Men of Valor, Books 1

Home > Other > Men of Valor, Books 1 > Page 17
Men of Valor, Books 1 Page 17

by Kiru Taye


  Unhurried, he turned around. She looked up at his face. In his eyes, she saw his torment. A lump lodged in her throat choking her. She swallowed hard.

  This man cared for her more than any man ever did. Before she could say anything, he pulled her with his unbound arm to his chest and fused their lips together.

  Emeka was kissing her again!

  Did she dare to believe it? Was she in dreamland? Let no one wake her if she was. The thing she'd prayed for was happening, at last.

  At first gentle, his tongue swiped across her lips, teasing her. Then he probed for entry. She parted her lips, this time more confident after their encounter at the poolside.

  He tasted divine. His tongue masterful in her mouth, sensation exploded through her body. Heat flowed in her veins. The world tilted. Her knees wobbled as if the ground beneath her feet quaked.

  Tighter, he held her to his hard body. His large hand splayed across her round bottoms. The swell of his manhood pulsed against her belly. The feel of her sensitive breasts and taut nipples on his chest—hard contours and bristly hairs—wrecked havoc on her already overloaded emotions. She wanted more of him. Wanted the fulfillment of the pleasure the kiss promised.

  The ached in her core deepened. A strangled moan escaped her lips when he lifted his head.

  They stood still staring at each other as their chests rose and fell, needing more air than the room seemed to have.

  She gulped in air, feeling light-headed. His eyes burned with flames of desire. He looked like a man who wanted to claim her. A warm shiver traveled down her spine. His hand moved up her back, massaging it.

  "Ezinne, I want to love you the way a man loves a woman. Yet I'm torn because I know this can only be for a few days more."

  More warm tingles spread through her as joy filled her heart. His words pleased her to no end. He desired her. That was enough for her. Tilting her head, she beamed him a smile of pure delight.

  "A few days are more than I ever hoped for. I have yearned for your love, Emeka, for you to soothe the ache growing within me with your touch and your body."

  "You have?" He studied her with a curious expression, his lips tilting up in a glorious grin.

  Lowering her lashes to conceal her eyes, she nodded in response. She was unable to speak as her throat clogged up with emotion.

  He let out a heavy breath, the warm air fanning her cheeks. He smelled of the clean night air after rain. Leaning his head against hers, he whispered against her skin in a husky voice. "You deserve so much more than a few nights in my bed, Ezinne. I want to give you the world."

  She nearly wept with joy. She'd never been this happy. No one had ever said anything like that to her. Pulling her head back, she cupped his chin, loving the feel of his bristles against her palm.

  "For me, a few nights with you are better than nothing. I want to make the most of the time we have left together."

  Darkness flickered through his eyes, his smile turned wry as he shook his head.

  "You don't understand. Making you my concubine goes against everything I stand for and my honor as the prince of Umunri." He paused and let out a grave sigh as if resigned to fate. "I'll summon Nonye home immediately, and she will unbind you from your ties with her. Then I'll make you my wife."

  A chill went through Ezinne, goose bumps mottling her flesh. She pulled away, shaking her head. Untangling her body from Emeka's, sadness overtook her and all her pleasure for his kiss evaporated. She moved to the table.

  Already, she had lost her appetite. But she needed a place to sit so she didn't topple over from the tremors that racked her body. After sitting down, she lowered her head into her hands.

  "Ezinne, what's the matter?" Emeka walked to her and sat beside her. He pulled up her chin. "You look less than happy. Is the thought of being my second wife that disagreeable?"

  Heaving a sigh, she tried to smile but couldn't. Misery wrapped its claws around her body, pulling her shoulders down.

  "I cannot be your wife," she said, the words simple yet heavy on her tongue. She didn't even want to think about it. Why did he have to bring it up?

  "Why not?" Emeka frowned, his eyebrow raised in unbelieving query.

  "Look at me. I'm a slave." His frown deepened, and he looked like he would retort but she continued. "Yes, I know Umunri doesn't have slaves, but it doesn't change who I'm. You'll put your future as king in jeopardy for even thinking it. I cannot allow it. Princes don't marry slaves."

