“You stole them from a drying line?” Lyra had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling at his twisted logic. “I assume these are the shoes and accessories. They left these out as well?” Lyra held up the satchel.
“No, they were being neglected inside the house in one of those large trunks women use to pack things away forever.” Daene didn’t crack his expression. He looked as if his actions were totally reasonable, and legal.
“Well, I suppose some poor lady is going to find that her trunk doesn’t hold things forever.” She shook her head and went behind a tree to change. “Let’s just hope the owner of these things does not recognize them.” Lyra muttered to herself.
She came from behind the tree fully dressed and thoroughly feminine. She felt silly. That was until Daene gave her a smoldering look. Her heart skipped as he looked at her. It pleased her that she had that effect on him. He walked up to her slowly and stopped just short of a foot in front of her. His hand came up slowly caressing and cupping her chin and cheek. “You look ravishing, Lyra.” His voice came out deep and rumbling.
“Thank you,” Lyra whispered back as suddenly the air became thick with tension. His warm hand seemed to guide her upturned face to his. She closed her eyes as his firm lips pressed against hers. Lyra opened her mouth to him, and she tasted him in turn. His other hand took hold of her around the waist and pulled her body closer to his unnaturally warm one. Again, Lyra seemed drawn to the heat as it seeped through the dress down to her skin, deliciously burning her from the outside and penetrating her skin.
His hand traveled from her cheek to the back of her neck as the kiss became more demanding, insistent, dominating. It was almost as if he were claiming her. Lyra had no idea where her independent spirit had gone, because, for the life of her, she wanted to be dominated. She wanted to feel his large, masculine form on top of hers, wanted the full impact of his heat as his body slid against hers. A small sound of protest trickled from her partially opened mouth as he began to break the kiss. He placed one solid kiss against her lips before he drew away.
“If we do not stop this right now, we will never get around to the business at hand,” he said softly running a hand through her hair.
Not trusting her voice, Lyra nodded as she retrieved her drinking container and checked to make sure her weapons were in place.
“This isn’t over by any means, Lady Prince,” he warned her. “One thing you need to know about Draegonii, we never leave business unfinished.”
Lyra looked at him for a heartbeat before she brushed past him, heading for the town of Evera. One thing he needed to know about her, she would not be easily conquered.
Chapter 9
As they approached the gates, Daene stopped walking and looked at her. His eyes bore the same twinkle as when he had first seen her in the dress. He had not spoken a word to her only gruffly suggested they move fast. “What is it?” Lyra asked confused.
“We approach the gates of the city.”
“So?”
“So do you not remember any of what was taught to you as a young girl? You are to walk behind me at the end of this.” Daene held up the end of the line with the cuff around it.
With jerky movements, Lyra presented her slim wrist to Daene, who secured the soft cuff around it. In agreeing to be his wife, she’d forgotten that she had agreed to be led around like a pet. Wives were subordinates. Men never let them or the rest of society forget it with the Marital Tether.
“You hold your head up too proud. Don’t forget—”
“I know!” Lyra growled low, and she could have sworn she heard him chuckle.
Tethered with her head bowed low, Lyra followed Daene. She had to let him do all the talking when they got to the gates. It wasn’t as if she were allowed to speak anyway. Daene had been right to remind her of her carriage. She had to consciously remember to walk with her head down. After a few steps, Daene yanked her lightly when she fell behind while concentrating too hard on appearing submissive.
The guards had already been drinking and Daene and Lyra were waved through the gates with hardly a second glance. Daene stopped and pretended to adjust the cuff around her wrist. “I need to get into the part of the establishment where they are choosing the wives,” he murmured.
If Lyra felt humiliated walking alone behind her “husband,” it tripled when she saw the hordes of married couples doing the same societal dance. Wives trailed after their husbands by the multitudes. Many of the women were in fine, expensive dresses with large precious jewels adorning their bodies. Lyra didn’t think it was a fair tradeoff.
