Unexpected Bride (Warlord Series Book 6)

by Michelle Howard

  This too was something they’d never done. Usually, once finished, Saran removed himself to the far side of the bed. Holding each other was not the Kabanian way.

  “I am not sure what to say.”

  Saran glanced down. He could only see the top of Melane’s tangled, black hair. He rested his chin on the messy layers, tightening his embrace. “Perhaps we should say nothing.”

  ***

  Melane tried to catch her breath from the sudden exertions of bed play with Saran. Something felt different. Her lower body twitched and a sense of more invaded. “This was very different.”

  He nudged her face up. The corner of his lips quirked in a smile followed by the hot press of his mouth to hers. He’d done that before too. Melane moaned as he increased the contact. She curved a hand about his shoulders and buried the other in the rich thickness of his hair. The feelings he stirred with this odd touching of lips were hard to describe. She wanted to laugh, cry, and attack all at once. Instead, she eased away and stared into his glittering eyes.

  “What has gotten into you?”

  His rich chuckle spilled out, whiffs of his warm breath hitting her cheeks. Melane found herself smiling in return.

  “I am pleased you accepted my invitation. I know I spoke ill toward you in the past. I hope I made amends.”

  Now Melane wanted to giggle. This new side of Saran inspired her greatly. “You made amends.”

  He reached to cup her cheek with his right hand and froze. Melane leaned forward and mimicked the lip gesture by putting her mouth to the damaged hand.

  “What has you doing this now?” she asked after he dropped his hand.

  “Kissing?”

  “Yes.” Melane knew of it. The Raasa Su-Su kissed the Overlord frequently. “You like kissing?”

  “Didn’t you?” he countered.

  Fear encompassed his question and he avoided meeting her eyes. Melane snuggled into his embrace to reassure. “I would have more of it if you will teach me the way.”

  He stiffened. “You jest?”

  “I am most interested.” Hot and unable to remain still, Melane shifted in restless confusion.

  She wanted something but had no idea what. Her nipples tingled where they made contact with Saran’s chest. Heat simmered at a boil in her belly and her loins soaked with Saran’s release clenched in demand.

  Saran noticed her state immediately and worry creased his brow. “What is amiss, Melane?

  Since she had no way of explaining, she buried her face against his shoulder and answered, “I am unsure.”

  Saran broke away from the embrace and rolled her to her back. Mortification set her face aflame when he probed the entrance to her toque with his fingers and she couldn’t hold in the desperate whimper. It wasn’t pain but her body craved more. She couldn’t recollect being in this state before. Any yearnings always pertained to wishing to be a bride. Yet now she yearned...for something far less emotional and more physical.

  Saran continued to move the fingers of his left hand between her thighs, never taking his gaze from hers as her body rocked and thrust in a most embarrassing fashion.

  “I apologize, Saran. I can’t control this feeling.” She offered an explanation for her bold body gestures.

  His eyes widened. “You are in need. Aroused with lust.”

  “No, no! You satisfied me.” His hand paused its delicious motion and Melane clawed at his arm. “Do not stop. I mean...I’m sorry, I do not know what has come over me.”

  A gentle smile spread across his face. “Your body is demanding its release and I find I am most eager to meet this plea.”

  Saran rolled on top of her and palmed her heavy breasts. His mouth went back to its earlier torment and sucked at her nipples. He kissed her belly, her throat, anywhere he could reach and amidst the stimuli he stroked her all over, occasionally slipping his fingers between her folds and rubbing. Melane moaned, her head tossing on the pillow.

  Breath panting and chest tight, she held his shoulders. “Make it stop. Too much pleasure.”

  “Brace yourself,” he murmured right before kissing her on the mouth and driving his toqa back into her entrance.

  Lights burst beneath her closed lids blinding her and Melane screamed. Wave after wave of sensations flowed over her. Her body jerked and twitched and through it all, Saran pumped fiercely, his expression tight and hungry.

