He fucked hard, each stroke more compelling than the one before until she clawed at his back, cried out his name, and shattered before he withdrew and readied for another down stroke. “It’s been a long time,” she whispered, the heated words warming against his throat. Her admission of celibacy heightened his arousal and stroked his ego to know she remained true to him whilst he was away.
“No need, darling. ‘Tis gratifying to know you practiced restraint whilst I was gone. The thought of you with another man makes me feel impenitently murderous. Now that you have been a good girl, I feel a reward is in order.” He withdrew, sat his butt on his heels, and took leisure in examining her body as if seeing, touching, an exquisite treasure that dazzled him for the first time.
“I thought you said reward not punish.” She motioned to his cock. “Shouldn’t it be inside me if you truly intend to show your appreciation?” she said. Saxby licked her lips, focused on the glorious turgid length, bulbous crown that swayed with his movements.
Juden threw back his head and laughed in a robust rumble that came from deep within his chest. His hair swung forward as he leaned over her, the plaited-twists grazed her belly, its texture silky, caressed her skin like feathers. He moved in fluid grace, rippling muscles and sinew and tenderly kissed her stomach as if saying “thank you.” Then he spread her thighs wide, inhaled sharply, absorbing her scent before the tip of his tongue flickered over her clit. Then again…repeatedly, until he stopped the uncontrollable squirming, so he could feast on her properly, which he did, with vigor, and attention of man that thirsted after a long drought.
“Juden, more.,” she gasped and shuddered. Her nails dug into his hair in desperation.
She was quite vocal aside, given his experience, he would have recognized the overwrought sensations captured her senses and he knew if he wanted to he could easily bring her to fulfillment. He didn’t, for purely selfish reasons and without remorse, knowing better than her that the more he prolonged her orgasm, the sensitivity to his touch would be pleasurably unbearable when he did release her she’d experience a tumultuous orgasm.
He sought her sex with his tongue, sucked the slippery nub, before he rotated the tip of tongue back and forth, creating circles over the tiny crest before he delved into the wet split. A man of familiarity, he was keenly aware to reach peaked stimulation, women required more than a touch. He knew taste, sight, and sound helped heighten arousal. For those purposes, to please the lady, he murmured naughty sexual phrases against her pussy he knew she could hear as well as feel the vibration. She clutched the bedding and twisted it between her fingers in sweet agony.
“This is pure torture.” Her tone diminished and faded into a moan.
He backed off marginally, murmured against her moist flesh, he said between licks. “Sweet torture, like you, darling. I’m doing everything I can to fuck myself silly and savor this generously moist, plump, and hot delicacy. He dipped low, teased the hardened nubbin, and washed her pussy in constant whips of flames. A hand ran down the between the crevice of her ass, parted her, and eased inside the forbidden snug portal clenched his finger when he entered up to the knuckle. He pushed further, deeper, before he started fingering her delicately. “Juden!”
It was a pleading sob. To stop or continue he hadn’t decided. At expense of sounding crass, at this point he didn’t care. He was beyond needy. “Bear with my need to indulge myself,” he said, driving his finger to and fro, a steady flux of motion, he chose an easy pace understanding the need to take it slow. When she trembled, relaxed, and he felt the tunnel gap for better access, he added another finger and increased the tempo. He kissed her mons, teased, sliced his tongue inside her pussy and caught up the rhythm of his finger inside her ass. Simultaneously, keeping his hand and tongue in perfect synchronization, he thrust both appendages in a continuous cadence until she lifted off the bed, said some very unlady-like expletives before coming unglued. She climaxed and came, filling his mouth with sweet cream, repeatedly mouthed breathless accolades before he felt sufficiently pleased with himself.
Breathless, she said, “Thank you.”
He grinned. “You’re welcome.” He lay down beside her, gathered her in his arms, pressing her back against his chest, and spooned. He moved her damp hair aside, kissed the nape of her neck. “Let me know when you have rested enough to continue.”
“There is more?” She sounded stunned.
Juden’s expression turned wicked. “I have a multitude of ways to show you how much I appreciate you.”
She turned around and faced him. “Numerous days in the saddle makes you weary. Remember your statement?”
He laughed softly, brushed a strand of wild hair that had fallen into her face. “I’m a warrior. Stamina is not a requirement but a must for survival. I can fight on weary for weeks.” He winked at her.
Her eyes flew open.
“I’m not uncivilized, so take your time and catch your breath.”
“I didn’t think it could get better,” she said and snuggled up against him.
Short of confirming her statement, there wasn’t anything to say. He remained mute, preferring to allow her to bask in the aftermath of post-coital serenity that followed multiple orgasms. Maybe, his need to throttle the urgency to fuck himself into delirium, with his state of mind, it was plausible. “Juden,” she called his name softly, as if she feared waking him. Because she couldn’t see in the dark, she wasn’t aware he was awake and watched her.
