With a lift of his hand, he motioned her forward. The woman smiled, coming closer to him. Without hesitation, Kirill asked, "You haven't been with the late King?"
"No, my lord," the woman answered meekly.
Kirill nodded, pleased with her sultry voice. She would do well to fulfill his body's needs. "You wish to be with me in my bed?"
"Yes, my King." There was no hesitation in her answer. Her lips stayed parted and she shot him a look of pure invitation.
"Very well. The rest may go," Kirill said.
The women bowed, their disappointment evident. It was a great honor to be chosen as the King's lover and if a woman could please him enough to be made a mistress, well that position was almost as grand as being a wife. However, all knew that the Var Kings did not usually share their power with a Queen.
"Your name?" Kirill asked of the woman.
"Linzi, my lord," she murmured. Her eyes dipped boldly over his form.
Kirill saw her attraction to him, an attraction she didn't try to hide. Instantly, another set of eyes flashed in his mind--eyes of entrancing dark blue. He scanned the hall, looking for red-blonde hair, hair that would stand out in a crowd. His body lurched, wanting Ulyssa. Her scent was still in his head. Remembering the sound of her voice drummed fire into his veins. Her allure to him was potent, more potent than any other had been.
"My lord?" Linzi asked, looking over her shoulder at the crowd to see what he stared at.
Kirill's attention focused once more at the sound of her voice. He sighed, hiding his disappointment in not seeing Ulyssa. She was probably long gone by now. It was just as well. He didn't need the kind of distraction a woman could become, especially right now as he fitted himself in the role of a King.
Slowly, he stood from the throne chair that commanded the hall. The milling crowd parted to let him through, eyes turned to him in respect. The exotic dancers spun out of his way and bowed low as he moved passed. Linzi followed meekly behind him without having to be commanded.
Once they were out of the hall, Kirill turned and gave the woman a smile. He held out his arm for her to take. She did without hesitation. There was no shyness in her as she looked at him. She knew well what he wanted from her. There was no modesty in sexual things for the Var. Sex was as natural as breathing. Although Linzi was not Var by blood, she, like so many others, had adopted the Var ways as her own.
Gently, the King said, "Come, Linzi. Let us go to bed."
* * * *
Ulyssa's nostrils flared in anger as she struggled against her bonds. That oaf Falke had tied her to Kirill's bed like some sort of coronation present. Her wrists were bound over her head and her legs were loosely tied to the bottom posts, conveniently keeping them open. She'd actually been surprised when he didn't tie a big, red bow over her breasts. The nerves of these men, thinking they could just do as they please with a woman wherever and however they wanted!
Ulyssa wasn't sure what made her angrier--the fact that she was tied to the bed, or the fact that Falke made her put on a dress. She grimaced looking down at the skimpy ensemble. Barely two pieces of transparent material, the black and silver dress had a short front piece and a longer back piece, held together by side cross straps that ran over her naked hip and sides, finally to loop over one shoulder. With a pull of either strap, the dress would come completely off. Ulyssa knew it was probably the exact function the Var had in mind when they designed the awful thing.
Hearing a noise, Ulyssa froze. A door closed and a small sound came from the other side of the bedroom door. Tensing, she glared toward the sound, pulling hard at her restraints in a renewed effort to be free. There was a crash followed by a very feminine giggle. Suddenly, the bedroom door flew open. It was thrown open with a hard push, banging loudly as it hit the wall. The woman giggled again, a truly nauseating sound to Ulyssa.
Kirill's back was to her. A metal crown was on his dark head. Animalistic groans of pleasure came from him as he kissed the dark woman in his arms. Ulyssa watched in stunned, frustrated silence, as Kirill's hands run over his lover's body. His palms cupped her breasts, the thumb rubbing in slow circles over her nipple. The woman kept giggling, until it was all Ulyssa could hear in her numb brain and the sound annoyed the hell out of her.
A low sound grew in the back of Kirill's throat to answer the irritating laugh, bringing Ulyssa from her trance. The rumbling sent shivers over her spine. A heated, unreasonable jealousy lit like fire in her blood as she watched them together--especially since she'd nearly burned for him since their first meeting. Without thinking, she growled, "If you want to use the bed, then you best help me get off it first."
