Dark Harvest

by Anitra Lynn McLeod

  A change in the pattern of his breathing alerted her that he was very close to climax. Working her mouth and hands in stronger strokes, much harder than she once thought correct thanks to Rown’s training, she felt his body strain forward, rigid, waiting, needing just a bit more to reach the summit.

  Cupping his balls, she stroked the sensitive flesh between them and his ass, teasing her fingertip to the tight pucker. As much as she wanted to slide her finger inside, her nails were far too long, but she could tickle the entrance without harm.

  He dissolved into guttural moans and vulgar words that further titillated her. She desperately wanted to taste him, so she sucked hard while vibrating her tongue against the most sensitive spot where the shaft met the head. All of his satisfaction surged into her mouth, splashing against her throat, slaking her hunger with his powerful contentment.

  Panting, Sterlave glanced down and said, “I guess now we’re even.”

  Licking her lips, she said, “Oh, no, we’re not.”

  8

  Kasmiri rose like the future empress she was. Smoothing down her dress, she returned to the mirror while he leaned exhausted and spent against the doorway. He was grateful it opened in and not out, or he would have crashed through it during his climax. That would have been a most unforgettable sight for their guests. If any of them stood near, they would have heard his hips banging into the door as Kasmiri worked her magic.

  What a talented mouth his bondmate possessed. Her technique rivaled Rown’s, but perhaps it was just he found the visual of her far more appealing. Her eyes vacillated between pleasure and fury, and all the emotions in-between. Changing as quickly as the sky during spring, he never knew one moment to the next what her reaction would be. That alone excited him beyond rational thought. At any moment, she could have clamped her teeth together, emasculating him with one bite, but he knew she wouldn’t, because despite her protests, she found great satisfaction with him.

  At first, he worried her sudden attack of lust was directly attributable to Chur. Sterlave had never heard of illias, but he would ensure an adequate supply if it had this effect on Kasmiri. Under the influence, she was wild, crazed, and unable to get enough of his fingers and cock. In her need, she would have promised him anything. If only he could inspire that yearning in her without the aid of an aphrodisiac.

  As he pulled on his clothing, Kasmiri struggled with her complicated hairdo. “Here, let me.”

  She arched a brow at his reflection. “You wish to be my humble servant?”

  “For the moment, yes.” He moved behind her and smoothed the wayward strands into place. Her normally soft hair was stiff from some type of styling glue. By moistening his fingertips, he managed to recreate her servant’s work. “There.”

  He finished dressing as she turned her head this way and that. While pulling on his boots, he found her torn panties and slipped them inside. A nice souvenir he could add to his meager possessions.

  Satisfied with her appearance, she caught his reflection, and said, “Thank you.”

  “You are very welcome, my beautiful mate.”

  Her brows rose and fell as she smiled. “I’m not sure how beautiful I am at the moment. My makeup is smeared, my dress is wrinkled, and my panties are—” she glanced around—“gone.” She sighed. “I look—”

  “Like a thoroughly satisfied woman.” He stood and wrapped his arms around her, placing a kiss to her earlobe. “Look at the sparkle in your eyes, the color on your cheeks, the way you can’t help but smile.”

  For a moment, she considered her reflection as if seeing herself for the first time. Then her gaze moved to him.

  “Speaking of color, you still have some on your mouth.” Kasmiri wetted a small towel, then carefully wiped her crimson paint from his face.

  Capturing her hand, he tossed the towel aside and kissed her palm. “Any regrets?”

  “None at all.” A genuine smile tilted her lips and lifted the edges of her eyes. “Let us go and receive our guests.”

  Kasmiri floated to the door and flung it open with her head held high and her shoulders square. A flush of admiration for her spirit touched that hopeful place in his heart. Time and time again she amazed him. She didn’t seem to realize just how strong she really was.

  Following behind, he felt almost every gaze turn their way, but the glances they received were not condemning or even amused, they simply acknowledged their return.

