Nuworld: Claiming Tara

by Fitzgerald, Laurie

  She straddled him and forced the penetration herself as he grabbed her breasts. Darius slid so deeply inside her that she fought to control the moment.

  He pulled back as she rocked forward. Then he lunged, almost choking her with the depth he reached.

  Tara collapsed on him. But before she recovered and regained her strength, his powerful arms wrapped around her body and he lunged again. Fighting to gain control was the hardest thing she’d ever done. She dug her fingers into his chest and pushed—hard—forcing herself up. As his grip around her intensified, she took advantage of the preoccupation and thrust her hips down, consuming every inch of him inside of her, tightening around him, suffocating all life out of him. She was, most definitely, the victor.

  A muffled grunt, deep within him, rose to a howl as she forced his orgasm. Then, not willing to let him have his pleasure without her, she thrust again and leaped to meet the intensity with her own climax. She held him inside her, while he stretched and filled her. Closing her eyes, she rode the waves of satisfaction that rushed through her. Where she had tried to show the upper hand, she had instead received the privilege of being fucked good and hard, allowing her one orgasm and leaving her wanting more.

  This was not lovemaking. There had been no foreplay. Pure and simply, it was a struggle of powers. A ruthless, dominating nation taking on another, equally powerful and equally dangerous. Through the act of sex, they’d tried to conquer each other—and failed. If they’d attempted to keep the act purely physical, playing the part of the skilled warrior, and not allowing emotions to interfere—again, they both failed. The pleasure had been too great and the power struggle too intoxicating. Tara saw all of this as true and knew she’d have to give further thought to it later.

  Darius eased his grip on Tara. He sat up, still inside her, and stared deeply into that place he’d just experienced. There couldn’t possibly be another woman like her on Nuworld. Sex had always been an act of pleasure, sometimes necessary, sometimes simply to amuse himself. It had never occurred to him how the pleasure might intensify with a willing, enthused partner. Darius enjoyed sex as a predatory act. Sometimes the look of fear, or submissive anticipation, excited him enough to pursue a lady who caught his eye. Tara had offered him neither, yet she had brought him to a hardened boil like none had before.

  What was it about this woman?

  Intelligence mixed with her beauty in a way Darius hadn’t thought possible. She wore the two qualities in a way that drew him. He wanted to know her. It dawned on him that he had never really cared to know any woman before Tara. Women served a purpose, but one of them wasn’t companionship. With Tara, he wanted to know why she thought the way she did, what ticked behind those blue eyes.

  But there was something else. Darius wanted to make Tara his. This woman was no Gothman, but she was on his land, acting the part of a Gothman. There was mystery behind her, but that didn’t bother him. All knowledge of her would be his in time. What fascinated him was his desire to possess her, and all that she was.

  “How do you feel about the fact that with one word I could have you rule this land at my side?” Darius whispered into her ear.

  “You know nothing about me. I may make a lousy ruler.” She returned his gaze, snagging her fingers in his hair, then pulling them free. “I would think something like that should be a mutual decision, my lord.” She pushed herself off of him and looked around until she spotted her dress.

  “I’m not surprised you’d answer like that, my lady.” He wasn’t daunted by her boldness. “You’re not like any lass I’ve met and I’ve known a few. They’re always polite and submissive, of course, and they say only what they think I want to hear. You think for yourself. I like that. Why are you like that, Tara?”

  “I guess I don’t see why women have to be less than men.” She looked at him, as if checking for his immediate reaction.

  There was no need to respond. She was in his world and he didn’t doubt she knew his laws. Instead, he got up and picked up the pants Tara had managed to pull off him. Showing this woman how to submit would be more pleasure than he originally thought.

  Tara noticed Darius could go another round. She liked that quality in a man. She had to admit, more than his sexuality impressed her. Darius acted interested in her. Tara didn’t fool herself into believing his curiosity was drawn by affection.

  She knew better.