  "Who says? As prince I can choose my own wife," he countered with confidence.

  "Just the way you chose Nonye, right?" She had to make him see sense.

  "I could have disagreed with that marriage if I'd wanted to. Anyway, that has nothing to do with this. Knowing the sacrifice I made for Umunri with Nonye, there's no way they can decide for me whom I marry next. And I choose you. So stop arguing and agree to it."

  She shook her head. He was just as pigheaded as she was. She would have laughed if the matter wasn't so grave. "I'm not at liberty to agree to a marriage with you. It is for my mistress, Nonye, to decide if I'm to marry and to whom. I know she’ll never allow it."

  "I'll command her to. She cannot have a slave in Umunri. She’ll do as I bid her," he snapped, his annoyance at her disagreement to his proposal obvious in his tone.

  There was nothing she could do. Her hands were tied. It wasn't her decision to make.

  "It shows how little you know her."

  His gaze flicked toward her, and his forehead furrowed. Seeing his response, she wished she could call back the words.

  "What's that supposed to mean? Is there something I should know? Something you're not telling me?"

  Letting out a resigned sigh, she lifted her shoulder and shrugged. It wasn't her place to tell tales about Nonye. She still owed her mistress some loyalty regardless.

  "There's nothing to tell. It's just that Nonye won't be happy to have me as a rival wife,” she said, hoping to appease him and halt further questions. “When she made this arrangement, I was to be your concubine for a limited time, not your wife. I don't see that she will change her mind easily.”

  She paused for effect.

  “If anything, she will blame me for seducing you and trying to wreck her marriage. I don't want that on my conscience. If you care about me the way you say you do, drop this thing about making me your wife. It will not end well. Please."

  She held onto his arm, hoping he would grant her this one request.

  He placed his hand on top of hers. The warmth of his palm permeated hers, soothing her. "Is that really what you want?" he asked his tone gentle.

  "Yes."

  "If it makes you happy, then I'll not raise the matter again. But I still intend to get Nonye to release you. You will become free."

  Relief slammed into her, the breath she’d been holding let loose.

  "Thank you.”

  Now that they’d resolved their disagreement she could continued with her plan for the night.

  “I noticed a lot of visitors in the palace today. Was there a meeting of the council?” she asked.

  Despite the strength of her feelings for Emeka, the distrustful side of her still wanted some reassurance. Would Emeka be forthcoming about grave matters? Or did he just lust after her body?

  "You are quite observant. Yes the ruling council had an emergency session today."

  "It sounds serious. I hope all is well in Umunri."

  Emeka assessed her for a moment as if weighing up how much detail to divulge. "This is not a matter for idle chatter in the market square. Do you understand?"

  "Yes, my prince." She replied without thinking.

  "I’m telling you this because I think you should know. There is a threat of war at Umulari. And Umunri could be dragged into it if not resolved diplomatically."

  “Dear gods,” she gasped. “I hope it doesn’t come to pass.”

  Though Umulari held bad memories for her, she didn’t wish it citizens any harm.

  “I hope so too,
” he replied in a grave voice. His brows knotted together in a frown.

  “Forgive me, my prince. I have not been a good companion.” She rose and stood behind him.

  “Nonsense. You’ve been more than good except when you refuse to use my given name,” he teased.

  She placed her palms on his cool back. “I’m serious. While you have grave matters to contend I have burdened you with trivial issues and given you little pleasure. What kind of companion does that make me?”

  She kneaded his tense back muscles starting from his neck downward, avoiding his injured shoulder.

  “One that is very skilled with her hands.” Emeka’s pleased groan vibrated through her belly.

  “Where did you learn to do that?” he asked before releasing another grunt of contentment.

  “I was trained when I learnt my duties as a handmaiden.”

  “What else did you learn how to do?”

  She tensed, her hand froze on his skin. “I refused to train as a pleasure maiden. It was one of the options but being a palace courtesan didn’t appeal to me.” Her words sounded stiff.