  Hungry. Yes, that explained it. Their bodies hungered for one another and only this new form of bed play would satisfy. Afterwards her body slumped to the sheets. Saran finished with a lusty groan, falling to the side of her. Melane gladly clasped him to her. She welcomed the closeness, the comfort she drew from having their bodies aligned together.

  “We will do this again,” he declared with a boastful grin.

  Chapter 19

  Melane peered around the edge of Saran’s bedroom door and murmured to the servant on the other side low enough she wouldn’t wake Saran. Wasted effort as the bed creaked behind her. She turned as he rolled to his side, staring with a lascivious gleam in his eyes. He probably wondered what she was about and briefly doubt wavered at her actions.

  After closing the door, Melane fully turned in his direction accidently flashing him the upper curve of one breast. His groan had her gaze dropping to see what happened. Flushing, she yanked on the sheet. It was a thrilling rush of power to have him at the mercy of her desires. The glazed look in his eyes warned he contemplated bed play. Melane smiled. She might agree though tired muscles along her arms and back complained.

  Heat warmed her cheeks when their gazes met and the linen rose in a small tent at the area between his legs. Maybe more sex sharing would not hurt. As soon as Melane made the decision, Saran rewarded her with a wolfish grin. A resounding knock interrupted Saran dragging her back onto the bed.

  “Be gone!” He yelled, annoyance flashing across his features.

  “No.” Melane jumped up, grasping the trailing linen about her once more and ran to open the door.

  Servants filed in carrying water and one of the large tubs reserved for special occasions. Saran sat upright, blankets tumbling about his waist. Neera winked at Melane on her way out. Another, whose name slipped her mind, finished emptying the last container of hot water into the steaming tub.

  Once the door closed behind them and the room cleared, nerves left Melane rubbing her hands on the edges of sheet as she rejoined Saran by the bed. The scent of their combined desire wafted from the linen. For some reason neither of them had been able to resist the newfound results from their shared enjoyment of bed play.

  “What is this?” A smile lingered on his lips.

  “I called for a bath. I thought...mayhap we could share.” Melane cringed. It sounded forward and not what she planned when the idea came to her.

  Saran rose immediately, his naked body fully displayed as he crossed the room and climbed into the tub, splashing water along the sides to the floor. “Do not tarry.”

  After a slight hesitation, Melane dropped the sheet and faced the tub. True happiness must feel like this.

  “Wait.” Her steps came to a halt. Her handsome Warlord leaned against the back, arms spread wide about the rim. “I want to see you. Turn slowly.”

  Despite her embarrassed state, Melane performed a slow rotation. When their eyes met again, Saran’s lids lowered and water sloshed as he dipped a hand out of sight followed by a low groan. It took her a bit to figure what he was about but when his head fell back on a moan, she gasped. His eyes opened and the heat nearly burned her from across the room.

  He bit his bottom lip, his sultry stare bringing her to a rapid state of arousal once more. “No other holds your beauty. Ever am I pleased to be the only Warlord to share your treasure.”

  Melane didn’t know what to say to that. Saran waved her forward and instinct propelled her in his direction. Taking up much of the space in the tub, he left little room for Melane but she gamely lifted her leg only to startle when he lurched up, gripped her waist and p
ulled her into a sprawl against him.

  “Saran, what are you about!”

  He laughed and settled her on his lap. Realizing he had no intentions of letting her go, Melane lost her stiff posture and eased against him. The heated water soothed parts she hadn’t realized stung from the vigorous workout. Her aching core and thigh muscles loosened in relief as she sank into the warm depths.

  Saran sat with his legs spread and Melane nestled between them. Hard as the stones outside, his toqa was a warm weight at her lower back. Not wanting to ruin this moment, Melane kept her voice low. “I would know what brought about this change, Warlord.”

  “Saran,” he chastised, nipping the side of her neck and bringing his arms around her chest to pull her close.

  Melane blinked back unexpected tears. All the times she’d wanted the right and he gave it easily now. “Saran.”

