The Rose of Shanhasson

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by Joely Sue Burkhart


  She gave the bead to Rhaekhar, her cheeks heating all over again as she watched him slide the bead onto the leather and tie it in his hair. Every time she looked at that damned thing, she’d remember. “How long do these… tallies… continue?”

  “Until we’re mated,” Rhaekhar replied. “Then I’ll remove all white kae’als not yours and give them back to Kae’Shaman. All that are yours I shall treasure forever, but I shall only wear the ones from our claiming from then on.”

  “Claiming? You mean wedding?” At his nod, she thought through the ramifications. The barbarians actually kept a count of how many…

  “Aye.” Gregar laughed, slapping Rhaekhar on the back. “I expect Khul to set a new record.”

  Her ears roared and spots danced before her eyes. Her head was stuffed with cotton. She had thought the Green Land custom of royal beddings distasteful. “Record?”

  “The current record without drakkar is only three, is it not?”

  Her head started to pound. She had no idea what drakkar was, and it sounded like she didn’t want to know.

  Gregar smiled brightly. “You had best push her head back down Khul.”

  Indeed, the spots spread, darkening her vision.

  Rhaekhar scooped her against his chest and stood. “Or better yet, we shall simply retire to my tent.”

  “Aye, Khul, you should get a good start on filling the new thong.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Shannari didn’t bother looking around the tent. All her curiosity was centered on the barbarian. At last, they were alone, they had some semblance of walls and privacy, and she was going to have her way with him.

  Pushing against his chest, she rolled him over. He went willingly enough. Flat on his back, he stared up at her, golden eyes blazing like the sun, blood drying from a dozen small wounds, sweat and blood and lust overwhelming his normal sweet hay and baking bread scent. Delicious.

  “This is supposed to be your night, na’lanna.”

  “It is.” She shrugged out of the vest, enjoying the way his eyes darkened to honeyed ale. Her fingers felt clumsy and desperate enough she couldn’t seem to get the knot undone which held the cloth about her hips. “You said any other night you would let me do as I wish. Tonight is my night.”

  Drawing her closer, he tugged on the knot and tossed the offending material aside. “As you wish. Remember to be as noisy as possible, though, na’lanna. The noisier the better.”

  She felt her cheeks blazing with embarrassment all over again. Counting. Listening. Watching. A sound very close to panic escaped her throat.

  “Shhh, na’lanna. Don’t think.”

  She closed her eyes a moment, took a deep breath. If she could lead warriors in battle, surely she could make love with someone listening. She just wouldn’t think about it.

  Lady, she’d never seen a man better put together. All warrior, muscle and strength imprinted on every inch of him. His skin was velvety soft with very little hair even on his legs and arms, crisscrossed with so many scars. So much honor.

  “I taste even better.”

  Shivering, she closed her eyes, waiting for the vicious clenching deep inside to ease. She might not last long enough to torment him as she hoped.

  “There are other nights, na’lanna. Many nights.”

  “Quit finishing my thoughts for me.”

  He laughed roughly and trailed his fingers across her thigh. “I cannot help it. You must hear me even better. Are you going to look at me all night?”

  “How much latitude will you give me?”

  Frowning, he started to sit up, but she pressed her hand in the center of his chest to keep him down. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, if I say don’t touch me, will you heed my… ” She almost said command and thought better of it. “Wish?”

  His eyes narrowed despite the alternative word choice. “Why would you not want me to touch you?”

  Leaning down, she brushed her mouth over his, softening his frown until she could draw his bottom lip into her mouth. A few nibbles, and his hands were closing on her head and command vibrated through his powerful body once more.

  He was a supreme warrior, an arrogant barbarian, a fearless leader of men used to giving commands to everyone. Even in a kiss, he could not help but give commands. Even in the throes of passion, he never fully released his control on his emotions.

  “I cannot.”

  “Why?” She trailed her mouth down his neck, licking and nibbling as she went. Nothing too hard. Yet. “I want you a little wild and crazy.”

