He’d had enough. In her present mood, she’d savage his cock. Tamping down his distress over Gabriella’s safety, he decided to deliver a reminder of his own—one that would satisfy both their lusts, but leave her with no doubts about why she kept him as a paramour.
Marduk lunged for her, digging his fingers into her soft shoulders.
Irkalla curled her fingers and raked his chest with her nails, drawing blood, which only excited her hunger more. The teeth at the upper corners of her feral smile extended, her pupils dilated, and darkness consumed even the whites of her eyes.
However, he was stronger, his passions running deeper; he turned her to face the mattress and leaned over, trapping her as she wriggled in his grasp. Mindful of the attendants listening at the door, he whispered harshly, “Is your arrogance so great you forget what I am?”
Her muffled reply was lost among the feathers spilling from the mattress where her teeth had raked slashes in the tucking.
“I’ve faced forces beyond your imagination. You may be a Born bitch, but I’m stronger. You should fear me. My fire would destroy you.”
Her fury ran unabated as she bucked and heaved. He brought his weight down on her and roughly parted her legs with his knees, shoving them wide. At the same time, he drew her arms up behind her; straining tendons forced her to lie still or risk ripping her arms from their sockets.
However, as he well knew, fury fed her passion. Her arousal scented the air.
Her struggles had inflamed him as well, and he aimed his cock between her legs, found the dampness between her legs and crammed his cock upward, halting Irkalla’s next muffled shriek.
Fully seated, he leaned close again. “Now that I have your attention, darling, I’m going to let go of your arms. Come up on your knees.”
When he dropped her wrists, she slowly brought them to her sides and lifted her torso from the mattress, spitting feathers.
He smiled at her docility, knowing that if she turned her face toward him now, he’d see her features were slackening, softening, the primal darkness in her gaze bleeding away as her sensuality overtook her bloodlust.
Lest she forget this was punishment, he wrapped her long hair in his fist and pulled back her head. Then he stroked his hips forward, riding her flanks; pounding her buttocks with sharp slaps as her moist center melted around him.
The first fluttering ripples of her orgasm caressed his shaft, and he rewarded her with a flurry of thrusts that built heated friction against her inner walls. She danced on his cock, her bottom shivering, jerking, until at last she howled and grew limp in his grasp.
Marduk lowered her to the bed, pulled out and turned her, proving his lack of fear by rolling to his back, pulling her thighs astride his hips, and plunging upward to spear her with his sex again.
Irkalla, her face reddened, her lips bruised and bitten, trained her moist gaze on him. Then she braced her small hands against his shoulders and began to rock forward and back. “Do I please you?” she asked in a subdued whisper.
“Not yet, love,” he said softly. “Would you like to taste my passion for you?”
Her entire body trembled, and she nodded.
Gripping her slight waist, he pulled her off his cock and shoved her down the bed. Then he caressed her face with both hands and aimed her mouth over his cock.
Her groan as she suckled him vibrated against his sensitive head. He petted her, combing her hair with his fingers, raking her scalp and tugging her closer.
Her jaws widened, gliding down, her teeth carefully shielded behind her lips, coming off him to lick the length of his shaft, swirling her tongue along his rigid length, and then diving beneath to mouth his balls.
She painted him with the moisture of her mouth, suckling his balls one at a time and laving them richly, her soft mouth tugging and building a sensual tension he felt all the way to his toes.
His thighs tensed, and he raised his knees slightly to dig his heels into the mattress. He pumped his hips upward, stroking at air until she ceased her teasing gobbles and returned to his aching shaft.
Her soft hands surrounded him, gliding up and down, pulling the foreskin down the shaft and up. Her lips kissed his tip, rubbing over the crown, her eyes closing as her tongue lapped a bead of arousal from the slit.
“I taste you. I taste her.” Her sharp-eyed gaze speared him. “She’s not human, milord.”
“What does your clever tongue discern?”
Her nose wrinkled. “Wolf.”
