Devoured Innocence

by Michelle Marquis

  Kharon’s voice was laced in dark amusement but she knew these were truths he had considered. His argument had merit but she didn’t agree completely.

  “My mother is soft and feminine and I still connected with her. Besides, my little sister.”

  “I would never presume to call your mother soft and as for your little sister, she may be the fiercest Theron of all," he countered.

  Now Kharon had not only irritated her, but she was incredibly attracted to him and needed this discussion to end. “So where does that leave our future together?”

  He sighed and appeared to subdue his desire to always be right.

  “You know I would welcome a child if one should be conceived between us. Children, in and of themselves, never solidify a relationship; in fact they are more likely to tear one apart. Look at your own father and see what misery most of his children have brought into his life. Except for your mother, have any of his women stayed with him because they had borne him children? Your father is truly graced that Harlan loves him as much as she does. His redemption was generations in the making. We speak ill of Titan, but does anyone know about his rearing? Granted, much of what happened with Gavin and his children was by his own hand but it is not an uncommon cycle. When a father has celebrated so many successes how can any son compete with them? And now we have you. How could any male child find his own path when he must live under his mother’s triumphs? Maybe adoption is the answer for us if the time ever comes to have children.”

  Gypsy squeezed Kharon’s hand. He was right. Children didn’t come made to order. Trying to raise a child like her father was a sobering thought. Although a lot of Gavin’s personality had come from growing up in a whorehouse, his ferocity was what helped him survive and thrive.

  “What about your children? I’ve heard you tell a few stories, but I guess I was always too insecure to ask you about them,” she said pushing some dirt around with the toe of her boot.

  Kharon looked up at the stars thoughtfully. “All of my children have reached adulthood, save one who died shortly after birth from illness. Most of my daughters married, some were satisfied to be consorts of powerful men. The last child I sired was around seventy years ago.”

  “And your sons? How have they fared?”

  He shrugged as though there was no story to tell. “A few pursued careers in the military, many were smart enough to enter a trade or start a business. Most of them still live on AEssyria, though a few left the planet for some more fertile opportunities.”

  Why is he so obtuse? “You pointed out that all males compete with their fathers. What about your sons who joined the military? How have they coped with such a celebrated father?”

  Kharon twisted a lock of her hair around his index finger. “I simply encouraged them to seek careers in other kingdoms. That way they wouldn’t have to fight me to gain rank or live in the shadow of my success. They could make their own way. It’s not so different from your brother Northe. He, too, had to leave the empire before he could advance to the rank of general.”

  “Well, that’s not exactly the only reason he left,” she muttered.

  “Trust me, everyone knows why Northe left. There are few personal secrets in the military. Even if none of the unseemly details had occurred, Northe still would’ve had to leave. Gavin’s biggest folly was trying to hold onto him.”

  Gypsy reflected on all this as the forest grew quiet, except for the clicking and chirping of insects. If Gavin had made Northe leave, maybe he would have had his own life and the two wars between father and son would’ve never happened

  Gods, how she missed her father.

  She thought about her childhood with her father and had to admit, she had some good memories. When Gavin was stuck watching her he didn’t bother to diminish his nefarious activities. He drank, whored, gambled and often left her in the company of a trusted officer or enlisted man. During those times she was schooled in the art of playing cards, picking locks, cleaning weapons, and a myriad of other useful things. I still can’t believe I was never molested.

  To maintain the family peace she and her father had a deal. She kept her mouth shut and corroborated whatever implausible story he made up to her mother about their time together. In return, he took her hunting with him twice a week. Those were some of her happiest memories, just her and Gavin alone together hunting.

  But Gavin had changed since all her arena success. Sometimes she feared what his expectations for Missy were. Will Gavin expect her to be a warrior like me or has he had his fill and plans to arrange a marriage for her? Is Missy really the fiercest of us all, like Kharon thinks? Can she withstand Gavin’s iron will like I did? Missy was different, that was for sure. She made an impression on everyone who met her. But Gavin was essentially the same misogynist bastard he’d ever been. No matter how many years Gypsy studied him, he remained a mystery to her. She never knew just what he’d do in any given situation.

