His fingers became drenched in her moistness, and he used the lubrication to gently probe her with two fingers. It was a shallow entry but enough to make her breath heavier and push against his fingers. He took the smallest step to the side, and they both could see the small group without being seen. Daene removed her hand from his arousal and quietly pulled his cock of his pants.
He heaped up the material of her dress in the back and settled his cock in the seam of her soft firm bottom. Daene pressed her closer to him as he pushed against her. The skin-to-skin contact was amazing. As he masturbated against her, he stimulated Lyra with his fingers.
The room was encased in the aura of sex. It became heady, catching. Their low moans of pleasure were lost in the sea of grunts and shouts from the prospective grooms. Daene watched as a redhead bobbed up and down on the cock of one of the men. The groom had taken the base of his cock in his hand, and the poor girl was too inexperienced to know what Daene clearly saw was about to happen.
The groom put one hand on the girl’s head and pulled his cock from her mouth. She looked up in surprise, only to have the man release himself onto her face. She gasped in surprise and the man shoved his cock back into her mouth and directed her to continue suckling. Lyra must have been watching the same couple, for her knees practically buckled as she came, her muscles squeezing his fingers inside of her. Seconds later, he found himself splattering ejaculate between the firm cheeks of her butt.
They were breathing heavy and trying to keep from being heard. Reluctantly, Daene withdrew his fingers and let her dress fall back to its natural order. A few more shouts of pleasure, and Daene knew the evening festivities would soon be over. The men thanked and congratulated each other on brides well chosen. Daene kept a sharp eye on Kripken.
When the room was finally empty, Lyra breathed a sigh of relief. “They won’t be back tonight. The servants will be however to clean, so we have to get out of here. Who was that man you accused of killing my brother?” Lyra turned around her arms crossed in front of her chest. She still had the flush from her orgasm and seemed to be ignoring the fact of what they just did rather well.
He guessed it was easier of for her to focus on something else than him. Fine for now, he would get her to admit how much she wanted him later. “His name is Kripken, and he is the man I am after.”
“Why did you say he killed my brother? Rogue invaders killed him. Do you know remember the night Hamari was invaded?”
“I remember all too well. I apologize for telling you the way I told you, but it is true. When we leave this place, I promise to tell you everything.”
“Why now? Why tell me this now?” she asked as they made their way to the door the others had used for an exit.
He couldn’t possibly tell her she had made him jealous lusting after another. Not to mention the man was his mortal enemy. “Because I thought it best to wait to have a face with a name,” he replied and put a finger to his lip for silence. Lyra snapped her jaws closed but with a warning look to inform him this wasn’t finished.
Daene stood near the door using his keen hearing. He heard nothing but had a rather uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. Something was wrong. He needed to get Lyra out. He knew she was more than capable of taking care of herself but he certainly didn’t want to be the cause of any misfortune she had.
She kept looking at him impatiently. Every warning he had was going off. He heard nothing, but still, something ate at him. He finally decided that whatever was going to happen couldn’t be helped. He motioned for Lyra to get behind him, and he turned the knob carefully. Daene pulled the door open and found himself looking down a long, dark corridor. He could smell Kripken’s scent, and his rage began to boil. He took the first few steps out the door when a steel blade was braced precariously against his throat.
“That’s one step too many Draegonii,” came Kripken’s slithering tone. “You didn’t think for a moment I didn’t know you were in that room?” Kripken tsked as he gestured for Daene to walk slowly away from the room. “Rookie mistake, young Draegonii. Why did you think I insisted on sampling brides? With the strong scent of mating in the air, it’s quite hard to distinguish scents quickly. You see, it totally masked the scent of one of my personal guards.” Daene turned his head slightly to see a man had a blade to Lyra’s throat as well. “We are a sensual race, are we not? Our judgment becomes clouded when mating is involved.” Kripken laughed in triumph. “I have been expecting you to for some time now.”
Daene felt fear for the second time in his life. The first time was that tragic night in Hamari, and now. He had allowed them to be trapped. That was a rookie mistake.