Husbands talked idly, holding the Marital Tethers with practiced ease. A few of the more liberal husbands, allowed their wives to converse with other wives. She was glad Daene simply made passing comments and kept moving gracefully toward the kitchens. Lyra knew the kitchens connected with the other large gathering rooms because she had smuggled out a bride who was minutes away from performing the oral ceremony. That had been a close call. “We need to get into the kitchen.”
Daene backed Lyra against the wall next to the kitchen door. He pressed close to her and lowered his head to the side of her neck, blowing warm air. Skillfully, he slipped the tether from her wrist and threw it into a nearby corner, where it was indiscernible in the shadows.
“What are you doing?” Lyra hissed at him, learning to control her voice from revealing the instant desire that flared up. It only sounded a little husky.
“You must not have listened to your teacher very well.” He breathed softly against her warm skin as he placed light kisses on her neck. “Have you forgotten a husband can indulge himself of his wife’s charms anytime and anywhere he wishes?” His teeth grazed her neck, and he lifted his dark head to look her in the eye before lowering his head to the other side of her neck.
“We need to slip into the kitchen when the door opens. I can see in and most of the staff is serving out here,” he said in a low voice as he began to nibble on her ear. A servant walked by, and for a moment, Lyra thought she looked familiar, but then Daene licked the whirls of her ear and distracted her.
Lyra closed her eyes and sighed at the sensation. A couple walked past, and Lyra’s eyes flew open. The woman at the end of the tether risked a glance at Lyra and Daene. She smiled knowingly at Lyra. Her face burned in embarrassment. She looked like a woman who enjoyed being handled in public. Her first instinct was to push Daene off her, but his strong hands clasped her shoulders, and he spun them into the open door of the kitchen.
As luck would have it, the kitchen was empty of servers. The cooks were so engrossed they didn’t see them. Lyra rushed them in. “Oh no,” she breathed.
“What is it?” Daene asked in concern.
“I know that servant. She’s Feznik’s wife. She will recognize me.”
“Forget about her.”
“No, Daene. You want to get caught before you’ve even had a chance? Give me a moment to take care of this.”
“Don’t get caught.” His eyes had concern, though his voice was hard.
“I’m the Lady Prince, you forget.” She flashed him a smile before she turned and went down the passageway she was sure the woman had went down. Feznik made sure his commodities were fed before the showing. Because the brides-to-be couldn’t be let out of their cages, kitchen staff brought them food directly. Feznik’s wife was in charge of the kitchen.
She made it to the cages without incident. Feznik’s wife handed one of the girls a tray of food through the slot as she taunted her. Her wide hips swayed as she made her way back to the passageway. The woman let out a yelp of surprise when Lyra stepped in front of her. “I’m afraid there’s going to be one more bride to show this evening.” Lyra smiled sweetly at the woman.
* * * *
Lyra was glad she had that crash course on Siamin locks. She found the magnetic key on the plump form and dragged the heavy body into one of the empty cells. Lyra looked at the big, frightened eyes of the young girls and made a decision. T
he women in this wing of cells would be shown last. They had time to run. Lyra tripped each lock and, with hasty instructions, urged the girls to the passageway she had used before.
As she made her way back through the passageway, a form of a man stood in her path. “What are you doing here?” he asked. Lyra began to reach for her knife.
“Ah, my good man, thank you for finding my drunken wife!” Daene’s voice reverberated down the passageway. Lyra let out a breath as Daene’s large frame came closer. “You give them a little freedom to see to their womanly needs, and then you have chaos.” Daene shook his head as if she were some naughty child.
“Not a problem, good sir.”
The servant eyed Lyra again. She decided it was time to act a little more inebriated. “Well, hello, husband,” Lyra lisped out. I couldn’t seem to find my way back.” She stumbled toward him, and he took her wrist as he began to lead her back to the kitchen.
“Thank you again, my good man.” Daene called back. They made it back to the kitchen in record time. “That was too close. I told you not to get caught,” he scolded her.