  Sterlave’s gaze roamed through the crowd but settled on Chur, who pressed his lips together in a barely suppressed smile, then nodded as if congratulating him. However, Chur was all the way across the room. How had he heard them? Or perhaps Chur surmised the obvious. Sterlave nodded back and then followed Kasmiri to their table on the raised dais.

  Sterlave hadn’t had much time to talk with Chur before Kasmiri dragged him away, but the change in him was obvious. Even from this distance, Chur glowed with golden light. His facial scar had disappeared, and his eyes, always intense, were now almost frighteningly so. When Sterlave asked after this amazing transformation, Chur said that his relationship with Enovese was responsible.

  “Why do you insist on staring at that woman?” Kasmiri’s voice was low but sharper than the sword on his hip.

  Rather than confess he had been staring at Chur, he simply said, “I am curious. You spoke with her, what is she like?”

  Kasmiri rolled her eyes dismissively. “She’s deranged.”

  Below her snide comment, Sterlave sensed fear, but he decided not to push the issue. He made a point not to look in their direction again. Besides, he’d have plenty of time to consider Chur later.

  Once Clathia took her place beside her daughter, the babble settled down and all lifted their glasses for a toast. Sterlave lost count after the fifth course and became sluggish from too much food, too much drink, and the wonderful satisfaction from Kasmiri’s delightful mouth.

  Throughout the meal, several guests offered personal toasts of congratulations. They often referred to people and events Sterlave had no knowledge of, but he enjoyed the lighthearted nature of the tales. Kasmiri sparkled. Where he’d only seen her putting on airs with people, tonight, her smile was genuine.

  Even her mother noticed the change because she made a comment to Kasmiri that Sterlave overheard. For the first time since their bonding ceremony, he began to feel that they could become a strong couple. If Kasmiri gave a little, and so did he, they would find the common ground between them.

  Dancing followed the meal, but Sterlave knew only the dances of his village. Kasmiri acquiesced even though it was clear she wanted to dance. Her eyes followed Chur, who moved with a masculine grace that surpassed any man in the room. Sterlave wanted to roll his eyes like Kasmiri—wasn’t there anything the man was bad at? Why couldn’t he be a bumbling oaf with no grace at all? Sterlave didn’t want to feel such resentment toward his friend, especially when his friend did not encourage Kasmiri’s infatuation, but it was difficult not to. Sterlave thought that since Kasmiri had met Chur’s bondmate, her obsession would fade away.

  “Would you teach me a dance?” Sterlave asked, leaning near.

  Delight sparkled in her gaze. “We’ll do a slow one with only three steps.” Under the table, she showed him the steps, then they moved to the center of the room.

  At first, he felt stiff and awkward since this style of dance was more rigid than his tribe’s style, but Kasmiri exercised great patience. Even though he messed up and almost stepped on her feet twice, she simply laughed it off. He was self-conscious until he realized everyone else was too engrossed in his or her own partner to worry after him.

  Kasmiri floated in his arms. So light on her feet, she drifted over the floor with elegance despite the confining dress. For the first time in ages, Sterlave enjoyed himself. While they danced, they exchanged lusty comments about their tryst in the basin room and what they planned to do to each other later. She had a decidedly perverse mind where sex was concerned. Her suggestions caused his echalle to press
wickedly against his pants and he wondered just who was teaching whom.

  Several men approached to dance with Kasmiri and he agreed since they could actually do the more complicated steps. He moved to the edge of the room to watch.

  “She is quite graceful.”

  Sterlave turned and discovered Enovese by his side. “Far more graceful than I.”

  Enovese laughed. “I didn’t know how to dance until Chur taught me. Look, together they move as if gliding on ice.”

  Chilled, he turned to find Chur and Kasmiri twirling about the floor as if made for each other. His erection deflated. How could he compete with him? When he glanced at Enovese, there was no jealousy in her eyes. She seemed pleased to observe her mate dancing so well with another woman.

  “Kasmiri was once interested in Chur.” It was a cruel thing to say and he had no idea why he did.

  “This I know.” Unshakable confidence emanated from her.