“Of course, you don’t know the power of the Dracontias, do you?” Kripken laughed. “Your family chose well, this stone is very powerful. Many follow me. They follow my power,” he said admiringly. “It is strong and will bring me many fine Draegonii sons. You see, I have merged with both stones.”
“Kripken, it is a dishonor to reject the stone your forefathers have procured. There is a price to pay for such an insolent act,” Daene warned. Kripken pressed the blade closer to his throat.
“I have not rejected the stone, merely enhanced its potential with your stone. I have had no repercussions yet. You will find that stories get passed on, and it is forgotten they are just stories. The Draegonii need to move out of hiding and take our place above the humans. Your family’s stone, or should I say my stone will give me the power to do that. It is mine now after all.” Kripken laughed.
“I will quicken my family once again, Kripken. It starts with your death.”
“Brave words, indeed. I would love someone like you on my side when I rule. But that is not to be. I knew you would come for me. I have not worried. The stories make you bigger than life. Yet, here you are at the end of my blade, and I haven’t even so much as broken a sweat.”
Daene said nothing. He watched the man with the blade to Lyra’s throat. Her eyes held no fear, and he knew she was waiting for her moment.
“Ah, how sweet.” Kripken took a deep breath. “I can smell her, Daene. She is ripe for the picking. A virgin.” Kripken looked at her with more interest. “I know you.”
“All human women look alike to you, Kripken,” Daene hurriedly cut in. Lyra was a royal and a virgin, a potent cocktail for Kripken, if he knew.
Daene knew he should control his anger. Kripken inhaled again. Daene, in a flash of movement, knocked the blade from Kripken’s hand. Kripken turned, blocking the blow Daene tried to execute to his throat. It was a blur, with Daene and Kripken giving and taking blows.
Kripken, however, had the strength of the stone within him. The tattoo pulsed, and the stones within it burst with light. Kripken partially shifted his hands in to full dragon claws. Hard, golden scales began to cover his body and deflected the blows. Daene could not hold out against a partially formed Draegonii. Kripken swept at him with long, curved talons, causing three jagged furrows in Daene’s side. One of the furrows nearly went down to the bone of one of his ribs. Daene howled in pain. Kripken cuffed him upside the head with his hard, scaled hands. Blood poured from his wound, and the blow from the half-formed dragon disoriented him. He fell to his knees.
Lyra screamed his name as she fought the man holding her. In three moves, the man was on his back. Daene didn’t know if the man was dead or alive. Lyra rushed toward him, but Kripken snaked her around the waist. She fought wildly, but Kripken put a threatening claw to her jugular. Daene reached for her, but Kripken slowly dragged her out of his grasp.
“I have only seen a woman fight like that once.” Kripken licked her cheek perversely. “Hello, Lady Prince,” he said formally. “Looks like I have my royal virgin.” Kripken looked Daene in the eye before kicking him in the head. Blood blinded Daene before darkness did.
Chapter 11
Far be it for Lyra to tell the mighty Draegonii lord that they had been going in circles for a whole day. As it was, she was grateful they hadn’t discovered the knife
strapped to her ankle. She was put on a horse with her hands tied behind her back with another woman that she recognized from the Oral Ceremony. She didn’t suppose a little thing like a marriage ceremony would prevent Kripken from calling the woman his wife. After all, she had been chosen and had pleasured him. Money had exchanged hands. That was legal enough for most men.
She, on the other hand, would be a different story. She was a Lady Prince and, therefore, could not be legally taken as a bride. She could be illegally held as a mistress, however. The scaly bastard kept sniffing around her like an adolescent boy. She barely slept through the night, afraid she would wake up with him rutting her. She had been spared as he had chosen to mate with his bride. The poor girl had cried all night.
Even now, as the girl sat behind Lyra on the horse, she still sniffled. Lyra could only hear what went on, and he had been rough with the young woman. Her heart went out to the young woman. Right now, she had to figure out a way to get herself and the woman out of Kripken’s clutches. She had to keep her attention sharp and seize the first opportunity she got.
