How the Warrior Claimed

by Nicole René

  After Tyronian and her had a fight and—she flushed—made up, she had fallen asleep in her old hut. She had woken up in the middle of Tyronian carrying her back to their own, where they had made love again; Tyronian handled her body sensually that time, as if making up for his rough treatment earlier.

  As if her husband sensed her thinking about him, the door opened and he walked in. He paused once he saw her awake before he turned, closing the door with a decisive thud. The glint in his eyes when he faced her made her heart race, and her nipples hardened as arousal zinged through her with the same intensity as her nervousness.

  The steamy glint meant that last night wasn’t enough for him.

  “W-W-What are you doing?” Namoriee asked, her voice breathy from fear and excitement. It drove Tyronian crazy to see the flush crawling up her neck as her eyes flashed with the desire she tried so desperately to hide from him. He grinned, taking great pleasure in the way her erratic breaths made her breasts heave as he started to slowly unbutton his pants.

  “It’s time for me to take another of your firsts.” Namoriee gasped, no doubt shocked at his bluntness.

  “Come here, and get on your knees.” He motioned to the ground in front of him, letting out a husky chuckle when her eyes widened, riveted to the sight of him fisting himself when he was finally standing naked in front of her.

  She didn’t move.

  “Don’t make me come get you, Namoriee,” he warned. “I doubt you’d get as much pleasure as I will when I have to make your gorgeous bottom blush for misbehaving again. You have to the count of three.” He heard her breath hitch, but she still refused to move.

  “One.”

  He took a step forward. “Two.”

  Her chest was positively heaving now, her fight or flight instincts kicking in. Her mind was telling her one thing, while her body was telling her another.

  Fight won; she stayed where she was.

  “Three,” he whispered down at her when he reached their bed. His hand shot out, grabbed her ankle, and yanked her down and over onto her stomach.

  The smack he delivered was the first of many, and by the time he was done, her bottom was rosy again with his handprint. He traced his fingertip over the heated skin.

  “This might be my new favorite look on you, besides you being naked.”

  His fingers trailed down between the crack of her ass and touched the puckered hole. “I’m going to take you here,” he told her huskily. She stiffened when he pressed his thumb against it. “Not yet,” he assured her, “but someday. I told you before that I’m going to be your first everything, and I meant that.”

  His hand continued its trail downward until his thumb brushed her swollen bud. She groaned quietly when he inserted a finger inside of her, her wetness making it easy for him.

  “Look at how wet and pretty you are,” he whispered, watching her back flutter as she shivered. “You love when I touch this pretty cunt, don’t you?”

  He inserted another finger, scissoring them inside of her. She was still so tight, her channel trying to deny him entrance the same way her heart did. “Or maybe, your cunt likes everything I do to it. Is that it, my sweet?” he crooned. “Does this snatch like how I make it feel?”

  She made a low noise in her throat, and he waited until he could feel her insides start to flutter and pulse, on the brink of orgasm, before he pulled out. He did this over and over again, and once she was on the pinnacle of release—he stopped.

  “Tyronian!” she wailed in desperation. “Please!”

  He picked her up and slid her down his body, his hands buried in her hair to hold her in place once she was on her knees.

  “Open your mouth,” he growled. He was barely hanging on. When she didn’t do it right away, he pulled her hair in warning. She whimpered, but finally, finally, she opened her mouth.

  He groaned when the hot crevice of her mouth welcomed him. It felt so good. He thrust in deeper, watching with half-lidded eyes when she gagged, her hands flying up to grip his waist.

  He eased back.

  “Gods, you make me crazy,” he panted, pumping into her mouth with more gentle strokes. “I’m not gonna last long.”

  She gagged when he pushed deeper again, holding there just long enough for her to start to panic before he ripped himself out. He gave her only a moment to gulp precious air she thought she’d lost before he shoved into her mouth again.

  He continued to take her mouth this way, knowing that he was being too rough for her first time, but he vowed that he would make it up to her. Later, they would have another lesson, and he would treat her throat gently, train her on how to please him. But right now, he couldn’t.