  Darius questioned her nature because he needed confirmation she was a Runner. His tactics were far more impressive than capture and torture. Tara also considered that he might think she wasn’t an enemy.

  Gothman and Runners might have a bad history, but that history didn’t affect her. In fact, Tara wasn’t sure if there was reason for the two nations of people to despise each other. Ignorance had made them enemies. Tara wondered if knowledge might make them allies.

  Tara got dressed and walked to his motorcycle, guessing he wasn’t pleased by her last comment and would probably take her back to the house. The man wanted her compliance.

  She was sure she knew his thoughts. Any Gothman woman would do well to be claimed by the Lord of Gothman.

  But Tara wasn’t Gothman, and he there was nothing he had to offer that she wasn’t able to obtain on her own. She guessed that since she didn’t dance in appreciation to his suggestion, she had offended him, and possibly bruised that mighty ego.

  “The Gothman culture has been the way it is for hundreds of winters,” Darius finally said, and buttoned his pants.

  She turned and walked back to him. “Cultures can change, don’t you think?”

  Darius wasn’t looking at her face.

  She wondered if he even heard her question. He seemed more intent on studying her breasts. “And who better to start a change but the leader of the land? I’ve never known a man like you.” Tara ran her hands up his chest, feeling the pounding of his heart under muscles that tightened against her touch. “Gothman is powerful, and that power comes from you. You alone can alter the state of women, and no one would stop you.”

  She watched her hands caress his chest, feeling the ironclad strength as well as his heat. The scent of their sex lingered. Her insides swelled, pulsed and ached for him to be inside her again.

  Darius lifted her chin with one finger. Those gray eyes captivated her. Did she see amusement?

  “Now, why would I change what already works so well?” Darius tapped her chin with his finger, then started toward his bike, leaving her standing there.

  She forced her thoughts to clear, knowing a point should be made here.

  “I’ve heard you’re a great leader, Lord Darius. I’m sure you can do anything if you set your mind to it.”

  He got onto his bike and his expression turned hard. She smiled at him and easily slid on behind him.

  Snuggling behind him increased her desire to have him again. But her brain was in pure turmoil. She feared that she’d allowed him to learn more about her than she’d wanted to share.

  He’d openly admitted that she was different from any woman he had been with. Tara had to acknowledge that his ability to keep her from knowing whether or not he knew she was a Runner was excellent strategy. It kept her alert and guessing. Instead of responding, he started the bike and turned it around with those thick, muscular legs of his.

  Darius took his time returning to the house. His emotions were absolutely contorted beyond recognition. Tara was no Gothman. He had his Runner. Of that much, he was certain. The woman stirred something inside him, though. She’d also appealed to him physically. He would have her again, and soon. It was more than physical lust though. She’d just challenged him and she’d done it on purpose.

  No one questioned the laws and traditions of Gothman. Nor would anyone dream of questioning him. Yet this female didn’t hesitate to do so. Darius didn’t need to explain to her why women had the role that they did. Conversation like that would have been a waste of his time. And really, it wasn’t the issue itself, but the fact that this female had enough spun
k to speak to him in such a way. No woman, no person, had done that before.

  He thought about the past few winters and how he’d taken whatever he’d wanted, and how no one, absolutely no one, had stood in his way. If they’d tried, they’d been killed. He felt no remorse. He’d not been heir to Gothman, but had known since he was a child that he was the one meant to rule. His older brother hadn’t had the backbone. His papa had known that, but was too preoccupied by tradition to allow the middle son to rule. So, Darius had taken matters into his own hands.

  Once becoming Lord of Gothman he had continued taking what he wanted. And that had included practically every available lass in Bryton. Not that any had objected. His mama had brought every young Gothman woman she found into the household. He’d slept with each one of them; at least he was pretty sure he had. But then, he’d lost interest. Each one had taken the edge off, fucking him when he went to them. But beyond that, they bored him. The Lord of Gothman needed a claim. He would push on thirty winters before long, and he knew the town anticipated he claim one of their available women. More than once he’d told himself to just claim one of them and be done with it. But the thought of having any of those women under his roof for the rest of his winters rubbed him to the point of irritation.

