by Jayla Jasso
“Yes.”
“Then love and protect her, Yavi. You have my blessing.”
Yavi grasped the old monk’s hand in gratitude.
Yajna cleared his throat. “I hate to interrupt, but now that Uman has the ruby, Master, I fear that will only embolden him in his quest. It may cause more Nandals to join his ranks. And Tejeshwar appeared to Jiandra at the temple in Nirren and told her Yavi and I must prove our worth by achieving victory over this enemy.”
Yavi spoke up. “We know there must be some way to kill the Vyrkune if Tejeshwar ordered us to fight victoriously. We just don’t know what it is.”
Volkan paced to the window. He turned back to address Yavi. “Do you still have the sword of the Zulfikars? The one your father gave you?”
“Yes, it’s in my quarters at the palace in Darpan.”
“There is a legend that Emperor Archan of the Zulfikars fought Vyrkune with it. Centuries ago.”
“Archan?” Yajna furrowed his brow. “I do not know this name. Do you, brother?”
Yavi shook his head. “I’ve never heard of him.”
“Varyn never spoke to you much of your family’s history because he didn’t want to incite a lust for the throne in his sons. He knew that would only bring sorrow and trouble.”
Tears stung Yavi’s eyes at the mention of his father. “He was wise.”
Volkan placed a hand on Yavi’s shoulder. “He was also unaware that Tejeshwar had chosen you to re-establish the Zulfikars’ right to rule.”
Yavi glanced at Yajna. “He chose both of us.”
“Yes, but you are the swordsman. You must wield the black sword against the Vyrkune.”
Yavi nodded. “I am ready. Once Uman has gathered his forces at his fortress at Faril, he will no doubt attack Darpan again and try to take the palace. The Vyrkune soldiers are gathering even now, and will probably reach Darpan before we do. They run as fast as horses, and will devour any flesh in their path. We need to send a courier immediately to tell Manck and Captain Harshad to evacuate and fall back until Yajna and I can retrieve the sword from the palace and prepare our attack.”
“I will send my fastest courier to can take your message,” Volkan assured him. “We will call him now.”
§
Graciella finished scrubbing herself with the cake of soap, set it on a rock, and swam all around the circumference of the pool, exploring the indentations in the rock, the little inlets and outlets.
“Graciella.”
She looked up. Yavi set a little tray containing a pitcher and a cup near the side of the pool. “Here is water to drink.”
She smiled and swam closer to pour herself a cup while he started unbuckling his armor. He laid his leather breastplate aside, baring his muscular chest to her view. She sipped the cool water, watching him over the rim of the cup. He sat on the bench to tug off his boots, then stood and reached for the waistband of his trousers. She turned away to avoid staring at him and made another lap around the pool, pretending to be interested in the leafy vines that tumbled over the rocks at the far end.
Soon he sank into the water, diving beneath it for a moment. She waited for him to emerge. The moment stretched long, and then even longer. Concerned, Graciella rose up to see into the water better. “Yavi?”
He finally surfaced, grinning at her.
“You scared me!” she scolded, sinking back down in the water up to her neck.
“I can stay underwater for two minutes,” he boasted.
“You brute! You had me all worked up!”
He swam around in the pool a bit, his muscular arms outstretched. “I had forgotten how wonderful this water feels when you’re completely exhausted. Where’s the soap?”
She handed it to him, then moved back to her seat on the flat rock at the back to enjoy the view. He rose up to lather his hair, chest, and armpits, the surface of the water just barely covering his groin. She could see the diagonal lines of muscle that arrowed down the front of his pelvis, and just the beginning edge of hair below that.
Soon he reached lower to soap everything, and she averted her gaze, feeling overly warm all of a sudden. Out of the corner of her eye she got just a glimpse of something that might have been the tip of his shaft as he finished lathering himself, set the soap aside, and dove under the water again. He emerged and swam toward her, shoulder and arm muscles glistening with water.
She smiled as he approached. “The water really revives a tired body, doesn’t it?”