He smiled at her as though grateful for her cleverness, but he’d known the moment he’d pulled Gabriella over his shoulder and smelled her skin. It’s why he’d entered the bath. To entice her to join him and wash away the scent before anyone else noticed.
“Shall it be our secret?” he said. “See how long it takes for her to reveal her nature?”
Irkalla smiled and opened wide, sliding down his cock with more conviction now that she’d given him something he hadn’t commanded. She thought she’d taken back control.
He let her think it while he took his pleasure from her. While she was consumed with greedy lust, she couldn’t think beyond her own arousal. Keeping her on the edge had been a strategy he’d employed throughout their long relationship.
From time to time, Irkalla needed reminders like these that he was one demon who would never accept a leash—even one as rich and pleasurable as what she offered. She didn’t respect anyone willing to reside under her dominion.
And while he played at paying homage to her rank, they both knew who ruled the relationship. He had only to give her a single fierce glare and she became wet. When he placed her in stocks and whipped her, she trusted him enough not to fear he would betray her, offering a woman’s sweet cream for the powerful arousal his domination provided.
Gabriella was similarly affected. For now, she remained submissive only because she was uncertain of her fate. When she grew more confident, he would have his work cut out to prove his mastery.
Irkalla hadn’t offered him a true challenge in eons. Excitement over the thought of the battles to come with Gabriella hardened his balls to the point of bursting.
Irkalla murmured around him, her mouth suctioning harder. She mistook the source of his growing excitement, which amused him.
His fingers dug into her scalp, forcing her to take him deeper. He thrust hard against the back of her throat, heard her soft choking sounds and smiled. “Open your throat. You’ll swallow my seed, mistress.”
Irkalla’s hands tightened around the base of his cock, squeezing hard as she pumped up and down. Her mouth caressed his shaft, her tongue swirled down his length. Her throat opened and closed, swallowing around him, caressing the crown, and then opened again to take him deeper.
Holding her hair in his fist, he pumped his hips upward, slamming down her throat until his balls exploded and ropes of semen spurted into her.
She swallowed greedily, moans vibrating around him until she’d wrung every last drop.
His hand loosened on her hair, and she lifted, coming off his cock to tilt her face toward him. “Please,” she begged.
And because she was the perfect supplicant, he widened his legs and cupped his balls and cock, lifting them away. “Drink, love.”
Her face dove between his legs, her tongue skimming over his inner thigh up into his groin. Then she pierced him, and blood began to flow from the twin wounds she’d made.
Again, his cock filled even as blood streamed out of him, enticed by her vampire’s allure into full-blown arousal. He needed her to cast for him, needed her to supplant his natural need for the woman in his chamber so that he could please the creature filling her belly on his lifeblood.
For as long as Irkalla believed he loved her, the woman he’d decided would fill his lonely heart would be safe.
CHAPTER
7
Guntram reached down to offer Simon a hand, grasping it and heaving him over the edge of the parapet. Ducking down, they huddled for a moment with their bac
ks against the crenellated wall while they caught their breath. They sat hidden by the shadows cast by a huge moon hovering over the tall dunes in the distance.
The climb up the sandstone wall had invigorated him, allowing him to expend some of the pent-up energy his worry and frustration had built up. As always, the physical challenge left him feeling relaxed despite the danger pressing closer, making it easier to think.
Wiping his sweaty face with his sleeve, he took stock of where they sat.
The walkway at the top of the fortress was approximately ten feet wide and stretched the length of a long curtain wall. No guards were within sight or scent—not patrolling the walkway or stationed in the tall parapets at the corners of the fortification, which seemed odd. Why build a wall if you didn’t have enemies ready to invade?
“Where do we go from here?” he whispered to Simon, who was taking a little longer to catch his breath.
Simon reached out and gripped his forearm, then dragged himself up. “We’ll head to one of the towers and make our way down to the city streets.”
“Are there no guards?”