Where did that come from? Ulyssa was shocked by her outburst. She watched as Kirill stopped in mid-kiss. His firm lips drew back from the woman's and his hand fell from her breast to his side. He turned confused eyes to look at her. Ulyssa wiggled her fingers at him in greeting, drawing attention to her wrists above her head. She pressed her lips together, giving him a mockingly wry smile.
"You?" the stunned woman by his side began. Her wide eyes roamed over Ulyssa. Suddenly, she bowed low, "Forgive me, my lady. I did not seek an introduction. I am Linzi. I didn't know the King already had a first. I didn't know to seek your permission."
Kirill frowned and opened his mouth to speak. Linzi's words stopped him.
"I'm sorry for tempting you, my lord. I'll spend the required thirty days in exile from you. If you wish to have me then, you know where to find me." Linzi bowed and rushed from the room.
Kirill didn't even try to stop her from going. A rueful expression crossed his features and his heated gaze turned to the bed. Seeing her, a frown grew between his brown-black eyes. Ulyssa met his stare dead on. The challenge between them was once more renewed.
Chapter Four
"Cute little girlfriend you have there," Ulyssa said dryly, "nice and submissive. I'm curious, does she have to ask permission to get on her knees and give you a blow--"
"What are you doing here, Lyssa?" Kirill asked, crossing his arms. He had no qualms about checking out her bound form on his bed. Interest lit inside him, as he unabashedly studied her tantalizing position.
"Uh, in case you're blind, I really don't have a choice but to be here at the moment. Your barbarian of a brother, Falke, tied me here." Ulyssa again wiggled her fingers for dramatic effect, but his eyes weren't on her hands. She tried to draw her legs together, but it did no good. If he were to lean over just a little further, he'd see right up her skirt. Moisture pooled between her thighs, making her more than ready.
"And why would he have done that?" Kirill asked, coming to stand beside the bed. A slow, delicious smile curled his lips. A soft light shone from the closet, giving a pleasing dimness to his bedroom, casting their skin in a romantic softness that seemed out of place in their battle of the wills.
"I don't know," she lied. Her voice dipped and she couldn't stop herself from looking at him.
"Hum." Kirill studied her a moment longer before shrugging. "Suit yourself. I know my brother wouldn't have tied you there without cause. Until you're ready to speak the truth, I'll be forced to leave you where you're at."
Kirill made a move to leave. Ulyssa tensed.
"Fine!" she yelled after him as his hand touched the door. "I was trying to escape this damned palace--which I'm sure you're well aware is one giant maze. Some guard stopped me, then your brother showed up out of nowhere and...." Ulyssa sighed, rolling her eyes in her head. "And I might have told him you chose me to be your woman. Now untie me."
"You said what?" Kirill paled slightly. His eyes darted around to hers.
"Gawd! You don't have to look at me like that. Okay, so I'm not your type. You don't have to rub it in. I'm not a freaking leper!" Ulyssa glared at him. What in the hell was wrong with her for a lover? She was ever bit as attractive as that harlot she'd just chased out of the room with her presence. "Besides, you'd be lucky to sleep with a woman like me--if you could even handle it!"
"I didn't
choose you," Kirill said softly. A strange expression came to him. "Why would you say that?"
"Hello? Are you even hearing me? I said I was trying to escape. I thought it would get me a free hall pass." Ulyssa shrugged. "Now, I told you what happened. Untie me."
Kirill's lip curled slightly, but he ignored her otherwise. Slowly, he walked to the fireplace and stuck his steel crown on the mantel. Very thoughtfully, he ran a light finger over the metal edge before moving to smooth back the long length of his black hair.
"Don't you understand what it is you have done?" Kirill asked.
"No." Ulyssa watched him closely. He turned to her, his gaze dark and poignant. Whispering, she asked, "What?"
"You've declared yourself my mate," Kirill said. "My first half-mate to be exact. It gives you power in my home. All it would take is my declaration and you'd be my lifemate, my wife."