“Yes. In more ways than one.” He grinned and sat next to her on the smooth shelf of rock, silvery gaze scanning her face and shoulders. “Your hair is beautiful wet. It looks even darker than usual.”
“Your hair looks the same as usual,” she chuckled. “The water didn’t even flatten its spikes.”
He ran a hand over his close-cropped silver hair. “Yes. Pretty boring.”
“No. I love it.” She reached up to run her fingers over it, feel its texture. “Your hair is softer than it looks.”
“Not rough like the hair on my face,” he murmured, rubbing his angular jaw.
She touched the light dusting of stubble there. “I like how that feels too.”
“Graciella.” He turned his lips to kiss her fingers, then captured her hand in his. “I love how it feels when you touch me.”
She responded by moving closer and sliding her arms around his neck, the warm water pouring off them to drench his shoulders and chest.
He grasped her waist, grinning. “This is dangerous.”
His hands on her bare flesh sent tingles to her groin. She stretched forward to press her lips to his chin. “Dangerous how?”
He kissed her, tasting her lower lip with the tip of his tongue. “I’m about to eat you up.”
She grinned mischievously. “I’d rather you than those disgusting creatures back at the tower. I’m pretty sure they were planning to make me their dinner.”
“Don’t remind me,” he groaned. “When Terijin bit your ear, I went berserk.”
She kissed his jaw. “I knew you wouldn’t let them kill me.”
“You have that much faith in me?”
“Mm-hm.” She laid her head against his bulging shoulder, pressing close enough to him that her nipples lightly brushed against his chest.
He slid his hands upward along her midriff until his hands covered her breasts. She sucked in a breath at the delicious contact, raising her head to look at him.
His silver irises were half-lidded, a smile spreading across his face. He held her gaze while he massaged her breasts, teasing her aching nipples with his thumbs. Then he lifted her to sit sideways across his hard thighs, which placed her breasts above the water, at his eye level. He stared at them, then up at her flushed face as he cupped the left one in his right hand. “You’re stunning, Sheir-zin.”
She realized her lips were parted, and closed them.
He returned his gaze to her breasts, caressing them in his hands, brushing his thumbs over her nipples until they were so tight with need they almost hurt. Then he pulled her forward and took a nipple into his mouth, covering it with his lips and flicking his tongue over it inside his mouth.
When he sucked gently, she moaned.
“Sundarra,” he murmured against her breast. “Sheir-zin auf de sundarra…” He shifted to the other breast and took that nipple into his mouth, his lips and tongue working their magic on it as well.
Graciella clutched at his shoulders, hot with desire. Desire for more of his kisses, all over her body. “Yavi, don’t stop,” she breathed. “I need you.”
He held her waist and lapped at her nipple with his tongue. “Need me?” He licked, sucked gently. “Like this?”
“Yessss.”
He turned his attention back to the left breast, giving that nipple the same treatment.
“Mmh…” she groaned.
“Your body is sundarra, Sheir-zin. So beautiful,” he whispered against her sensitive flesh. “I’ve wanted to do this ever since Kitran s
pilled water on your dress that day in the kitchen.”
“You wanted to make love to me then?” she squeaked as he continued to kiss her breasts, his beard stubble brushing against her tender flesh.
“Wanted is an understatement.” He reached up to tease the right nipple with his fingers and thumb while he sucked the left.
“Zehu bless Kitran. But why in heaven’s name didn’t you say so?”
He chuckled, turning his head to take the right nipple into his mouth again. Graciella thought she had died and gone to heaven, and she wanted—badly—to turn her lower body to straddle him, press her aching pelvis against him. She squirmed in his lap.
He grimaced and reached down between their bodies to adjust himself. “Sweet Graciella, stop wiggling. You’re torturing me.”
She scooted back a little, trying to get her knee up. “Can’t I just…get my leg around you?”
He loosened his grip on her waist, and she backed up enough in the water to straddle his thighs. When she hugged his neck and pulled herself in closer to him, the underside of his hard cock pressed firmly at the juncture of her thighs.
He groaned, squeezing his eyes shut.