“That’s right. I forgot. I’ll remember that next time,” Lyra responded sarcastically. “I cannot control who goes down that passageway.” Lyra snapped, happy to see him and irritated at the same time. “Besides I was prepared to kill him if need be.” Daene didn’t look convinced. “All right, so I don’t kill innocent people, I was going to just knock him out.”
Daene grinned at her. “I do like a little fire to a woman.” Lyra ignored his remark.
“How do we get to the Wife Choosing ceremony?” He softly pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. That Lyra couldn’t ignore. Her stomach fluttered.
“First, we get to the other side of this monstrous kitchen, it’s the heart of the Hostel,” Lyra said as she began to hear voices coming nearer. “There’s a passageway that goes to the part of the establishment that is holding the other events.” She whispered as they scuffled to the other side of the kitchen. They took up a small corner.
“You don’t have to do this. It is not part of our agreement. You can tell me where it is—”
“You won’t get far without me. You need me by your side to allay suspicion. If you get caught alone, they will kill you without question. However, with a wife by your side…”
Daene laughed, tilting her chin up for her to look him in the eyes. “I am no fool, Lyra. If I get caught, they will know you are with me, and therefore, you will be under arrest or killed.”
Lyra smiled. He was smarter than she gave him credit for. “That might be true, but if we stay together, we both have a better chance of getting out of this alive.” Lyra forced her head back down as another couple approached and passed them.
“I have no plans of dying,” he whispered to her. “When this is over I have other more—delectable plans.” His eyelids dropped until he was giving her a searing look that caused chills to parade boldly up and down her spine. Her mouth was too dry to speak. He cocked his head waiting for her directions. Lyra cleared her throat and quietly directed him to the small passageway the servants used that led to the hall of the more private and privileged ceremony.
The room was lushly furnished. Large, chairs that resembled thrones were placed in a wide circle. Lyra counted ten in all. Each chair had a small, ornately carved stool with lavish fabric over generous padding. Lyra couldn’t help but admire the luxurious décor. She was about to speak when she heard the door opening on the other side of the room. Thinking quickly, she pulled Daene behind one many of the large standing mirrors in the corner of the room.
“…sends his utmost apologies.” A thin, whiny male voice began to fill the room. The muffled steps of many echoed in the room. “The servants have been ordered not to disturb for at least an hour, and if that is all, I’ll leave you to your new prospective brides.”
“Wait.” A strong voice stopped the man. “Just for clarification, it is not against house rules to sample another’s prospective bride. It is understood of course there is only one claim to the girl. You see in another establishment this was greatly frowned upon, but since there are no royals here…” The voice paused. “You are aware of my great inconvenience of having my royal brides not being at your establishment as promised?”
The whining voice sputtered, as he tried to quickly apologize. “Yes, sir, and if the others here don’t mind, Feznik’s Hostel will not object to any sampling.”
Other male voices quickly agreed that sampling was a fine idea. Hearing that the women would be passed around made Lyra sick. Daene’s fingers had begun biting into her shoulders as soon as the prospective groom spoke again. She peeled his hand off her shoulder and turned slightly to look at him. His eyes were blazing a deep blood red.
“Thank you. It’s the least that could be done.” The man sniffed arrogantly. Moments later, Lyra heard the door opening then closing. There was rustling in the room, and Lyra could only imagine what was going on. She turned to Daene, who seemed to be having a hard time getting his unexplained anger under controlled.
She put her fingers to her lips indicating that he should be quiet while they peeked into the room. Taking a deep breath Lyra cautiously looked around the mirror and saw that only seven of the chairs were filled. She also saw what the stools were for. The women kneeled on the stools in front of the throne like chairs in which the men sat, their cocks exposed and aroused.
Each man was giving the woman before him directions. Lyra watched with her mouth open as one of the women grabbed her groom around the base of his cock. He whispered something low to her, and when she began to lick the head of his cock slowly, he grumbled his pleasure. The other women began mimicking her. In no time, the grooms were holding the sides of the women’s head and pushing it down on their erections.
