I’m just so relieved you’re…” Realization invaded his brain. She could have been killed. The blow-dart had been made of silver.
Kamber swallowed hard. He was an idiot. Since she wouldn’t let him touch her in the palace, he’d thought if he could get her to climax at the opera, just maybe she’d want him back in her bed.
Dumb plan. Thank the God of the Mountain he’d heard the whiz of the first dart. A few seconds later, he might’ve been too aroused to notice.
“So relieved I’m what?” Subena persisted.
The extent of his miscalculations embarrassed him. He’d ordered the guards to stand by the door. Only as a precaution.
He hadn’t really expected her to make any noise, but if she’d screamed at the critical moment, he would’ve opened the door as a signal for his guards to take her away. He’d planted an arrow, a wooden one, in the box and would have reported an attempt on her person—thus a scream would be justified. He hadn’t expected the attempt to be real, or to include a silver dart.
But he was the only one who knew about his plan.
If the guards hadn’t burst into the opera box, another dart would certainly have followed the one that barely missed Subena’s head.
“Why are you so relieved?” Subena’s voice sounded insistent. He shuddered, remembering the horrible sound the weapon had made when it lodged into the wall behind them.
“Kamber, talk to me.”
He licked his lips, wondering how to explain. After everything, he wanted her so much his mouth wouldn’t work right—at least not to talk. When had the ice princess thawed his heart?
She picked up a book, planning to throw it at him no doubt. Even when she was angry, his body reacted to her. Her life had been in danger—was still in danger—and he was aroused.
Kamber forced his brain to control his body. She needed a guardian, not a lover.
“Don’t throw. I’ll explain.” Fear for her safety made his voice harsher than he’d intended. He had to make her understand. She couldn’t remain in Gatsle.
She lifted the book over her head. He sped toward her, grabbed her wrist before she saw him move. “There’s a real danger….owww!”
She kneed him, barely missing the most important part of his anatomy. His thigh ached and he knew it would be several minutes before he could walk normally.
He flung her onto the sofa and pressed his body on top of her. She kicked and fought like a possessed demon. He thanked the God of the Mountain for her small stature.
She went limp. Smart lady.
He lay atop her, his legs holding hers down. He used one arm and his chest to restrain her arms. He had his other hand over her mouth and used all his energy to keep from kissing her.
He had to convince her before he released his hold, otherwise there’d be hell to pay. Dung, there’d be hell to pay anyway.
“Subena, please listen.”
She harrumphed into his hand.
“I planned a bit of a diversion.” Kamber hurried his explanation. “I didn’t think we’d need the soldiers. I stationed them outside the box…just in case.”
He removed his hand from her mouth, but he kept her pinned on the sofa with his body. He waited for the bloodcurdling screech.
It didn’t come. When she spoke, her voice was cold—far more sinister than any scream. “In case what?”
He grinned, “In case you, you know…you made love noises. You’ve done so on several occasions.” He felt her start to struggle and then go limp again.
The rage left her beautiful expression. “Let me up.”
His grin disappeared. He wasn’t fooled by her control—she’d still kill him when he released her. “Promise me you won’t throw anything.”
She didn’t speak but she hurled daggers with her eyes.
“Subena, promise? If you behave, I’ll show you where the blood comes from.”
Kamber knew she was curious, but she didn’t respond to his bribe. “Let. Me. Up.”
He studied her face and decided to risk it. She sat slowly, not looking in his direction.
“You know you have to go back to Mydrias,” he said.
That got her attention. Her eyes widened and a tinge of pink colored her exquisite skin. She said nothing.
He hoped her change of expression indicated she didn’t want to leave Gatsle, but her countenance could also mean she couldn’t wait to get away from him.
He waited for her to ask why. She didn’t.
Her gaze burned into his eyes. His face turned red when suddenly, and inexplicably, his pants tightened. What the hell? How could her anger turn him on?
He stood, turning his back to her and hoping she hadn’t noticed. She remained on the sofa, inert and unmoving.
“Subena,” he tried again, “I know you’re mad, but my stunt saved your life. When you screamed…”
“I did not scream.”
He suppressed a chuckle. Laughter, of any sort, would be a colossal mistake. “Okay, when you, ah…whimpered and showed me those sexy ears of yours, I heard the dart zipping toward us. After I shoved you, I saw the man who’d fired it, but he’d cloaked his face. I ordered the second guard to help me catch him, but the shooter vanished in the streets.”
“If you’re making this up to keep me from killing you, I will kill you.”
Kamber wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. Somehow, he managed to keep his face expressionless. “I promised I’d never lie to you. I’m telling the truth.”
She shook her head, sending her hair swirling around her waist, drawing his attention to her breasts—like his gaze wouldn’t go there anyway. “Seriously, Kamber. Why would anyone want to kill me?”
“I don’t know. But someone is trying to hurt you. Someone attacked the carriage you should have been in, tampered with your saddle, gave you poisoned chocolates, and now this...I won’t take any more chances with your safety. I must take you back to Mydrias.”
She paced. He waited, hoping she wouldn’t argue with him. He wanted her to stay so badly, she could easily change his mind. She wasn’t safe in Gatsle.
Realization struck Kamber harder than a fist. He loved her.
“If someone’s trying to kill me,” she said, “and I haven’t accepted that as fact, we may never know who is behind these schemes if I leave Gatsle.”
She stopped, reached behind her head, and gathered all her hair with one hand. He followed her movement, fascinated. The motion pressed her nipples against the fabric of her dress.
He turned away. Watching his new bride was too distracting. He needed to be alert, not lust-impaired. “If you stay, you might die. I cannot risk that.”
She walked to him and tugged on his shoulder, forcing him to look at her. “You cannot risk it? Since when can’t I make my own decisions?”
“You can. Of course you can. But be reasonable. I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to you.”
“You, you, you. Be quiet and let me think.” She marched back and forth across the room several times. “The only person who wants me dead is Rekita.”
“Rekita?”
“If you dare defend that harpy, you won’t have to worry about my death. I’ll be hanged for murdering you.”
“Maybe it’s Reklaw,” he challenged, not really believing the duke would harm Subena.
“Why would he do that?”
“I don’t know. Maybe he thinks if he can’t have you, no one else…”
“There’s no way Tas is behind this. He…”
“He what? Loves you? Don’t be naïve, princess. The only person your duke loves is himself.”
“Not that it matters, but I was going to say Taslin would only benefit from your death, not mine. Rekita is the obvious villainess. She wants you and she wants to be queen.” A pained expression doused the angry sparkle in her eyes. “And if it weren’t for the treaty, she might already have both.”
“Nonsense. I would never marry her.”
“Really? Even with your bastard in her belly?”
“Bastard in her…” Kamber’s mouth went dry. “That’s not possible.” He didn’t believe he could make Rekita pregnant, but he’d worried about that very thing.
“Why not?” Subena’s silver eyes blazed. “Rekita says otherwise.”
“Because our kind can only reproduce with one’s true mate.”
She stared at him open-mouthed for several seconds and then she started to laugh. “Oh, please,” she mumbled between snickers. “How do you explain all your siblings? You can’t possibly believe that ancient nonsense. Are you saying your parents are true mates? They can barely stay in the same room with each other, yet they have four sons.” She looked up at him, horrified. “I’m sorry… I overstepped.”
He shook his head. “No, I appreciate your candor, but you’re wrong. My father and Winsome didn’t reproduce.”
She stopped pacing and stared.
He snorted. “Don’t worry, princess, your research is not faulty.” She’d no doubt studied his family tree. “After my mother died, my father officially changed the records. He believed my birth mother had betrayed him. As in most things, Rothart was wrong.”