Graciella opened her thighs wider and pressed against him until his huge shaft was securely against the spot that was crying out for contact with him. His cock jerked against her sensitive flesh, and he muttered a strained oath in Nandalan. “Graciella,” he choked, glancing down at her breasts. “Stop moving for a second; let me catch my breath.”
“Why?” She kissed his lips, grinding her hips against him. “I need you, Yavi.”
“Yes, I need you too, but I want to pleasure you the right way.”
“What’s the right way?”
“In a bed, for one.” He stood, lifting her up with him, and scooped her up into his arms cradle-style. He climbed out of the pool and set her on her feet, then picked up a towel and quickly dried her body. He unfolded a monk’s robe, draped it over her shoulders, and helped her wrap and tie it properly. Then he laid out a pair of slippers for her to slide her feet into. While she combed out her damp hair, he dried himself quickly with the other towel and shrugged into his own robe and slippers. He looked every inch the warrior-monk in the wide-sleeved robe once it was wrapped close to his torso and tied at his waist, and she was pretty certain the robe’s style didn’t look as good on her as it did on him.
He took her hand. “Come with me.”
They hurried past Yajna and Jiandra’s pool, ducked through the archway outside, and stepped lightly over the stones to an outbuilding at the far side of the garden. Once they were inside the portico, Yavi tapped on the door, opened it, and poked his head in. “Eliv?”
The young monk appeared. “Ahm, Mahaj.”
Yavi said something in Nandalan, and the monk nodded. He led them down a hall with windows that faced the monastery’s main sanctuary above. He stopped at a door at the far end of the hall and opened it for them. Yavi motioned Graciella to go inside first.
It was a bedroom with polished wooden floors and a low wooden platform holding a fluffy-looking mattress draped in off-white linens. A fire was lit in the small stone fireplace facing the foot of the bed, and the only other furniture was a chest along the wall next to the fireplace and a chair and table beside the bed. A thick, irregularly shaped rug made of white filstoc fur lay on the floor at the foot of the bed, and there was a washing bowl and pitcher on a wide windowsill on the far side of the room. Graciella went to look out the window and was treated to a breathtaking view of the early-morning sun filtering through the mist hanging over the cliffs and ridges that rose above the deep canyon below. She turned back to the bed and bent down to run her hand over the linens covering the soft mattress.
Yavi closed and bolted the door. He moved to the window to close the shutters, darkening the room, then came to her side. He grasped her hands in his and drew her with him toward the fire’s warmth, the orange blazes illuminating his clear silver irises. He brought her hands to his lips.
She hugged his neck, and he encircled her waist with his arms, pulling her up against his firm body and bending his head down to claim her mouth. His lips were firm and sexy, sending little tingles all through hers with the contact.
“Graciella, tell me if you want me to stop now, and wait until we are married.”
“Married?” She pulled back to look at him.
He held her gaze. “Would you accept me as your husband? I will do anything in my power to bring you happiness, Graciella. I will give you everything I have, everything I am. Will you marry me?”
She smiled, feeling warm all over. Way too warm for the woolen monk’s robe, in fact. “I would be thrilled to marry you, Yavi.”
He looked relieved, but then his expression grew serious. “I don’t know what my future holds, Sheir-zin, but I know I love you. I want us to be together forever.”
“I want that too. More than anything.”
He stroked her cheek, staring at her mouth. “I want to pleasure you, but tell me if you want me to wait until we’re married.”
“I don’t want to wait. I’m dying to feel you.”
He smiled and bent his head to slant his mouth over hers.
Graciella pressed up against him, kissing him back with all she had, eager to feel more of him, be absorbed into him if it were possible. He fiddled with her tied belt and spread the robe wide, then lifted it away from her body and laid it on the trunk nearby. That done, he led her to the bed, pulled the blankets aside, and scooped her up to lay her gently on the mattress on her back.
She raised herself up on her elbows to watch as he removed his robe as well, the soft glow of firelight revealing the muscular planes of his naked body to her hungry stare. His engorged cock jutted upward toward his taut belly as turned to lay his robe over the back of the chair.