Her heart, however, was cold. She remembered the way Daene’s body had rolled into the ravine lifeless. There was so much blood that Lyra was sure he had bled to death. He’d wanted to save her. She saw it in his eyes. But he had been no match for the powerful Draegonii. Her heart wept for a man she barely knew. She kept seeing his handsome face. When she got away, she would find his body and give him the proper burial he deserved. She now had two reasons to want Kripken dead. Now she understood the motivation that drove Daene to seek him out and want kill him.
She wanted to see Kripken dead. Lyra wondered if she asked Kripken about the night Hamari had been invaded if would he admit to his crimes. If what Daene told her was true, and she suspected it was, she was in the presence of the one responsible for her brother’s death. Although Daene was a thief and murderer, she didn’t know him to be a liar. Her heart lurched at the thought of never seeing him a.
“Why are we going in circles?” Kripken bellowed at one of his servants. The servant seemed to shrink on his horse but didn’t answer. It was the wisest choice. Kripken got off his horse and looked around at the all-too-familiar terrain. “Something is wrong,” he said to himself, then turned to the horse. He came up to one of them and looked the horse in the eye. He swore to himself. “The creatures are cursed.”
Kripken turned his sights on Lyra. “You. Have you spelled my creatures?” his lips curled in disgust as he came toward Lyra and his bride. “Are you a witch? Is that how you were able to do what none other has done in generations?” Kripken reached up and yanked her off the horse. With her hands tied behind her back, she almost landed on her knees.
“I’m no witch,” Lyra replied in a bored tone.
Kripken swung her around to face him. “I don’t suffer witches.”
“I didn’t ask to be here.” She retorted. Kripken struck her across the face. It smarted, but it would never make her bow down to him. “But I would be happy to leave.” She finished by spitting out the blood that formed in her mouth at his feet.
He looked at her as if he were ready to strike her again, but a smile lit up his handsome face. It did nothing for her libido. He looked like a Barra snake as far as she was concerned. “I have been wasting my time on women who cater to me. They give me no challenge. I look forward to breaking you.” His gaze raked her body. “In more ways than you can imagine. There will be no place I don’t stake my claim on you.”
“Leave the horses, we’ll go on foot.” He dragged his bride off the horse and the servant followed. “We’ll get fresh horses in town. I’ll send for these.” Kripken walked ahead. His servants brought up the rear. Lyra breathed a sigh of relief. This might make getting away a little easier.
* * * *
Not one opportunity for escape presented itself. Lyra sighed in aggravation. After they reached a small settlement, Kripken had paid for some rather old, used-looking horses for the last leg of the journey. The man didn’t look too happy with the price Kripken insisted on paying. He had run the animals at top speed mercilessly. The horses were sturdier than they looked, because even now, the animals approached the lair of Kripken, a mere hour after leaving the small establishment.
A large gate opened. Two well-armed guards saluted Kripken as they entered. Kripken entered as if he were some sort of king. Lyra snorted to herself at that thought. In moments, she was dragged off the horse and shoved inside the large compound. He yelled for his maids, who scurried in fright to do his bidding. He pushed his bride at one of them and told her to have her cleaned and fitted for a proper marriage ceremony. He ordered servants be sent to retrieve the horses that he’d had to leave behind. He pushed Lyra into the hands of a plump, older servant. “Bathe her in my favorite scents. Have her ready for me in my bed.”
“I’m not your property, Kripken,” Lyra huffed. “I am a Lady Prince and—”
Kripken struck her again, causing her to see colors. “You will not address yourself with that title ever again or I will kill you, understand?” He pushed his face close to hers, and Lyra found herself staring into the angry red eyes of a Draegonii. Her face still stung from the blow. The servant blanched as she took Lyra by the arm.
But Lyra never answered him, and she would not. She did not fight for her life to have it taken away. She would kill Kripken before he broke her. The servant led her up a maze of stairs and hallways. They entered the bathing room, and the maid indicated Lyra should sit on the stool while she drew her a bath.