  His spine started to tingle, his legs started to shake, and his sac grew heavy when the mother of all climaxes drew down on him. He pulled back sharply.

  “Stick out your tongue,” he ordered. One hand kept her head still while the other fisted his cock in furious strokes.

  “Now!” he barked when she didn’t follow his direction right away. She did as she was told, just in time, too, because a moment later he moaned and watched as his semen coated her tongue and dribbled down her lips. He was still panting as he watched with hooded eyes when Namoriee went to wipe her mouth with the blanket that had fallen to the floor.

  “No,” he stopped her, taking it away. “Swallow.”

  She hesitated, uncomfortable, but did it. And damn if it didn’t make his cock spring to life at the sight. When she licked her lips to wipe away the drops that had missed her tongue, it was enough to make him want to take her mouth again, just so he could put the droplets back.

  “Damn it all,” he muttered before he swooped her up and placed her back on the bed.

  “What are you doing?” she piped in a squeak.

  “Returning the favor,” he told her before burying his head between her thighs and getting to work.

  Tyronian leaned against the door jamb, watching the scene in front of him with a content smile. Namoriee was on all fours on the floor, looking under the blanket of their bed with exaggeration.

  “Where’s Xillik?” she asked the room, ignoring the giggle coming from inside the chest in front of her. The lid was propped up, two blue eyes peeking out from the crack to watch Namoriee search the room.

  “Xillik? Are you under here?” Namoriee asked, lifting the pillow. Another giggle broke out.

  “Huh,” Namoriee stood, placing her hands on her hips. “Where could he be?”

  “Boo!” Xillik yelled, standing up from within the chest with a wide, excited smile. Namoriee yelped, whirling around, her eyes wide as if the child had truly startled her.

  “There you are!” Namoriee exclaimed, lifting Xillik in her arms and tickling his stomach, making him squeal. “I looked everywhere for you! You’re such a good hider.”

  Xillik struggled in her arms, laughing hysterically as she continued to tickle him. Xillik’s gaze found his.

  “Ty Ty! Hewp!”

  “How long have you been there?” she asked, eyeing him suspiciously.

  “Long enough,” he replied cheekily. He started for them. “Now, it seems that you have someone who needs my assistance, and being the gallant warrior I am, who am I to refuse?”

  Namoriee snorted, backing away as he started to circle them.

  “Gallant wouldn’t be the first choice I would go with.”

  “Why you—!”

  He lunged for them, and both Namoriee and Xillik screamed and dashed away. They were all laughing manically when after a time Xillik decided to change his allegiance, and the game became keep-away-from-Tyronian as he helped Namoriee gang up on him.

  They didn’t stop playing until dinner, and it was the most fun he’d had in ages.

  “Heels down.”

  “Point your toes.”

  “Stop touching her mane and pay attention.”

  Those were the words that reached Namoriee’s ears, and she smiled at what she saw. Xillik was astride their smallest pony, Kimsung,
who ambled along dutifully as Xavier led her around, instructing Xillik on the proper form as Leawyn watched fretfully on the sidelines.

  “How’s he doing?”

  Leawyn jumped, startled. She looked at Namoriee when she came to a stop beside her, then quickly redirected her gaze to Xavier and Xillik.

  “Good,” she answered, biting her lip.

  “Don’t look so worried,” she laughed. Leawyn gave her a sheepish smile, her eyes never leaving her boys.

  “He’s just so young . . .”

  “Most are that age when they start to learn,” Namoriee pointed out.

  “I know, but it’s different. I know Xavier is there, but he’s my baby. Everything changes when you have kids.” Leawyn smiled wistfully. She shot a look at Namoriee, her grin turning playful.

  “You’ll learn that once you and Tyronian have a babe.”

  Namoriee blanched. “I’m too young to have a child.”

  “I wasn’t much older than you when I had Xillik.”

  “I don’t want kids,” she stressed. “And it’s my body.”

  Leawyn made a noncommittal humming sound. Namoriee’s lips firmed, and she shook her head in irritation. She watched Xavier and Xillik for a bit before turning her attention back to Leawyn.