  “Wild and crazy could hurt you. There is no greater wrong a warrior can commit than injuring a woman in his care.”

  She snorted loudly and deliberately bit his neck just a bit harder. “You wouldn’t hurt me even when I sliced you open with my sword.”

  “This is different, na’lanna.” Already, his voice was thick with rising need. “Only a warrior in bloodlust would ever completely relinquish control.”

  “Bloodlust.” She found the wound on his shoulder and carefully licked it clean. “Sounds good to me.”

  Groaning, he clenched his hands into fists. “You have no idea of what you speak. A warrior in bloodlust is more likely to rape than to love. Nobody is safe from him, especially his woman.”

  “That’s exactly what I want.” Swinging a leg over him, she made herself very comfortable on his lower abdomen. “I want to kiss and nibble every inch of you, but I don’t want you to touch me. I don’t want you to roll me beneath you and end it until I’m ready. And when you do, I want you to relinquish your control.”

  Another rumble escaped his throat. “So you want me to use control to avoid touching you while you torment me, only to lose control utterly when you say?”

  She smiled wickedly. “Exactly.”

  Closing his eyes, he muttered, “Gregar must be laughing his arse off.”

  She didn’t want to think of the dark Blood laughing. She didn’t even want to think too much about the gorgeous barbarian beneath her. Already she trusted him too much. She enjoyed his body too much. She exposed too many of her secret thoughts and longings, things she’d never dared tell another, let alone a lover.

  The clenching this time was of pain, and centered about her heart.

  “Aye, I shall do as you wish,” Rhaekhar answered. “I shall not touch you until you give me permission.”

  To prove his point, he very firmly planted his arms at his sides, palms flat on the tent floor.

  With narrowed gaze, she searched his face to find the reason for his solemn satisfaction. He was reluctant, yes, but also oddly pleased. “I’m going to take my time.”

  He trembled beneath her but nodded.

  “I want to taste your blood some more. It might hurt.”

  “I trust you not to hurt me too much.”

  Scooting a bit lower, she laid her head against his chest. His heart thumped strong and steady beneath her ear. “Why the sudden agreement?”

  “Do you really want to talk about whys and wherefores when you could be loving my body?”

  The barbarian had a point.

  “Besides, if you truly wanted to know my motivations, you could listen through the bond. As much of my blood as you’ve taken, you should be able to hear my every thought, if that is your desire.”

  It wasn’t, obviously. Involuntarily, she tensed. Had she truly heard him speaking in her head earlier at the fire?

  :Aye.:

  Gritting her teeth, she concentrated very, very hard on not listening to him.

  Sighing, he spoke out loud. “I make one request.”

  She lifted her head, staring down into his rugged face.

  “I want you to mark me.”

  Heat rose in her at the thought. Her secret desire, her shame.

  “I marked you, remember? And you know how it feels each time I touch it. When I put my mouth upon it. Don’t you want the same power over me?”

  Closing her eyes, she nodded jerkily. She wanted it, definitely
. So much it scared her. She wanted to sink her teeth into his shoulder or neck, feel him shaking helplessly beneath her, while she branded him. As hers.

  It wouldn’t be fair to mark him and then leave him. She wasn’t cruel, not usually, but the thought of another woman with him, touching her mark, her barbarian…

  Chuckling, he arched beneath her suggestively. “You are welcome to try leaving me, na’lanna. You won’t get very far.”

  “Why is that?”

  Golden eyes flashed at her fiercely and he smiled, a deliberate gleam of teeth and dominance. “Even if I didn’t have the bond to track you down, I would never surrender what was mine. Never. You are mine, na’lanna. Best you remember that. Now get to tormenting me already.”

  * * * *

  His last words were almost enough to change her mind. He saw the hesitation, the narrowing of her eyes, the stubborn lift of her chin. He knew very well what she was thinking.

  She planned to leave him. Hells, she had never intended to come so far. She certainly feared the slight softening of her heart. The weakness. The need.

  Need he would use against her.