  His younger brother, Mikel, frowned upon his promiscuity. Mikel was too much like their papa, Lord Jovis. Darius knew what his papa would have said if he’d learned Darius just had sex with a Runner—something he definitely planned on doing again.

  In Darius’ tenth or twelfth winter, his papa had engaged in a heated argument about Runners with a Runner. Darius hadn’t witnessed the event, but he remembered his papa’s tirade over it afterward. What had stuck in Darius’ mind over the winters was that his papa relented to the Runner’s wishes. He remembered thinking his papa was weak not to stand up to the Runner. It had also put a kind of awe in his young mind as to the type of man who would argue with the Lord of Gothman and survive to have his way.

  It dawned on him suddenly that the argument had involved Reena. And it was Reena who’d brought Tara to them.

  Darius knew Reena associated with Runners from time to time. She allowed a lone Runner to spend the night in her secluded cabin before continuing on his way. Darius hadn’t seen reason for concern. The woman lived outside the town. She didn’t gossip about her occasional visitor, and his guards never reported that the Runner caused problems.

  But with Tara’s coming, something had changed. She was the first Runner to enter Gothman and venture further into the community. Maybe he’d get his answers faster if he interrogated Reena. Although that definitely wouldn’t be as much fun as seducing them out of Tara.

  As he pulled into the backyard and parked behind his shed, he already plotted how he would know why Tara was here, and what she wanted. He already knew what he wanted. Tara hopped off the bike and started walking toward the house without saying anything.

  Darius grabbed her arm and spun her around. “Your second lesson in submitting is to leave my side when I say it’s okay to do so.”

  To his surprise, Tara leaned into him, going up on her tiptoes. “Does the Lord of Gothman wish to fuck me right here for all his guards to see?” she whispered.

  Before he answered, because honestly, he’d never seen such boldness out of a woman, Tara ignored his instruction and once again started toward the house. Darius grabbed her and almost knocked her off her feet with the aggressiveness he used to spin her back around.

  “I’ll say it again, my lady. You’re different from any woman I’ve known. I’m curious why you’d like to see Gothman culture change. Changing to be like whom, I’m wondering.” He looked at her hard, but Tara remained silent, staring back with an expression so calm he knew it had taken winters of training to master it.

  Darius studied her tanned complexion, her brown hair that fell past her shoulders and was soft as silk. Her lips were full, and he ached with a sudden urgency to kiss them again. He focused on her eyes, a blue that darkened with her emotions, as he was discovering. Right now they were a rich, pure, rare dark sapphire, challenging him.

  He moved his attention to her breasts, perky and full, with nipples hardened to a tempting peak under her dress. He released her arm and ran a finger over one nipple. She didn’t flinch, which pleased him for a reason he couldn’t identify. Darius pulled her close. “We are going to do this again, soon. Now you may go.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  DARIUS DIDN’T spend much time at home. Tara ached

  to see him more, to touch him, and to experience his touch again. But the leader of Gothman was awake and gone often before sunrise, and seldom returned before late in the evening. Many nights after she had retired for the day, Tara sat in her bedroom with the door open and listened for when he would climb the stairs.

  Tara itched to know what politics distracted him. No Gothman woman would think of asking the lord about his business. She wanted to join him in his office, ask about his day, and exchange stories. She wanted to share experiences with him and learn more about how the man ticked. But to do any of that would spread suspicion. She’d already done enough of that. As much as she ached for Darius to know her better, that would be a fool’s mission. So she sat alone in the dark of her bedroom every night, wondering what Darius thought of her, and if he would ever act on that knowledge.

  Tonight she had fallen asleep before he’d come home. It had surprised her how much a permanent home needed cleaning, and how exhausting that work was. Her eyes fluttered open at the sound of his boots on the stairs. Slow and steady, her heart raced with anticipation. With every breath, her breasts swelled, pressing against the covers while she listened to him move down the hallway.