  Not realizing how long she had been immersed in her silent contemplation, she felt Kharon slip back into her thoughts. She wanted to be mad at him for interrupting her solitude, but really she was relieved. Dark fears of the future were entering her mind but at this point she chose to ignore them. Why solve a problem that doesn’t exist?

  Kharon kissed the back of her neck sending delightful chills down her spine. The Primal Fever was building, tormenting her with its constant, nagging need. She was just about to ask Kharon to go away so the symptoms would lessen when they heard someone come up behind them.

  They both reached for their weapons but it was only Desmond. He had done a perimeter walk before joining them. Wow, he’s good. Neither of us even noticed him exit the building. Desmond was the only man who was as much of a mystery to her as her father. His long, dark blond hair hung down his back in tangled locks, with a few shorter ones covering his eyes. Moving with the heavy power of a weathered soldier, he was all strength edged with cold, lethal ability. His dusty black tunic was half unbuttoned and his pants and boots were caked in dirt. He dragged a chair from the outpost and sat just outside the front door. Looking comfortable he stretched out his legs out and crossed crossing his ankles. “I’m relieving you both. Get lost.”

  Kharon stood up and turned away, but Gypsy hesitated, worried for her brother. Though less tense, he still looked very tired. “Are you sure? I can stand watch for a few more hours.”

  He waved his hand like she was an annoying bug. “It’s okay. Go, I can’t sleep anyway.”

  The corners of his mouth lifted in a salacious grin. "Besides, you two look like a pair of starving raptors near a kill. I’m betting you need some time alone together.”

  Gypsy fumbled for a response. But before she could open her mouth, Kharon took her hand and led her away.

  Following him down a small game trail illuminated only by moonlight, they emerged onto the grassy bank of a small lake. They stood side-by-side for a few moments, staring out at the celestial reflections on the water. Gripping her shoulders, he turned her to face him. The raging desire in his mismatched eyes ignited a passion that roared through her. The Primal Fever was exploding within her and Gypsy knew there would be no sleep for either of them tonight.

  * * * *

  Sometimes it was hard for Kharon to remember how very young Gypsy was. In so many ways, his wife seemed older than her years, but when it came to love and relationships, she was very much a young woman. It was at these times, when she was so vulnerable to him that he cherished her most. Secretly he knew bending her to his sexual will was an aphrodisiac for both of them. For him, it allowed him to delve into the most private recesses of her soul and for her it allowed her to let down her guard if only for a short time. He took her face in his hands and stared down into her eyes. Never before had he loved a woman with such purity of heart.

  Gypsy slipped her arms around him and rested her cheek on his breast plate. His mind flooded with the nectar of her tender emotions. It was then that he opened his heart fully to her so she could see the dep
th of his love and devotion. Her scent, always earthy and floral, ripened into perfumed seduction. The animal side was awakening. There was a delicate pheromone emitted from her that signaled her readiness to mate. Then the Fever bled into their affectionate exchange. In the next moment, Gypsy was impatiently clawing at the straps of his scaled chest plate. She undid them and with fast, nimble fingers, removed and dropped the chest plate to the ground. It fell with a heavy thud. Her frenzied need both excited and frustrated Kharon. Before he could respond, she was kissing him with wild, savage kisses and stripping off her own armor. He didn’t want this mating to happen in the crazed rush of a battlefield kill. This needed to be slow and savored by both. Kharon wanted it to be the seduction it was meant to be.

  Kharon broke off from her kisses and firmly pushed her back.

  Gypsy’s eyes were filled with confusion and fear of rejection. Her questioning voice filled his head. What’s wrong? Isn’t this what you want?”

  “No,” he said out loud. “Not like that. I want you like this.” Then he placed his large hand on the back of her head and manipulated her into a slow, teasing, drawn out kiss.