“My lady” the servant began as she was adding the oils, “don’t provoke the Draegonii master. He-he does not hesitate to kill anyone.”
“He is not my master. I will die before I have a master. I am a Lady Prince and I will die a Lady Prince,” Lyra said roughly.
The servant clucked disapprovingly. “It is better to live another day, than die for pride.”
Lyra looked at the woman as if she had gone insane. “You think it for pride that I die?” Lyra shook her head. “I die because it is my right to die as I wish. I am not property. I am a person, a woman. I should choose who I lay with. I do not choose him. I will never choose him,” Lyra said with distaste.
The servant looked at her with knowing eyes. “You are in love with another.” A small smile played at the servant’s lips. “It is a blessing indeed to be in love.”
Lyra swallowed. It didn’t matter if she wanted to be with another. He was dead. He was the one she’d wanted to give her body to. She would never know Daene’s touch as a woman. How Daene could have had such an effect on her in so little time was beyond her. “It does not matter,” Lyra declared, “I do not choose this Draegonii Master. He will die, or I will die. But he will never own me,” Lyra vowed as a tear slipped from her eye. It was a fine time to realize there was only one Draegonii that she wanted.
Lyra stayed in the tub as long as she could. Even when the water turned cold and her teeth chattered, she tried to stay in the water. The servant, who introduced herself as Sani, began emptying the bath water until Lyra had no choice but to get out. Lyra bit her lips as the servant began rubbing scented oils into her skin. “These are the Master’s favorites,” the maid confided. Lyra harrumphed in response.
Sani then gave Lyra a beautiful gown that on any other night for any other occasion its beauty would have stunned her. Lyra let Sani dress her while she tried to figure out how to get her knife. She’d insisted on undressing alone, stashing the knife in the bathing room. Now she needed to get back in there to retrieve the knife. She frowned looking at the big bed, which given the circumstances was a portent of doom.
Sani began putting away Kripken’s freshly polished riding boots. Her ample backside was halfway out of the small storage room as she neatly set the boots inside. Lyra thought it odd to have such a thing in a master bedroom. Usually boots and things of that nature were stored elsewhere for the servants to retrieve.
“Sani,” Lyra said sweetly, “do you mind giving me a
moment alone?” Lyra lowered her eyes sadly, trying to act dejected but accepting of her fate. Sani stood up and waddled over to Lyra.
“Of course.” Sani patted her short, perfumed hair. “But only for a moment. I’ll be back to see if I can do something with that hair.”
Sani bustled out the door, and Lyra rolled her eyes as she hurried to the bathing room. She barely strapped the knife to her calf when she heard the door opening. “Sani, really that’s not much time.” She called out frantically. “I’m not ready yet.” She had just stood letting the long gown flow to her ankles when the footsteps stopped in the doorway. Lyra turned around to see Kripken’s gaze transfixed on her as if he were mesmerized. There was no missing the bulge in his pants.
“I’m afraid you’ve run out of time, sweetling,” he announced as he stood there. He was clean and his hair was freshly woven into a braid. He had on expensive lounging pants that looked to be made of Siamin silk. “I am more than ready.” Then he reached for her, grabbed her by the arm, and yanked her into the bedroom.
Lyra pulled back, fighting. He laughed at her antics, merely taking both of her wrists and yanking her farther into the room. When he got to the bed, he stopped and stepped to her, crushing his mouth to hers. Lyra clamped her mouth shut as he tried to kiss her, refusing to let him taste her. “Don’t worry. I have other things to shove into that mouth of yours,” he said irritated and shoved her onto the bed.
Lyra scooted as fast she could across the bed, but his hand clasped around her ankle, stopping her progress. Lyra kicked at him, feeling her foot connecting to something solid. He grunted, and Lyra found her ankle free. She made it to the other side of the bed and took a deep breath. At least she had something between them now.
The Lady Prince (Siren Publishing Classic) Page 7