“Not the sort you’re expecting, I imagine,” Simon murmured. “Guards patrol inside the city. Anzu-birds keep watch from above—and occasionally the lillum, especially nasty creatures. Keep an eye peeled toward the sky.” Taking another deep breath, he shoved away from the wall. “Come, we have to keep moving.”
Crouching to keep their heads below the top of the wall, they hurried down the wallwalk to the nearest tower. Guntram paused at the doorway, peering down the dark, spiraling stone steps. Simon gave him a shove from behind. “Keep moving. We’ll have no problems until we’re inside the fortress.”
Guntram took him at his word. The mage had been right so far. Ducking, he entered the stairs and felt a hot breeze whipping upward, evaporating the rest of the sweat beading on his forehead.
Stealthily, they hurried down the darkened tower toward the street, with Guntram wondering all the while about a for-tress free from watchful guards. Unease crept along his spine. Guntram didn’t like surprises, and wished he’d had more time to learn about the terrain and the dangers lurking before he’d come.
At the bottom of the steps, a doorway opened directly onto a city block. Pausing again, he hugged the door frame and peered up and down the narrow cobblestone street, not unlike those he’d walked in medieval townships. The smells that assaulted his nose were familiar as well: urine, feces, decaying bodies. He wrinkled his nose in disgust.
However, it was the sounds of the place that sent a chill up his spine. Low, mournful wails and cries rose in the air. Crackling crunches emanated from darkened doors and alleyways—like bones being ground by powerful jaws.
“Don’t stop now,” Simon said, shoving him again.
They kept close to the outer curtain wall. On the opposite side of the street were doorways leading into multistoried houses and establishments. Huddled on stoops and in corners were lumpy bodies dressed in ragged, filth-encrusted clothing.
Simon darted across the street to one doorway. Guntram followed.
Simon pulled a leather bag from a pocket and extracted two gold coins, purchasing smelly robes from two men huddled close whose dry-eyed gazes didn’t see beyond the shiny coins.
Guntram grimaced when Simon passed him one of the robes, but didn’t hesitate to pull it on to hide his clothing. Now, they looked just like the rest of the pitiful creatures hiding in the shadowed doorways.
Then they were off again, Simon keeping his back to the wall, his gaze lifting to the star-filled sky above the darkened streets.
That’s when Guntram heard it—a loud, piercing roar and the flap of huge, feathered wings.
They darted toward a stoop, melting into the shadows as they watched one of the winged creatures with the head of a lion and a powerful eagle-like body swoop down, pluck a woman from a doorway, and disappear into the sky again.
Guntram shuddered at the screams that faded into the night.
Simon darted out again, Guntram on his heels, and they ran, turning a sharp corner and coming to a doorway. Simon rapped on the wooden door with three quick and one single heavy knocks in succession.
Footsteps scuffled on the other side, the door cracked, and a single eye peered outside. Then the door flew open, and Simon slid inside.
Guntram glanced once more around the alleyway and slipped in behind him, closing the door. The smell of offal from the street didn’t penetrate the room. Something he noted gratefully.
Simon and an old man embraced, and then held each other at arm’s length. The old man’s eyes teared up. “Good to see you, old friend.”
Simon’s smile was tight but genuine. “Ninshubur, we need a place to rest until tomorrow night.”
“You must stay with me. I can’t believe you’re here,” the old man said, his voice breaking. “I thought the knock was a trick my mind was playing.”
“It’s been a long, long time.”
“Longer for you, no doubt,” the old man said, grinning. Finally, he peered beyond Simon’s shoulder. “Come deeper inside. You must eat. Then I’ll let you rest. I can only offer pallets. My circumstances have fallen since last we met.”
Simon nodded. “Inanna has much to answer for.”
“I should never have aligned my fate with hers.”
“You’ve heard that she has returned.”
“There’s little else buzzing around the palace. Irkalla’s crowing. But please, sit. Then you must tell me everything.”