  Emeka rotated in his chair to face her. The concern in his eyes nearly floored her. She clutched her palms together.

  “That wasn’t what I meant, Ezinne. I was taken aback with how good a masseuse you are,” he said. “Come and sit down. At this rate we will never eat dinner.”

  “There are other things I would rather do." She knelt beside him. “Let me show you my gratitude for everything you’ve done for me in the past few weeks, especially releasing me from my bonds.”

  He pulled her up to sit back on the chair. "You don't owe me anything. Freeing you is an obligation I owe you as a citizen of Umunri. It is your right, not a privilege."

  "I know." She caressed his arm with her fingers, hoping it would have the desired effect. She kept her voice low, sultry, as she'd seen Nonye do several times. "But you've done so much for me. You've given me so many gifts. I want to give you something back. I know it is nothing compared to what you own, but it would please me if you accept my gift."

  He caressed her face with his other hand. Warm tingles spread through her, pooling at her center "Whatever it is, I accept it." His voice reminded her of feet crunching over gravels, the vibrations reverberating through her body.

  His words encouraged her, her fear of rejection fading. She wasn’t a naturally seductress, but she moved her lips in a smile she hoped had the desired effect.

  "My gift to you is all I have and precious to me. It is the heart of a slave, lowborn, worth nothing. It is my love blooming without conditions. It is my body that yearns for your fulfillment. It is all that I am."

  His eyes picked up the flickering of the lamp and sparkled, his lips uplifted. He pulled her onto his lap. His thigh felt firm and strong beneath her yielding bottom. "You honor me with such a precious gift, my love. Do you not know what you mean to me?"

  Taking her hand, he placed it on his chest above his heart. She felt its strong erratic beat echoing the rhythm of hers. Her stomach churned with excitement.

  "Do you not know that being here with you at the evening meal is the highlight of my day? Do you not know that I count the moments until I see you? That I dream of you every night?"

  "If it's so, then show me. Tonight, make me your woman."

  Without saying another word, he winced as he lifted her into his arms and carried her into his sleeping chamber.

  Chapter Eight

  Emeka stepped into his bed chamber with Ezinne, all thoughts of dinner out of his mind. His eyes focused on the loveliness of the woman in his arms. His pulse raced with expectancy, his body primed with desire and hardening by the moment.

  In his mind the war waged on; delight against despair. He wanted this woman in every way possible. It seemed she wanted him in return. She had offered herself to him. It still felt like he was letting her down by this half measure. This temporary contentment.

  They only had a few days but he wanted forever. They would only be sharing his bed but he wanted to give her his home. He would be worshiping her body but he wanted to be bound to her heart.

  She deserved a place of worth in his life.

  Gently, he lowered her. Her body slide down, soft curves touching firm flesh. A groan erupted in his throat. A haze of lust blanketed him. When her feet met the floor, she looked up at him. Her brown eyes burned with flames of longing, flames he knew matched his.

  He gazed upon her lips; full and firm. They were inviting, sweet and succulent too. When their tongues had danced, her kisses had been that of a woman unexplored, a woman not used to the attention of men.

  He couldn't help but compare her tentative touch to that of Nonye's knowing and refined actions. His wife was a woman well skilled in the act of seduction; every stroke and motion intended to lure a man to explore untold intimacies.

  However, Ezinne's movements were uncertain and awkward. She remained still in his arms when their tongues mated. Yet her eager response indicated her latent sensuality, waiting to be awakened by the right man.

  Was he the right man? Was he doing the right thing? He'd asked her to marry him, and she'd refused. He understood her fears. There were so many things that needed to be resolved before they could ever take that step.

  First, Nonye needed to release her from her servile bonds. Then he would have to seek Nonye's consent to take another wife. To take Ezinne as his wife. While it was his right, he would never do it without Nonye's consent. As his first wife, she deserved that respect.

  There was a strong possibility that Nonye would not agree to Ezinne as her rival. He could only hope that Nonye saw Ezinne more of an equal than a servant. That would ease matters a little.