He returned to the side of the bed and glanced down at himself, then up at her. “Is it to your liking?”
“You’re a lot bigger than I expected.”
He chuckled softly, reaching down to encircle his shaft with his hand. “This is why we have to use the virgin oil. I can hurt you without it.”
Graciella’s mouth went dry watching him. “Do you have the virgin oil?”
“No.”
Her heart sank.
He read her expression perfectly. “Don’t worry, Sheir-zin. We can make do without it for now.”
That perked her up, as well as made her eager to find out what he was planning. He joined her on the bed, and she scooted aside to make more room. He pulled her into his arms, pressing her against the full length of his body, then tangled his fingers into the damp hair at the back of her head before claiming her lips in a hungry kiss.
She caressed his chest a moment, then trailed her fingers down over the ripples of his lean belly to grasp his shaft. It was thick and strong, felt like velvet stretched over steel as she pushed her hands down to the base, relishing the feel of him.
“Graciella, slow down,” he choked, gently moving her hands away. “Let me pleasure you first.”
“Oh—I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” he whispered near her ear, nuzzling the sensitive skin behind it. “You can touch me all you want in a moment.”
He pulled her arms up and placed them around his neck, then leaned over her and trailed open-mouthed kisses down along the column of her neck. He flicked his tongue along her heated skin, caressing her waist and hips, his hands leaving a swath of fire everywhere they touched. He reached up to cup her breast, her turgid nipple scraping against his palm as he massaged her gently. He trailed kisses over the swell of her breasts, teasing her nipples with little flicks of his tongue. He took his time lavishing attention on her breasts with his mouth and hands, until she was so aroused she thought she was going to scream if he didn’t do something to alleviate the tension building in her core. Eventually he moved her arms up over her head and tucked her hands under the pillow on each side of her head.
“Keep them there,” he
ordered huskily. He claimed her mouth again in a deep kiss, then moved lower to trail kisses over her belly. When his kisses reached her Venus’ mound, she squirmed and reached down to grasp his shoulder.
He chuckled and tucked her hand back under her pillow. “I know it feels vulnerable, but keep your hands out of the way and let me pleasure you, Sheir-zin. I promise you’ll like this.”
She smiled. Liking it was not the problem; it was simply that she wanted to touch him while he was making love to her, feel him, and it was an involuntary urge to free her hand to do so.
He went slower this time, lavishing kisses over her breasts, down over her midriff, and lingering a little longer over the tender flesh of her abdomen, kissing her open-mouthed and with little strokes of his tongue.
Graciella held her breath, waiting to see just how low those sensual kisses of his were going to venture. Soon, he was in scandalous territory again, parting her thighs and positioning his body directly in the middle of them. He gathered her legs up over his shoulders, turning his head to kiss the sensitive flesh of her inner thighs, first one, then the other. Her body was begging to feel his touch on her throbbing center, and if he didn’t touch her in the right spot soon, she was going to break his hands-under-the-pillow rule and attack him, oil or no oil.
At last she felt his fingers parting her intimate flesh, his warm breath fanning her there. “Sundarra,” he murmured. “Su shey-har sulil sundarra.”
Yavi! she wanted to scream. Touch me now!
Finally he lowered his head and covered her with his mouth, his tongue rubbing against her most sensitive spot in the most scandalous, thrilling sensation she had ever experienced. She caught herself before reaching down to touch his shoulder again and shoved her hand back under the pillow as he’d requested, arching her back under the wave of sweet tingles washing over her from the things he was doing to her with his mouth.
As he continued to kiss her, he used his shoulders to bunch her legs up a bit, reaching up to caress her hips, her waist, his fingers eventually finding her aching nipples to tease them again. Graciella was happily pinned to the mattress by his hands and tongue, with no argument inside her in the least about the situation. It felt like she was drenching his chin in moisture as his soft stubble rubbed the opening of her vagina. He licked and sucked until she was writhing and moaning beneath him, and then suddenly she felt his tongue probing inside her.