  “I was foolish. These last months, I watched my brother with his mate, Mikayla. Vaan never made secret his love for the Raasa. After witnessing their bond, I thought...I thought in order to reach the same happiness, I desired a female of great courage and passion. Someone like his Su-Su.”

  There was no way Melane could have hid her flinch. Like a strike, the pain hit quickly and with ruthless efficiency. She jerked upright, every intention of leaving. Saran leaned down and hushed her, his hands pressing flat to her belly as she frantically struggled to rise.

  “Be at ease, Melane. Listen to what I speak.”

  Throat burning, Melane sniffed back the pain, her body rigid and no longer finding comfort in his touch. His broad palm swept down her torso leaving shivers but this time they stemmed from fear. Their naked bodies lay entwined except nothing divided them more. “Go on.”

  He buried his face along the back of her neck. One hand landed on her left hip and the other smoothed over the swell of her right breast. Absently she noticed the crooked fingers and how they rested near her nipple. The pink tip puffed up in reaction to the proximity.

  “You have the courage of a warrior.” He murmured the words against her skin.

  The denial tripped from her lips. “I am far from brave and strong.”

  “You are the bravest. Unafraid in the face of daunting odds.” Saran’s husky declaration shocked her.

  It meant a lot to hear him say such. Melane twisted about, unconcerned for the water flowing over the edge and the mess they created on the floor. Saran held her easily beneath her arms, their gazes catching. Her Warlord didn’t turn away and her heart nearly burst from its frantic beat. “You speak truth?”

  The door flew open. “Warlord Saran!”

  Melane jumped with a squeal and slipped, splashing about. Saran stood and blocked her from view. “What is this?!”

  “Kuran. He has launched a skirmish not far from here. Warriors spotted the flames from the battle. He burns another village.”

  Every nerve flared to life at Warlord Bran’s sudden interruption. The Warlord stared overlong at her nude top and Melane crossed her arms over her body. Saran leaped from the tub and away from Melane after throwing a drying towel in her direction. He jerked on a pair of clean leathers and buckled on his harness, sliding his sword in the scabbard. Surprising her, he snatched up the brown leather hand covering last and pulled it over his right hand.

  Her breathing grew shallow. An attack of this nature would be dangerous. If something happened to him...she immediately blocked the thought.

  Saran finished his preparations. His earlier expression of desire faded. Now he gazed at Melane with frustration. “I must leave.”

  Clutching the towel to her front, Melane nodded and stepped from the bath. “I understand, Saran. Truly. Do not hold worry for me.”

  He sighed and dragged a hand through the shoulder length hair she’d had her fingers in. Damp, the ends curled about his neck. “I made a vow.”

  Some of the mounting tension flowed from Melane. Her heart lightened. “Yes and we are fine, Warlord.”

  He shot her a disgruntled glare at the use of his title and Melane released the smile itching to burst free. This newfound freedom in their relationship gave her a confidence she formerly lacked.

  Warlord Bran grunted impatiently from his position by the door.

  “Go, Saran.” She made a shooing motion with her hand.

  Instead of leaving he approached her with unrushed steps and cornered her with his tall muscled body. “Be safe, sweet.”

  Sweet? Never before did he use a soft name for her. Saran’s knuckles smoothed over her cheek and the look in his eyes could only be described as tender.

  ***

  After another hesitation, Saran left Melane and the newly budding change in their relationship. Piece by piece she’d burrowed her way into his heart and he had no idea how to stop it to protect himself. Nor did he want to. Bran cast curious glances in his direction as they hurried down the stairs and burst through the lower level. Saran pretended to not take notice. He’d not let the judgment of others govern his actions any longer.

  Warlords and warriors alike turned at his arrival, gazes filled with anger and the hot need to avenge. Three steps from the bottom, Saran halted, giving him enough of an advantage to peer around. Amazement held his mouth closed at the level of trust aimed in his direction despite the injury they knew he sustained. This was what Vaan’s Warlords spoke of. This was his opportunity to strike back.

  “Warlord Saran!”