  “Aren’t you the least bit concerned?” He found her entire demeanor odd. She didn’t fiddle or seek out a drink to hold or to give her hands something to do. Enovese stood statue-still but relaxed, and observed, as if she’d never been in a room full of people before. He found himself wondering who she was and where she had come from.

  “I have nothing to fear from Kasmiri. You have nothing to fear from Chur.” Her lyrical voice brooked no argument.

  “Would you like to dance with me?”

  Enovese gave him a sidelong glance. “I said I have nothing to fear from Kasmiri, not you.”

  “I like to play with fire.”

  When he offered out his hand, she accepted. Enovese kept to simple steps in deference to him, and he found himself utterly enchanted. A blissful energy flowed from her in such strong waves he felt touched by her pure essence. Her hair caught and reflected the light, so long and silky he couldn’t help but touch it every chance he got. She didn’t seem to mind and even laughed playfully when several strands tangled in the hilt of his sword. They stopped at the edge of the dancing area to remove them.

  “How dare you touch my consort!” Kasmiri’s screech rang across the room, causing all of the dancers to stop and stare.

  When Sterlave looked over, he realized that from her vantage point it appeared Enovese was touching his bulge, not his blade. A flush of embarrassment slowly turned his entire face red. The attention transported him back to his village, and the time when Laarad caught him stealing bread. Laarad had pinched his ear and paraded him through the streets, bellowing to all that they had a thief in their midst. Desperate hunger had driven Sterlave to swipe the food, but he’d gone hungry afterward rather than suffer such shame again. Yet here he was. Kasmiri wasn’t holding his ear, but she made sure everyone noticed him for his bad behavior.

  Enovese chuckled. “You said you liked to play with fire.” She deftly removed the remaining strands. By the time Kasmiri got to them, Enovese had stepped back with cool aplomb.

  “I don’t care who or what you are—don’t you ever touch my consort again or I’ll have you put to death!” Kasmiri’s eyes were silted and her mouth a slash in her furious face. Her body shook with rage while her hands clenched.

  Enovese tilted her nose and shrugged, as if daring Kasmiri to follow through with the threat.

  Kasmiri turned her vitriol onto him. “And you! How dare you allow another woman access to what is rightfully mine, and during our bonding celebration no less? I should have you placed under the stone for your insolence.”

  Hot shame, similar to what he felt back in his village under the vicious tongues of the tribe, caused Sterlave to grit his teeth. He wanted to yell back in her face that she did not own him, but he couldn’t open his mouth. He was too mortified to move or speak. In a flash, he wasn’t a man but a very young boy. Every eye fell on him. He felt them weighing him, measuring him, laughing at him, and ultimately rejecting him. He wanted the floor to open and swallow him whole.

  “I will not be ridiculed because of your actions. I knew you were too low class to become my bondmate and now I have the proof of it!” Her powerful voice flung the words at him like stones against naked flesh.

  Guests drifted away, flashing him sympathetic looks that only compounded his humiliation. He couldn’t even brave a glance at Chur or Enovese. He kept his attention on the far wall, waiting for the siege to end. Kasmiri’s rant went on and on until she finally ran out of insults. She had done the exact same thing to Rown. No matter what happened between them, she would always look upon him as a servant. Whatever hope he had for them she just crushed under the weight of her nasty tongue.

  After an interminable time, he found his voice, and asked, “Are you finished?” His stomach roiled with barely suppressed rage. Never in his life had he more wanted to run and hide himself away. Tonight their guests had seen the high and low of their relationship, and if Kasmiri worried about wagging tongues, she had only herself to blame. “Enovese’s hair became entangled in the hilt of my sword. She was only trying to untangle the strands.”

  Kasmiri darted her gaze from his blade to Enovese’s hair. Snidely, she said, “Perhaps she should cut her hair. What are you, a paratanist who is forbidden to cut—” Kasmiri’s eyes went wide and her mouth dropped into a perfect little O. “That’s what you are! That’s why your hair is ridiculously long and you have no manners—you are a paratanist!” Revulsion caused Kasmiri to back away. “You chose a servant over me?!” Now her fury fell on Chur, who took the same implacable stance as his mate.