  “Leawyn, I think—”

  A loud thump followed by a wail had Leawyn’s head snapping in the direction of the ring.

  “Xillik!” Leawyn yelped, running over to the fallen form of her son. “What happened?”

  “He needed to learn balance,” Xavier said, folding his arms. “I ensured that he did.”

  “You let him go?” Leawyn lifted Xillik into her arms. “He’s barely three, Xavier!” Leawyn yelled, brushing Xillik’s hair off his forehead and holding him close to her chest, soothing him as he cried.

  Xavier shrugged. “He’s not harmed. It merely startled him.”

  Leawyn glared at her husband. “This lesson is over. You shouldn’t have done that. He wasn’t ready!”

  Xavier’s eyes darkened, and Namoriee grew nervous at the look on his face.

  “He’s going to take over the tribe someday. He’s going to be a warrior, and it’s our custom that he rides a horse. He needs to be the best. He will be the best. This is our way, and you know it. I won’t let you coddle him, Leawyn.”

  He took a step towards them, and though Leawyn didn’t shy away, Namoriee saw her grip on Xillik tighten.

  “He needs to learn balance, and if it takes him falling off a horse multiple times to do that, so be it. Now, put him back on the horse. His lesson is over when I say it’s over.”

  Leawyn and Xavier squared off with each other, neither breaking eye contact or backing down.

  “Don’t make me punish you, Leawyn,” Xavier said with soft menace. “This isn’t something you can sway me on.”

  After a few tenser moments that had Namoriee’s anxiety mounting, Leawyn’s shoulders dropped, and she swung Xillik onto Kimsung’s back in defeat.

  “Hold tight, sweet boy,” Leawyn whispered to him as she wiped a tear off his cheek and smiled encouragingly. She stepped back when Xavier grabbed the rope again. She shot him another nasty look before going back to her spot to watch, Namoriee following dutifully behind her.

  Xillik fell off three more times, and each time he did, Leawyn’s expression grew stormier and stormier. Namoriee knew right away that she was going to stay clear of Leawyn’s hut tonight.

  She didn’t know who she was more afraid for—Xavier, or Leawyn.

  Namoriee followed silently as Leawyn carried Xillik back to the village. When Xavier had decided the lesson was over, Leawyn hadn’t wasted any time in taking Xillik away, ignoring Xavier when he tried to tell her that Xillik should walk. The filthy glare her lady shot her husband at that comment shut even him up.

  She didn’t know where Leawyn had inherited her spine of iron, but Namoriee was slightly envious. And also a bit worried for her lady’s mental health.

  “I’m going to kill him,” Leawyn seethed when they finally made it back to her hut. “I’m gonna wring his neck and kill him! He could have gotten seriously hurt! It’s his son!”

  Considering she just watched Leawyn practically fling Xillik down on their bed, her words lost some of their merit. No way was Namoriee pointing that out though. She preferred her neck attached to her body.

  “Leawyn,” Namoriee began, trying to calm her. “Xillik is fine. Xavier was only doing what his father did to him.”

  She shrank back at the look Leawyn gave her, blinking at the finger that was suddenly inches away from her nose.

  “You do not take his side,” Leawyn growled. “Ever!

  Wide-eyed, Namoriee could only nod in agreement.

  “Good!” Leawyn beamed, as if nothing had happened between them. “Now, I need you to take Xillik for me. I think it best that he’s not here when I kill—” A weird expression crossed her face, and then a wet slapping sound cut off the details of Leawyn’s murder plan. They both looked down, eyes growing wide when they saw the water stain growing on Leawyn’s skirts.

  “My lady . . .” Namoriee gasped in fear and excitement.

  Leawyn sighed, despondent.

  “Xavier is so lucky right now.”

  “He’s coming along nicely,” Tyronian called out to Xavier, propping a foot up on the wood post as he leaned his front against it. Xavier glanced his way and steered Knox in his direction. Tyronian ducked under the fence once Xavier dismounted, meeting him halfway.