"What?!" Ulyssa nearly screamed as she began bucking anew. "I'll be no man's wife! Now you untie me this instant, you heathenish, savage ... jerk. What's your race's obsession with getting married anyway? Why don't you join the modern age, you primitive ... cat man! Don't you even dare think to--"
"Luckily," Kirill stressed by way of interruption, "for both of our sakes, I'll never make such a declaration. I've no use for a wife. And I certainly don't wish for one that would try to burn me alive every day."
"What? Oooh! I said it was like being burned alive, like ... oh, never mind!" Ulyssa glared hotly at him.
"Either way, I've no use for a wife," Kirill said, hiding his smirk.
"Great, so it's agreed. Untie me and point me to the nearest exit." Ulyssa relaxed against the bed. Her arms ached from her constant pulling. Her finger throbbed from lack of blood and her wrists were beginning to sting from being rubbed raw.
"I'm afraid that's no longer possible." Kirill turned to her and made his way across the room to stand above her.
"What in the hell are you talking about, not possible?" Ulyssa's eyes narrowed, as she stared up at him. Man, but he was handsome. If he weren't so damned frustrating, she'd try to get him to lie on top of her. Tingles erupted all over her skin. Suddenly, her binds didn't seem like such a bad thing. Her nerves reached out to him, wanting him.
"You've declared yourself my first half-mate." Kirill's eyes softened as he looked down at her.
"Yeah, so?" she demanded, growing rigid as she fought to control her lust for the barbaric King. Her lips pressed tightly together. "I take it back. I'm not your woman. There, taken care of. Now ... let ... me ... go!"
"My kind cannot take back such declarations, especially on the same day they're made. To do so would dishonor us both. It would be assumed either you lied or I misused you and later denied it. Either way, it's not a good way to start my reign as King--with scandal."
"Tell everyone I lied. You'll not be looked down upon. In fact, you can say you banished me from the palace as punishment. It'd solve both our problems." Unbidden, her eyes began a journey over his hard body. He was gorgeous to be sure. Her gaze took in his broad shoulders, his slender waist, his perfectly proportioned hips. Seeing the hard bulge pressing against his pants, her mouth went dry. She wished her hands were free so that she could pull open the laces at his hips to better see. But, being as her hands were occupied, she'd gladly use her teeth--if he'd just step closer.
"You'll be dishonored."
Ulyssa's eyes flew up to meet his. His features were lined with vast amusement.
"I don't care what your people think of me. So what I'm dishonored." She widened her eyes and declared mockingly, "I'm sure I'll get over it."
"To be dishonored in my culture is to face either imprisonment or death." Kirill's eyes roamed over her body, devouring her form as she had his. His gaze stopped to leisurely stare at her breasts. He purposefully licked his lips. "If I let you go, you'll be hunted."
"Well, oh dire one, tell me. How do we get out of this mess?"
"There's only two ways I know of," he answered.
"The first?"
"Death."
"I don't suppose you'd be willing to die for me, would ya stud?" Ulyssa asked with a raise of her brow.
"No." Kirill grinned mischievously at her--a truly wicked smile. Tremors again coursed through her at the look. He was really too attractive, just looking at him made her mind wander to naughtier things.
"And the second?" Her voice came out a whisper. His smile widened. Ulyssa grew nervous. "What's the second way?"
"You have to stay here, in my home, and be my mistress."
It took awhile for the shock of his bold statement to set in. Ulyssa stared at him, waiting for the laughter that was sure to follow such a declaration. The laughter never came. Even as her body leapt with fire at the idea of being his lover, her mind rebelled. She would belong to no man. She could be no man's mistress.
Lightly, he continued, "You'll stay, and your body will release mine."
Kirill eyed the beautiful woman tied to his bed, waiting for her reaction to his words. Her face was blank, but it didn't matter. He could see the disbelief in every subtle movement of her form. Her breath caught and held. Her fingers curled into light fists. He'd known the statement would irritate her.
"In return, mine will give you pleasure," he whispered with confidence. He watched her body shiver at the words.
Sacred Cats! She was ravishing to behold. From the view he was afforded of her silky hip all the way up her side to the roundness of her breast, he knew she was naked beneath the traditional gown. Her darker nipple pressed against the transparent material, outlined to perfection.