  “I never would have selected you, Kasmiri,” Chur said, his voice low but firm. “You are not for me.”

  She took his words as if a blow, turning her face away with a wince. “I do not wish to see either of you again. I want you gone from the palace by daybreak.”

  “You should speak with your mother about that.” Chur nodded to Clathia at the high table, then took Enovese’s hand. Arm in arm, they left the room with an easy matched stride.

  Again, Sterlave envied Chur his effortless manner with his mate. Why couldn’t he and Kasmiri capture that accepting comportment? He despaired that they would always be at crossroads. At this moment, he didn’t want to be in the same room as Kasmiri, let alone grasp her arm and share the same personal space. Sterlave also marveled at the revelation. He’d only had a paratanist for a brief time, but the rules regarding them were clear: They spoke only when spoken to and were not to be touched by anyone, not even the Harvester. How had Chur braved the restrictions and lifted her hood to discover what lay below? Sterlave suddenly wondered what his paratanist had looked like. Not that it mattered. He was so enamored with Kasmiri he doubted any woman would have changed his mind. Even her childish behavior tonight had not lessened his attraction to her. In spite of her mature carriage, Kasmiri was still very young, impetuous, and had a thousand pressures from her duty hanging over her head. He wasn’t ready to forgive her, but he thought he understood her behavior.

  When Sterlave examined the room, he discovered only he, Kasmiri, and her mother remained amid the confetti, empty glasses, and general party clutter.

  Clathia sat at the high table; her countenance weary and her shoulders slumped. She had aged ten seasons in one evening. Beautiful in a severe way, Clathia had clearly bestowed her exotic exquisiteness upon Kasmiri, but now, Clathia seemed less than an exalted empress and more like an exhausted mother.

  “You have not the right to dismiss them, my daughter. Come, there are things we must discuss. You may return to your rooms, Sterlave.”

  One final humiliation—dismissed by her mother like an annoying servant.

  “Kasmiri will join you when we are finished.”

  Kasmiri trembled, not with fury but fear. Something in her mother’s voice sucked all the fight from her. Under her breath, he heard Kasmiri mumble something about her duty, but she attended her mother with the deference of a well-trained child while he dutifully returned to their rooms.

  Sterlave fell asleep waiting for Kasmiri. When she entered, she made no effo
rt to be quiet. She stomped about, flinging off her shoes, her dress, and ripping the decorations from her hair. One hit the mirror, shattering it into a thousand shards.

  A sleepy Rown entered, his black hair twisted from sleep, but she dismissed him with a wave of her hand. Before he left, Rown shot a glance toward the bed, saw the lump Sterlave made, then exited with a perplexed frown. Sterlave felt for him; he knew exactly what it was like to have Kasmiri dismiss him with such callous disregard.

  Obviously the talk with her mother had not gone well. Sterlave stayed in bed and watched her destroy several items in a childish display of temper.

  Burying her face in her hands, Kasmiri finally stopped her rampage. Her shoulders trembled as she fought back tears.

  A part of him wanted to slip from the bed to embrace her, but his anger still simmered unchecked. He wanted an apology. Vowing to ignore her until she asked for his forgiveness, he snuggled into bed.

  Water splashed in the bathing unit for a long time and he thought she used it to mask her sobs. No matter how many times he felt the urge to go and comfort her, he resisted. Kasmiri had to learn her actions had repercussions. If he allowed her to treat him like a servant, she would continue to do so.

  Eventually she slipped into bed beside him. She tossed and turned, sighing loudly, but he did not respond. Keeping carefully to his side of the bed, he feigned sleep, but her fresh, clean scent aroused him. Unfortunately, his cock didn’t know how to teach someone a lesson with denial. However, he was in control, not his lust. If the training rooms taught him anything, self-denial would top the list.

  A tentative touch to his shoulder twitched his penis.

  Softly, Kasmiri whispered, “I want you.”

  “I want you too,” he admitted.

  She snuggled up, pressing her generous breasts against his back. Hardened nipples teased him and suddenly he wanted to relent, but he forcefully nudged her off.