Guntram glanced around the room furnished only with two chairs, a table, and a shelf-like bed. At least everything looked clean. After the refuse in the streets, he felt as though the scents permeated his skin. He dragged the robe over his head and tossed it next to the door.
“Not here,” Ninshubur said, when Guntram would have taken one of the rough chairs. The old man led them through a doorway at the back of the room, and into an apartment. At the light of a candle, Guntram’s eyebrows rose.
Rich mosaic tiles decorated the floor with images of the sun, moon, and several constellations. The walls were painted a deep midnight blue. A sumptuous bed with the mussed covers thrown back betrayed where the old man had been when they knocked. An ornate table of dark wood with a tiled top stood in one corner. Chairs with upholstered seats surrounded it.
Ninshubur must have noticed Guntram’s bemusement at the contrast between his outer room and this chamber. “I smuggled in some of my furnishings before I was banished from court,” he said, rheumy eyes twinkling. “But I must keep up outward appearances or become a target for thieves. No one knows about this room.”
Guntram grunted and dropped into one of the comfortable chairs at the table. As the elderly man bustled about, serving them bread, cheese, and wine, Guntram fought the same restlessness that had plagued him for days. His fingers drummed the table.
“Relax, Guntram. There’s nothing more we can accomplish,” Simon assured him. “We’ll find her tomorrow night.”
“Will she be well?” he asked, wishing the time-traveling mage would share some of what he already knew.
“She hasn’t come to any lasting harm.”
Guntram’s gaze sharpened at the ambiguous response.
Simon cleared his throat. “It won’t be easy to extract her from her current circumstance.”
“But she has come to no … lasting harm. Has she been raped, then?” he asked quietly.
Simon’s tight smile didn’t calm his fears. Gabriella was a proud woman. To be taken by force would be worse for her than death. But he could tell Simon wouldn’t say any more.
Resigned to cool his heels again, he drank down the beverage Ninshubur set in front of him. The drink was sweet, like fermented honey. He drained it and slapped the cup on the table.
Ninshubur laughed. “You’ll have a headache come morning.”
“But I’ll sleep well.” He had a feeling he’d need all the rest he could get.
Gabriella stood on the balcony. Moo
nlight painted the barren landscape stretching as far as she could see in shades of silver and gray. Marduk had been gone for hours, and she’d chased Xalia away after she’d been bathed and dressed, and candles around the room had been lit. The demon girl gave her a major case of the willies despite the fact she seemed harmless and sincere in her wish to serve her. Gabriella hoped Marduk never invited her to join them in bed.
She’d pleaded exhaustion, wanting time alone to thoroughly explore the room, which she had to no avail. There was nothing she could use as a weapon and no hidden accesses. The pool’s drainage spout was too narrow for her hips to ever fit through, as was the pipe servicing a toilet. The only way out was through the door, which was locked, or out the window. But the drop was a long one to the desert floor, and besides, she didn’t think she’d find a way home there. Her escape route had to be somewhere inside this fortress. Perhaps through the mirror in the hall, if she could access it like Alex’s from this side before the hellhounds or the dinner guests ate her.
If there was another way out, she’d find it, but first she had to gain Marduk’s trust so that he’d let her out of this room. Then maybe she’d find an ally, someone she could bribe, but with what?
She shuddered, remembering what Marduk said about how valuable a live creature from the other realm was. Maybe she’d have to trade favors or blood for information. Unless Guntram found her first.
Closing her eyes, she prayed. Something she never did. She hadn’t needed prayers before, having always relied on her silent protector to keep her safe. But she prayed now, and not just for herself. Guntram would be out of his depth here. He might be a fearsome warrior, but he needed a sadistic sort of cleverness to maneuver here.
Still, thoughts of him wading into a fray on her behalf, his strong features tight and feral, warmed her heart. Again she wondered why she’d resisted her attraction to him. A man willing to lay down his life for a woman, a man willing to see her happy above his own self-interest was worth more than foolish pride.
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