  “Take us to victory, Warlord!”

  Variations of the same words flew in his direction from the boisterous crowd. Casin strode toward him, grinning hugely. “Our chance has arrived. Kuran’s warriors have been spotted in the village. Will you lead us?”

  This moment defined how he would move forward. Now the true test began. He needed to prove to himself and Kaban that he was still capable of being a Warlord. Suddenly all of his doubts crumbled beneath the solid faith which had been placed in him. Saran didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

  Cheers rose, pounding his ears with the volume.

  “We leave now if you agree,” Casin said, waving at the others.

  There were over twenty anxious Kabanians present and more flowed from the massive doors. Too many for a fast, counter attack. “I will take only six to hunt with me.”

  While disgruntled none complained. Saran quickly singled out those he wanted to accompany him. All but Casin and Bran were warriors under his command, men assigned to him by the Overlord when he made status as a Warlord. They’d trained together and fought together. They held Saran’s trust. “Have Daviel prepare our mounts. For Kaban!”

  In moments, Saran sat on his favored hapfe. The others joined, mounting in lithe movements. When he searched the bustling, full courtyard, he spotted a freshly dressed Melane standing among the crowd. Thick black hair fell about her shoulders, her face without the paint women used to enhance their looks. Nothing compared to her beauty in his eyes.

  Saran tipped his head in her direction and had to work hard to keep his face blank when she beamed at him in return. Inside he nearly burst with pride and desire. Was this what Vaan felt when with Mikayla? Was this love?

  Emotions he couldn’t contain threatened to distract him from his purpose. His chest grew tight and he fought the urge to go back to her side for one more touch, one taste of her lips. Kuran first. Saran would deal with the former Warlord and then he needed to ask Melane to be his bride.

  Imagining her enthusiastic reaction to such an important question, a reluctant grin tugged at his lips. Melane’s eyes lit up in response and his grin turned into a bemused chuckle.

  With a renewed sense of confidence, Saran yelled, “For Kaban!”

  And they thundered off. Saran stayed in the lead going toward the wild blaze. He rode at a hard pace. A fight of this magnitude warranted the hardened Warlord from within not the man who slowly emerged beneath Melane’s care.

  Smoke poured over the rise as they approached the besieged village of Sokal. It was where the fight occurred. Sokal had barely recovered from t
he damage done prior to Vaan’s deep sleep.

  Thenl and his men had raided, leaving many of the villagers dead or dying. Slowly they’d begun to rebuild, to recover and now Kuran in his plot to overthrow Vaan brought back the painful memories with this cowardly attack.

  All six pulled up on their hapfe at the same time and withdrew the swords they wore strapped to their backs. Saran raised one arm and those riding with him came to a complete stop. “Spread out. Find them.”

  He gave the command, pulling the leads of his hapfe and spinning in a circle to view the devastation. Screams rained around him as his people panicked and sought to hide or run away. The heat of battle cast a pall on the air. Choking on the smell of burned homes, he forced down another wave of rampaging anger.

  Straining to see the attackers, Saran scanned the fleeing bystanders then suddenly tensed. A half dozen or so warriors emerged from the wreckage of destroyed homes. Greed and pure menace glowed from their dark eyes, their leathers smeared and stained with the blood of their own.

  “Betrayers to Kaban.” In disgust, Saran leaped to the ground and withdrew his sword on a shout. His warriors followed his charge and the battle began anew. Unlike the helpless villagers, Kuran’s men now faced warriors of equal skill.

  “Leave none standing!” Saran called out.

  The heat of battle pumped through his veins. Weeks of intense training slid into place as Saran fought with his sword gripped in his left hand. Nerves vanished and he launched into a flurry of strikes against the warrior kicking his way toward him. They leaped at one another, swords ringing together. Muscles strained, breath coming in growled snarls but through it all Saran kept his eyes on his opponent.

  Young. His first thought centered on how young this warrior appeared. Making no effort to hide his pleasure in the mayhem he caused, the warrior swung again and again.