  Deliberately, he breathed deeply, letting heat blaze in his eyes. Great Vulkar, she smelled wonderful, all lush heat and sultry nights. He licked his lips and she shuddered, a soft cry shaking through her.

  To distract herself more than torment him, she returned to kissing his chest. She found another wound from the kae’rahke and it was all he could do to keep his hands at his side instead of burying them in her hair and holding her close. His blood roared through her, spreading fire he could feel through the bond. Every lick, every taste, bound her tighter to him. Didn’t she sense it? Nay, she must not. She would never willingly make herself defenseless in their battle.

  Yet her denials still worried him. If she could refuse the whisper of his thoughts in her mind, the touch of his heart against hers, then what chance did he have to force her to examine her own?

  Teeth grazed his skin, her tongue probing the cut carefully, and he gritted his teeth. Oh, aye, the Blood was definitely laughing at this intolerable torment.

  “I want you.”

  Her whisper shattered his heart. A small weakness admitted. “Then take me, my heart.”

  “I don’t want to want you,” she growled, sitting up. Scooting lower, she lifted herself over him and took him inside. They both groaned out loud.

  Agony, to lie here, waiting, refusing to respond to his urge to drive her to pleasure.

  “I don’t want to need you.”

  “I know.”

  She wouldn’t allow him to touch her, so he stared up at her, drinking in the glowing flush on her cheeks, the blazing need darkening her gorgeous night-sky eyes. What an incredibly lovely sight to see his woman taking her pleasure in his body, her breasts full and sweetly curved, so close, but so far away.

  Her hair fell about her shoulders like a black cape. The thought of his kae’valda wrapped around her made him throw his head back, arching his hips beneath her. “I need you just as much.”

  She gave a little twist of her hips, grinding against him, and he felt the dam break inside her. Crying out, she rose up and slammed down again, her sheath gripping him in a vise. When she finally fell back against his chest, he was drenched in sweat and breathing like a na’kindre rode hard and fast.

  She burrowed her face into his neck. “Want. Need. What are you doing to me?”

  “I’m loving you.”

  “I don’t want you to love me. I’ll only hurt you. I’ll never love you. Don’t you understand?”

  “Aye.” He understood things she refused to consider. Secrets of her heart she refused to examine. “I love you anyway. You forgot something, na’lanna.”

  Pushing up to her elbows, she glared down at him. “Why are you doing this?”

  “This?” He moved beneath her, still unbearably hard and aching inside her. Her eyes rolled back in her head and he chuckled. “You were supposed to mark me. And while you’re at it, I need a few more screams of pleasure.”

  “I’ll show you screams of pleasure,” she muttered. “Do you get beads for your own screams?”

  She sank her teeth into the base of his neck, and his answer was lost entirely. Deeper, harder, her jaws gripping his throat until she tasted blood. Quivering, she came again, and with a roaring shout, he found release, too.

  And he never put his hands on her.

  Breathing hard, she sat up and wiped at her mouth. Her hand trembled, and she stared at her bite on his neck. Shaken. Scared. Solemn. Whispering so low he could barely hear her, she asked, “Does it hurt?”

  “Nay, my heart. It feels incredible. Touch it.”

  She slowly reached out and traced her finger around the ring her teeth had left in his skin. Throwing his head back again, every muscle in his body clenched. Need came roaring back to life in him and he hardened inside her.

  She shuddered, gulping for air.

  “Are you finished?”

  She nodded shakily. “I reserve the right to continue later, though.”

  “Agreed.” He rolled her beneath him. “In due time.”

  He kissed her softly, nibbling, drawing her bottom lip into his mouth to suck on it. He took his time, exploring the dark recesses of her mouth, stroking his tongue along the roof of her mouth, her teeth. A hint of his blood flavored her tongue, and a fierce satisfaction roared through him.

  Shannari didn’t quite know how to handle this tender exploration. Her hands froze on his back, and she felt stiff beneath him. She didn’t accept the invitation of his open mouth for equal treatment.