  A door opened, but didn’ t close. He had gone to his room.

  She ran her hands down her body, imagining Lord Darius touching her. A fever burned inside her, an ache for him grew with every moment that she lay in the dark, straining to hear what he might be doing. Her frustration peaked when his door finally closed, the house growing quiet once again. Embers smoldered while a fever she couldn’t control made her insides throb for a man she knew she could never truly have.

  “What will we do today?” Torgo asked, as he sat on the stool in the kitchen watching Tara clean breakfast dishes. “Well now, I will have to check with your mama and see if there are any extra chores she has in mind for me. I have to earn my keep, you know.” She smiled at his forlorn look.

  “Mam a will have you busy forever,” he complained, looking disappointed.

  “I don’t know about forever, child.” Hilda stood in the doorway. “I’ll have you clean the first floor today. It won’t take long, as long as Darius doesn’t take you away again.”

  Tara blushed.

  Hilda grinned and chuckled as she walked out of the room.

  “Has my brother claimed you yet?” Torgo asked.

  Tara was surprised at the question, but the look of innocence on his face reminded her that this was his culture. “No, child, he hasn’t.”

  “When I get older, I’m going to claim a girl as pretty as you.”

  Torgo followed Tara around the house, talking to her as she dusted the rooms and cleaned the floors until she’d finished the first floor. The late morning air was brisk and a cool south breeze floated down from the hills as the young boy led Tara to the grassy meadow beyond the backyard.

  “To be a strong warrior like your brother, you must start your lessons at a young age.” She squatted to collect several small rocks.

  “And what do you know about being a strong warrior?” Torgo laughed.

  Tara squinted at the boy who stood next to her, silhouetted by the sun. “I grew up with brothers who all worked to be great warriors.”

  Torgo accepted the explanation with a quick nod. Every Gothman boy dreamed of being a great warrior.

  “Darius said he would teach me to ride a motorcycle when I was a little older.” The boy put his hands on his hips and stood a little taller.

&nb
sp; “Ah, that’s good. I think we should see how your aim is today. Do you see that tree over that way? Hit it with these rocks.” She handed him the rocks.

  Torgo hesitated. “It’s too far away.”

  Tara took the rocks from him and threw them one at a time, hitting the trunk of the tree each time. She bent down and gathered more rocks. “Now, you try.”

  Amazed, the boy took the rocks and threw them, missing the tree each time.

  Tara agreed they could move closer.

  After many attempts, Torgo finally started to hit the tree. His excitement showed through his young eyes and he hugged Tara joyfully. “They won’t pick on me at school anymore.” He attempted a jig as he jumped around in a circle.

  “This is just the beginning of many things a great warrior will need to know.” They walked slowly back to the house together.

  “Throwing rocks?” Torgo looked confused. “Is this something you did with your brothers?”

  “Did you just learn to throw rocks today?” Tara eyed the young boy whose face showed his eagerness to learn.

  “Yes. All I did was throw rocks.” Torgo sounded confused.

  “Ah, I think you learned several things today. Give it some thought. Meanwhile, practice on different targets. Maybe tomorrow we can get outside again. It sure is a nice break from my chores.” To Tara’s surprise, the young boy jumped at her and gave her a tight hug.

  “Why are we sitting out here?” Reena faced her lifelong friend across the table and pulled her shawl tighter around her shoulders as she shivered against the morning chill.

  Hilda waved her hand to the servant girl to refill both of their coffees. “I thought it would be more private.”

  “Private?” Reena picked up her cup of coffee and held it in both hands. “Old woman, what are you up to? And why do you keep glancing at the house?”

  “Tara is in there.”

  “Are you afraid she’ll blow the place up?”

  “No.” Hilda laughed, leaned back in her chair, and dismissed the servant with a wave of her hand. “You are my good friend, Reena.”