  Gypsy yielded at first but soon was trying to pressure him into moving faster. Kharon took an annoyed step back from her. “Why are you always so impatient to be relieved of our shared agony?”

  Gypsy tried to steal another kiss but when he prevented it she glared daggers at him. “Fuck this shit! I don’t need these games from you! What the hell do you want from me?”

  Kharon suppressed a wicked grin. He understood her need; he shared it. She didn’t yet understand this was mental foreplay. Kharon needed to be the one in control here. Besides, every minute that passed without him satisfying her, Gypsy’s mating scent grew stronger.

  “I don’t understand this.” Gypsy met his gaze with unflinching love and anger. His passion for her roared to a new height. She tried to kiss him once more but he held her back.

  “Open your mind to me. Let me see everything you’re feeling,” he said.

  She hesitated only a moment and then he was invading her thoughts. A wave of love and warmth overtook his mind. It was so powerful he had to close his eyes to take it all in. It was a fevered rush, a euphoric excitement he’d never experienced before and he delighted in it.

  Kharon opened his eyes again and smiled. “I love that.” He kissed her lips once. “Now it’s your turn. Come into me.”

  Kharon could feel her probe his mind, tentative, unsure. A surge of frustration came over him. How she must hate not being in control. “Don’t do that, come on. Fill my mind. Don’t be so guarded,” he commanded.

  “I’m open to you, Kharon,” she protested. There was a knife edge to her tone he found intensely amusing.

  “No, you’re not. Try again.”

  Gypsy’s cheeks paled as though she was under intense torture. He could feel her willing herself to let go and lower her guard. Finally, she pushed into his thoughts and he freed his emotions. They washed over her in a hot wave, stifling and stopping her advance. Scenery flowed; images of his hunt for Caraculla, trails, forests, even others he had met and shared meals with along the way.

  Gypsy gasped and her knees buckled. Kharon caught her before she could fall. “Wait,” she pleaded breathless. “Stop for just a minute…please.”

  Kharon pulled back and waited. He tried not to let his simmering anger show, but she knew. She always knew when he was losing his temper. It was an unfortunately by-product of his building, feral lust.

  Gypsy shook her head in an attempt to clear it. “I’m sorry.”

  His nostrils flared and took in all the fragrances around him, especially hers. “Don’t be.”

  Her beautiful golden eyes searched his. He could feel how insecure she was. “You’re different than before. You left me to hunt down Caraculla,” she said. “I don’t know if I can trust you again. I’m not sure if I’m ready for all of this at once.”

  Kharon firmly grabbed her jaw and wrapped his other arm around her waist. “You always want to control what can’t be held. Don’t you see how the Primal Fever draws us closer together? I want this, we need it. Let me in, Gypsy.”

  He knew she didn’t want to, but her mental defenses fell. Once that happened, he was drawn into her, only this time their communion was far more devouring. Kharon’s lust roared to a feverish inferno. It became an opiate of dueling desires and maniacal greed. Gypsy was his, all his, even when she tried to resist his control over her. Her body twitched in response to his mental invasion as she trembled in his embrace.

  Gypsy’s lips locked onto his in a desperate, searing kiss. Kharon growled into her kiss and moved his calloused hands up and down her body. He could feel her body heat rising under her cotton tunic. Their emotions and desire swirled in a potent mix, intoxicating them both. He couldn’t have been more grateful to Desmond for giving them this time. Kharon peeled her tunic off and tossed it on the growing pile of discarded clothing. Then he savored the landscape of her skin, licking and kissing her heavy breasts, pausing only to delicately nibble on her erect nipples. Gypsy cradled his head and gasped, leaning her long, elegant neck back in rapture.