  “He’s strong,” Xavier said, patting Knox’s neck.

  “You asked to see me?” Tyronian said, breaking the silence that had befallen between them. “Yes.” Xavier motioned for Tyronian to follow him as he led Knox back to the pasture. “Have you heard word from Tristan?”

  “No, the last time I saw him was at my wedding.”

  The only sign of Xavier’s worry was the crease in his brows.

  “He’ll return when he’s ready. He just needs time,” Tyronian said upon noticing Xavier’s expression.

  “It’s been close to three winters!” Xavier burst out. “How much time does he possibly need?”

  “As long as it takes,” Tyronian answered sternly. “You mustn’t force him to stay, Xavier . . . not if he doesn’t want to.”

  Xavier scowled at that. “He has no choice.”

  “You can’t control everyone, cousin.” Tyronian laughed. “There’s this pesky thing called ‘free will.’”

  “I control a village of over two hundred strong; I can control anything I desire.”

  “I’ll be sure to tell that to your wife.”

  Xavier smirked at that. He opened the gate to the pasture, barely getting the halter off before Knox took off, galloping happily into the fields. Xavier’s expression was grim as he turned to face him. “Tyronian, I have to talk to you about the Siraces.”

  Tyronian’s humor dissipated. “What about them?”

  “It’s Kisias. He—”

  “Chief Xavier! Chief Xavier!”

  They both turned at the frantic tone. Castic was running full speed towards them, panic splayed across his face. He skidded to a stop in front of them so suddenly that he lost his balance and fell backwards. He was quick to recover though, and if fear wasn’t so potent on his expression, Tyronian probably would’ve laughed because of how comical the whole debacle was.

  “You have to come, Chief, it’s Lady Leawyn!”

  Tyronian caught the flash of fear on Xavier’s face before he masked it. “What happened?” Xavier demanded, already walking up the hill.

  “Lady Namoriee said that her water left her body and now pains have started to hit her!” Castic hurriedly explained, keeping pace with them.

  “Shit,” Tyronian breathed. He knew what that meant. Leawyn had gone into labor.

  They needed no further prompting. They ran the rest of the way.

  “What happened?” Xavier barked when they reached his hut. Namoriee looked up from where she was attending Leawyn, her fac
e pale but her expression otherwise set in cool calculation. If Tyronian didn’t know her so well, he never would have been able to tell that she was scared.

  Leawyn looked terrible. She was pale, her brow slick with sweat. Some of her blond locks stuck to her forehead, and her face was etched with pain. Namoriee stood, giving up her position beside Leawyn to Xavier, who immediately bent down to console his wife. Leawyn started to cry.

  “Where’s Aggod?” Tyronian whispered down to Namoriee when she came up beside him.

  “I sent for her, but she hasn’t come. I’m getting worried.”

  “I’ll fetch her.” Tyronian glanced over at his cousins once more before he left. The healer’s hut was in the middle tier of the Izayges village so that she could be easily accessible to all the inhabitants. It took only a few minutes for Tyronian to reach it. He was surprised to see Castic already there, his back to him and seemingly frozen halfway inside.

  “Castic?” He frowned when Castic jumped about a foot in the air as he clapped him on the shoulder in greeting. An unsettling feeling churned in his gut when Castic looked up at him with a numb expression.

  “What is it?”

  Castic shook his head, green eyes glazed as he pointed a shaking finger inside, stepping back so that Tyronian could slip past him.

  He stopped abruptly at what he found inside.

  Tyronian was taking too long.

  Namoriee kept one eye on the door, willing her husband to return, while the other kept busy with counting the ripples that took Leawyn’s body. A pained groan brought her attention back to Leawyn, who grew stiff as another contraction swept through her. They were getting closer and closer together.

  “Where is Aggod? She should be here by now!” Xavier raged, barely flinching when Leawyn clamped down on his hand tightly with her pain. His mood had grown increasingly dark and volatile the more in pain his wife became. He had never been able to handle Leawyn in distress, and he had been the same way with each of her births.