It was the first time Lyra had seen the Oral Ceremony. Despite herself, Lyra was getting aroused. The men became very vocal in their expressions of pleasure. Some just grunted. Lyra’s eyes stayed glued to the first woman. She was pleasuring a rather handsome man with long, braided blond hair. It was graying slightly at the temples. He had a tattoo around his neck that looked a lot like the necklace around Daene’s neck, except the tattoo had two stones embedded, an orange and red stone and a blue one, where Daene’s had none.
The man roared his release as the woman suckled him hard. He held her head in place despite the choking sounds she made. When he was spent, he released her head. The woman seemed to gasp for air.
“That is odd, Lady Prince,” he said into her ear.
“What?” she said quietly.
“You seem to have a thing for murderers.” His tone was clipped, angry.
“I have no such thing,” she said in denial, still staring at the couple. The man looked at his fellow males, waiting impatiently it seemed for them to finish.
“Truly you do. The one you lust after, with the hair the color of sunshine,” he began. His tone was hard, though his hands trailed up and down her arms lightly.
“What of him?” Lyra queried softly.
“He is the one responsible for Baxton’s death,” he quietly announced.
Chapter 10
He hadn’t meant to tell her in such a manner. But Lyra had gotten aroused at the sight of Kripken being pleasured by one of the women, he felt the ugliness of jealousy kick in. In his mind, he wanted her to want no other than him.
The night Kripken invaded their homeland, Lyra said that Baxton had been killed. That made him responsible the same as if he had killed him personally. Kripken’s small troop had burned the villages and killed many. Daene held him responsible for each and every death.
After he said the words, Daene immediately regretted them. He stayed focused on the red and orange stone in the tattoo, and rage filled him. That Dracontias stone belonged to him and his family. A piece of it was his by birthright. The sludge mutt had not only his stone, but also that of Daene’s much stronger gifted family stone. He would see to it that Kripken would pay with his life.
The others in the room were all human, males and female alike. Kripken would not go down easily and would not hesitate to use anyone in the room as fodder. Daene glanced down at the dark head of Lyra. He couldn’t risk Kripken hurting Lyra. He would have to follow Kripken back to his room and kill him. He had only to follow his foul scent.
“How dare you?” her voice was soft but angry.
“It’s true, Lyra.” Daene whispered. “I will tell you more later—”
“That you will,” she grumbled.
After a few more shouts of release, Daene knew the women were being shifted. He looked around the other side of the mirror, and he fought in vain to not be aroused by the sight of women pleasuring the men. His cock became hard, and he knew Lyra could feel his hardness because he was so close to her, his front to her back.
Since the men had already achieved orgasm, they took longer to reach their second peak. Lyra and Daene listened as the sounds of suckling and moans filled their ears. Peeks around the large mirror didn’t help matters either. Daene couldn’t help himself as he bent quietly and took the hem of Lyra’s dress up to her hip. He smiled when he felt the knife strapped to her thigh. He could feel her breathing quicken, but she didn’t stop him. He had to admire a lady who could be mad at him and still let him touch her intimately.
As soon as the dress reached her hip, the perfume of her arousal wafted up stronger, and he inhaled slowly, knowing he swelled even more. Having no undergarments on, his hands found her soft, moist nether lips without an obstacle. His hand traveled slowly searching for the tiny bud that was already slick and hard. He pulled her back, taking her weight as he massaged the bud.
Her head fell against his chest, and they both listened to the sounds of the Oral Ceremony as his fingers worked against her. To his surprise, she reached back, slid her hands between them until she found the long, hard cock straining against the material of his pants, and began to stroke it up and down. He closed his eyes and had to remind himself that they must stay quiet and that he couldn’t let Kripken know there was another Draegonii in the room.
The Lady Prince (Siren Publishing Classic) Page 6