  His cock was painfully hard now and his balls swollen and ready for their first release. It throbbed to the beat of his heart and pushed against the confines of his pants. Gypsy, lost in a haze of her own passion, kissed down his chest to the border of his pants. In that split second the tables were turned and she took control by releasing his cock to the cool evening air. Kharon rumbled out a moan. He tried to pull her back up to enter her but she resisted and he had no will to force the issue. Smiling, she took his cock into her hands and teasingly massaged the shaft. The pressure was building in his balls to the point that all he could think about was his climax.

  His beautiful wife kissed and licked his testicles until they were almost numb from pressure. But before she could stroke and lick him to climax, he roughly pulled her up. Kharon’s instinct took over and destroyed all intelligent thought. Suddenly there was a vacuum in the connection they shared. As if in slow motion, he watched Gypsy pull off her pants and panties. Her scent overwhelmed him as she enticed him by bending over a nearby bolder.

  Kharon dipped his tongue into her sweet pussy and tasted her cream. She made a soft, tender moan, inflaming his senses. He responded by snaking his tongue deep into her weeping core. He flickered it against her moist walls and felt her contract around him. Then he nestled behind her, reaching around her hips to touch her labia. The head of his cock parted the plump lips, and he rubbed and massaged her pussy until he was confident he would glide all the way in easily.

  Kharon worked his cock in and out, gaining a few more inches of penetration with every determined stroke. Once he was deep within her, he relaxed a little and allowed himself to ejaculate. The semen stimulated her uterus and caused her a rapturous orgasm which she indicated with a series of soft, delighted moans. His thrusts were slow at first sending wave upon wave of delight up his shaft and into his balls. The pleasure was heightened by the music of Gypsy whispering obscenities between her gasps and sighs. Rotating his hips in a slow, grinding circle, he savored the squeeze of her slick muscles. She reached down to tickle her clit but he pulled her hand away and removed his cock.

  Gypsy whined at the loss. She grappled with him for a second, desperate to be filled once again but he grabbed her wrists, pulling her up slowly. He turned her to face him, then he reached around behind her and placed his hands on her buttocks to lift her onto his rod. He slid right into her, only this time the ridges along the shaft of his cock were tight against her clit. Gypsy, driven to madness by the Fever, latched onto him by wrapping her arms and legs around him. Kharon closed his eyes and held her close to his chest as their hearts fell into rhythm with each other.

  Kharon rammed his cock into her with punishing thrusts. Impaled upon his member, Gypsy let out soft, desperate moans. The hair around her temples was wet with sweat and clung to her forehead and cheeks. Her stunning gol
den eyes locked with his and he was lost in his consuming love for her.

  He grabbed a handful of her hair to hold her head still and mauled her with kisses along her cheek and neck. His thrusts grew harder and faster, to the point he feared he might hurt her. But Gypsy seemed unfazed. Kharon nuzzled her ear. “I love you, Gypsy,” he said in a voice so deep he barely recognized it as his own. “I’m so sorry I hurt you.”

  Gypsy responded by stiffening as her pussy milked the hot seed from his cock in his third orgasm. He didn’t know how many she’d had but it was probably more than he’d managed. He lifted her off his cock and laid her on the grass. Then he laid down next to her and listened to her pant. His cock softened but he could feel the pressure in his balls and knew he’d be ready again soon.

  When she had caught her breath, Gypsy interlaced her fingers with his. “I love you too.”

  “Am I forgiven for hurting you?”

  She turned her head, looked at him and smile. “Yeah, sure.” And then she was caressing his chest and awakening him all over again.

  “Is that just the Fever talking?” he asked.

  Gypsy laughed. “Maybe. I’ll let you know when the Fever subsides. Until then, you’d better get back to work.”

  Kharon pulled her against him and did just that.

  Chapter 3

  The muscles in Desmond’s neck felt like they had been twisted into a knot for hours. The tension was giving him a dull headache that sadly, he was not unaccustomed to. Remembering Scarlet’s wound was healing and her overall health improving took away some of the ache. Almost back to her old self. His wife was sitting up, giving orders to Krull, and anyone else who got too close. He thanked the gods for this reprieve for only he knew how close he’d come to cracking.