  He stroked Ezinne's cheek with his fingers, her face soft and warm against his palm. His other arm curved behind her, caressing the bare skin of her back. Her skin was lush, the light scent of coconut oil filtering into his nostrils, warming his blood.

  He tilted her chin so he could see her face better in the shadowed room lit only by a low burning torch on a sconce. She let out a soft gasp, her mouth opened, inviting him in.

  Without hesitation he lowered his head, eagerly melding their lips. He swallowed her soft sigh as she moved closer to him, her breasts crushed against his chest. Her fervor was nearly his undoing. He couldn't believe that she proffered herself so willingly, so enticingly—such a rare, scrumptious bequest.

  Her sweetness surpassed that of sugarcane. She was more intoxicating than fresh palm wine. She was full of the promise of dark surrender and sensual fulfillment. From the first day he'd seen her arrive with Nonye, he'd wanted her in ways so carnal he'd been ashamed of his own wayward thoughts. Now standing with Ezinne in his embrace, he knew he could no longer resist her.

  He'd sacrificed so much for his people, always lived his life above reproach. Tonight he might be about to fall from grace. But for once his tortured soul didn't care for rules and principles. It sought a union with this woman in his arms.

  Tomorrow there would be a price to pay. For tonight he would indulge in the pleasures he’d yearned for in past two months.

  In alternating motions, he caressed her tongue with his and then placed light nips on her lips. Entangling his fingers in her hair, he drank from her lips like a man dying of thirst.

  Soft moans of pleasure escaped her lips. The sound was painful and provocative as cavernous hunger swept through his body, swelling his flesh in arousal. His heart echoed in his chest like drum beat in the festivals.

  Unable to hold back any longer, he lifted her and placed her on the fur-padded pallet, his actions controlled and tender due to his hurting arm. Her dark oiled skin gleamed in the dim light. The gold in her eyes swirled reminding him of a furnace. There was no mistaking the invitation in the unabashed depths of her eyes. The desire. The tenderness. The love.

  A fist squeezed his chest. Ezinne presented herself to him in total surrender. A sacrifice—his sleeping chamber, the shrine of their love and his
pallet, the altar of its consummation.

  Her readiness touched his soul. Her bold enticement hid the heart of an innocent. A temptation he could no longer resist.

  Deliberately he removed his clothing, loosening the toga and letting it drop at his feet. As his hands moved to his loincloth, he noticed that her glittering eyes followed his movements. They stopped, fixated, when he halted.

  He lips lifted in a slow smile of pride that she waited for him. Waited to see all of him. Anticipation quickened his motion, his loincloth falling away. His manhood pulsed as if happy to be released from its confinement. She licked her lips, the movement of her tongue across their soft flesh increasing his arousal.

  Wanting to see more of her, he bent over and tugged her skirt. He rolled it down her thighs and legs. He took a deep breath. The sweet scent of her arousal hit his stomach, and her juices glistened in the dark curls shielding her hooded gem.

  He moved his hand up her thigh, caressing it with tender care. He fixed his gaze on her breasts, the perfect appealing orbs, and leaned over to taste them. At first he licked the soft flesh. Then, he pulled the skin into his mouth, sucking hard. Her soft moans increased when his fingers parted her hooded flesh and he touched her intimate skin.

  Suddenly her body went still beneath him. Sensing something was wrong, he looked at her face. She looked worried. Hesitant. She bit her lip and turned her face away.

  He moved his hand from her thigh to her face. He turned it back so she would look at him. "Ezinne, what's wrong? Did I hurt you?"

  She shook her head, tears glimmer in her eyes. "No, it's not that." Her voice sounded troubled.

  He lay beside her and cradled her head against his shoulder, massaging her back in gentle soothing stokes. "What is it that worries you? Tell me and I'll make it right for you."

  She broke into a full sob, sniffing louder, her tears dropping onto his chest.

  “Ezi m, my precious, don’t cry.” He held her, speaking in a mellow tone into her hair. His need to possess her was relegated by his need to protect her. He cared for her and was prepared to wait until she was ready.

 

‹ Prev