The darker region between her thighs drew his attention. Already, he knew she desired him. He could smell the scent of her as it filled his head. His mouth watered, eager to taste her. His lips parted slightly, wanting to taste the cream of her skin, the flavor of her essence. He wanted to ignite the passions he felt simmering beneath her fiery surface and at the same time slake his own burning needs.
He'd been shocked to find her strapped down as an offering to a King. He didn't doubt how she said she got there. Trust Falke, his ever-dutiful brother, to follow the old traditions to the letter. If this woman declared herself the future King's woman and then, as he suspected she had, tried to escape Falke as he made her ready, his Commander brother could've very well tied her down without a second thought. A King's wish in such matters was always followed.
She was strong, so frustratingly stubborn. Those traits were clear. But, beneath the stubborn exterior, he detected a vulnerability that made every fiber in his masculine being want to protect her and keep her safe. It'd been there in her eyes when he'd scared her in his shifted form. She'd never be more to him than a half-mate, a lover. But, to possess her, would be an honor worthy of a King.
"No."
"No?" Kirill's brows rose in surprise. What did she mean no?
"That's right. No. I'll not be your mistress," Ulyssa said. "I don't want to be."
"It's a position of great honor," he countered.
"Uh, still, no thanks. I'll pass." Ulyssa grinned smugly at him.
"You are in no position to negotiate." Kirill would never take an unwilling woman, but she had started the game between them and frankly he was amazed that she said no to him. He tilted his head and made a great show of taking a deep breath. Her longing filled him like a sweet, intoxicating perfume. "Besides, your body says you'd like very much to be my lover."
Ulyssa's mouth fell open, before she grumbled wryly, "Nice try, barbarian. If you were going to ravish me, you'd have done it last night. Now, let me go before I get really mad."
"Perhaps I should ask nicely before you make your decision." His voice practically growled as he grinned like a boy about to test a new sword. Slowly he made his way down to the foot of the bed, keeping his dark eyes on hers.
Gradually, Kirill's gaze slid down her frame, over her breasts, her waist, past her hips, until finally it stopped at the apex of her thighs hidden beneath the dark gown. His body curled forwa
rd as he moved onto the bed. Crawling on all fours, he came above her. His knees fitted between her loosely bound legs and he placed his palms down on the bed, outside of her thighs.
Slowly, he looked up at her, taking his time as he studied her body beneath his. Dark hair spilled over his shoulders and down his back. A light of promise filtered into his piercing gaze.
Ulyssa's heart nearly stopped at the meaning in his expression. Her breath came out in raspy pants. For the life of her, she couldn't think of a single thing to say. Kirill licked his lips as his finger drew forward to her knee. Lightly, he touched her and she trembled. Her eyes widened. A torrent of moisture pooled between her thighs and made ready for him.
Watching his finger as if it was the most important task in the world, Kirill drew it in light circles up her inner thigh. The back of his hand edged up her skirt by agonizingly small degrees. Her leg twitched, falling slightly open in invitation. The movement caused his hand to still in its progress over her skin. Kirill moaned softly, leaning over to brush his lips against her raised knee. He didn't kiss her, just allowed his lips to discover the texture of her skin in a brief caress.
Ulyssa's body jerked violently, giving away the depths of her need. Her center was wet, hot, nearly burning in anticipation. Her hands worked against the ties, fighting to be free. His lips brushed along her knee another time and she again jerked. Ripples of pleasure shot through her at the simple caress. Her back arched, offering itself up in invitation. She wanted more from him, so much more.
Kirill groaned in approval of her passion. She was so purely wild in her untamed responses. Even though he knew a part of her fought what stirred between them, she wanted him. Suddenly, he stopped and pulled his hand back into a fist. Sitting between her legs, he studied her intently.
"What?" she began, confused. Her lids fluttered as she searched for him in the dimness. "Why'd you stop?"
"You belonged to my father, Lyssa," he stated simply.
Ulyssa tensed. "I belong to no man, especially not your father."
The Savage King Page 5