  Drawing back, he studied her face. Eyes stunned, wide open, her lips parted and trembling. Vulnerable, naked need gleamed in her jeweled eyes like tears. She squeezed her eyes shut and firmed her lips, hiding, but she couldn’t hide her heart from him.

  He didn’t push the advantage. Instead, he gathered her against his chest and simply held her. Bit by bit, she relaxed into his embrace, even playing her fingers up and down his spine.

  “Is hugging all you want to do with me?”

  “It’s enough, for now. I could hold you endlessly, na’lanna. I treasure the beat of your heart against mine.”

  She fell silent, some of her uncertainty and anxiety coming back. She simply didn’t know how to handle tenderness from him. Arrogance and dominance she knew. Tenderness left her bewildered and scared.

  Deliberately, he used their bond to stroke his thoughts through her mind, another intimacy she couldn’t refuse. :What are you afraid of?:

  She tensed even more beneath him. “I’m not afraid.”

  Closing his eyes, he sank deeper into her, both body and mind. In his mind’s eye, she glowed with pearly moonlight, shadowed here and there by old hurts and doubts. He wrapped his bond, his love, about her, trying to drive those shadows away.

  “Hurts,” she gasped.

  Pain did arc through her, not physical but remembered. Over and over, people she trusted had wounded her. Blades sinking into her flesh, crippling her heart. The wounds were real, as the scar on her chest indicated, but they went much deeper. How could he possibly heal these old injuries?

  He knew no such magic. There was no enemy for him to defeat. No sword, no rahke he possessed could defeat the old wounds still haunting her. For all his strength and honor as Khul of the Nine Camps of the Sha’Kae al’Dan, he could not fight this kae’don for her.

  She really would choose to leave him. If he allowed it.

  “Nay,” he growled. Plunging hard, he thrust as deeply as he could go, drawing a ragged cry from her. She clawed at his back, tilting her hips to take him even deeper, and he lost all control.

  Savage, dark need filled him, pouring over into her. Or perhaps the darkness was hers and she shared it with him. He’d certainly never known such agonizing, mindless need before.

  She screamed, and he felt her pleasure slam into his gut and clench inside him like a fist. Jerking back to his knees, he withdrew and flipped
her over. He’d dreamed of taking her this way. Covering her like a wild stallion, forcing her into submission, teeth in her neck, pounding into her hard and fast.

  She pushed backwards to meet him, but he wrapped an arm around her hips to lock her in place. Pressing heavily against her back, he pinned her beneath him. He leaned down to breathe in her ear. “You’ll take what I give.”

  Arching her back, she tried to buck him off, to at least regain some control, but she was no match for his size and strength. Frustration boiled through the bond and she jerked her head back, trying to catch him in the face. “You can play dominant herd stallion all you want, but you can’t make me love you.”

  Her accusation slapped him in the face, dowsing the furious need entirely. Recoiling, he almost withdrew completely. At least some of his control returned. “Do you refuse me, then? After the love we have shared this night?”

  He waited for her answer, not moving a muscle. Sweat inched down his face, burning his eye, to drip onto her gleaming skin. Very deliberately, he kept his thoughts and emotions under tight control. She didn’t want to know his heart. She didn’t want the intrusion, the intimacy, the connection of spirit to spirit.

  “No,” she whispered. “I won’t refuse you. But we have not shared love.”

  Relief filled him but couldn’t entirely erase the fury and desperation in his heart. This was a kae’don he could not win. But I must. I must. “I have. I do. Every time I touch you, I make love to you.”

  Instead of arguing, she sank her teeth into his forearm braced beside her head.

  A spasm raced down his back, blazing flames rushing through him like wildfire. Still, he hesitated. He didn’t want her to claim later that she hadn’t been fully willing, or that he was too aggressive, too… barbaric.

  :Make me forget that I have no heart.:

  The touch of her mind was faint, faraway, yet oh so precious. Her words made little difference to him, but the bond, and her use of it, meant the world. Perhaps he could make her forget her scarred heart, the fear, the betrayal. :My heart is yours, na’lanna.:

 

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