“What?”
“I missed you terribly.”
“That is good to know.”
He felt her reluctance to ask the next question. “Did you miss me? I mean, at least, a tiny bit?”
Juden shifted and stared at her. She looked almost afraid to hear his response. He touched her cheek gingerly, ran a fingertip down her nose, a blatant show of affection, before he cupped her face in his palms and drew her closer. “Not a tiny bit.” He felt her stiffen. He would have continued to jest. He wasn’t a monster, she looked genuinely destroyed by the simple rejection. “Ah, Saxby, when will you stop underestimating me?” He brushed his lips over her lips, pressed harder, moving forward until she fell onto her back.
“I don’t underrate you, Juden,” she said in a quiet voice. “Aye, you do.”
“Maybe I’m used to being disappointed by Milo.”
He touched her lips to stop her. “I’m not Milo.” She nodded. He smiled, which made her smile, and something warm spread inside him. She was beautiful beyond compare. Not just in physical appearance with shimmery reddish-brown curls, heart-shaped lips, and eyes an indescribable hue that reminded him of emeralds but more brilliant. Her persona added to her allure, vivacious, striking, and sexy as hell, attractiveness that was magnified because modesty was also a part of her appeal.
He was accustomed to women sharing his bed for one motive or another that normally didn’t go beyond sexual gratification. The females he indulged were quick to be pretentious about their relationship, and always focused on their wants over anything else. While he understood perfectly from the onset his place with the opposite sex, especially non-variants, he didn’t begrudge them. He, too, had his reasons that were rarely in alignment with theirs. What he wouldn’t give the women who graced his bed is the part of him he deemed exclusive. Until now, with the refreshed awakening Saxby made him feel even when he didn’t want to.
He had been in lust, used others, and acquired a measure of fondness for those he doted on periodically when he felt benevolent. That was just the way things went, and he never questioned the trysts as anything except brief required encounters.
This was different.
Saxby made him feel special.
“I missed you, too.”
* * * *
Saxby squealed with delight, flung her arms around Juden, and squeezed him to death. Then she hugged him again, giggled, and climbed over his body. She stretched the length of his frame. They fitted perfectly and lay against his body, meshing her softness into
the hard contours of masculinity beneath her.
She kissed him softly, a feminine touch, feathery and seductively slow before releasing him.
“That makes me happy, Juden.”
“I see,” he said, a lazy grin on his face. He held her hips moving her up into a sitting position on his lap.
She gave him a pert look. “I shouldn’t show my affection so openly. This is madness.”
“We should stop then.”
“We should,” she uttered.
“Okay.”
He went to raise her, and she caught his hand. She gave him a sharp glance trying hard to keep her lips from twitching. “Maybe we shouldn’t be so hasty in making a decision to cease this delicious insanity we’re caught up in. I was merely making a statement. It just jumped into my head.”
“Darling, you can have whatever you want.”
His tone, mannerism, so sincere struck a chord in Saxby. He spoke as if to let her know he willingly would oblige her every whim. The thought of it made flutters burst inside her chest and left her feeling giddy. For a fleeting moment, she basked in the possibility of being with Juden for the rest of her life. Not some whimsical fantasy that would end eventually when she had to face reality and admit she belonged to Milo, and there was nothing to do about it.
“You’re thinking too hard,” he said.
It was a simple comment which snapped her out of her folly thought. She looked down at him, stroked her fingers over the dark shadow covering his jaw line. Her fingers lingered, caressing him tenderly, her eyes saying all the things she felt but neglected to say because she didn’t want to speak her fears openly.
She remained quiet. Unsure what else to do, wanting to say something, she abruptly changed the topic. “Where did you go?”
“Hunting.”
She could tell Juden response was meant to be evasive, which made her that more curious. “Did you succeed? You were gone a long time, only to return empty handed.”
“It wasn’t that type of hunting,” he said, blandly.
“I don’t understand.”
Juden studied her for a long moment, and then lifted her off him. He sat back, pillowed his arms behind his head, closed his eyes, and seemed to drift off into another place and time.
“You don’t have to explain if you don’t want to.”
Juden sounded distance, his tone hollow. “I went after the men who killed my son.”
Saxby’s eyes misted with compassion. “Oh, I shouldn’t have pried. I apologize. I’m sorry for your loss.”
“They were after me, and Keaton got caught in the crossfire. I’m assuming. It doesn’t really matter. When I find the bastards they are dead.” His tone held a cold countenance.
Her eyes flashed wide at his insinuation. Her heart stuttered at the thought someone would be so callous to kill a child. With the unrest between clans, battles fought every day, and men died. That was to be expected, not accepted in her mind, but it was the way of life. But to know someone took an innocent life seemed unfathomable to her.
“Those men almost killed you to, didn’t they? That’s why you have scares from the arrows on your back.”
“I wanted to die. The thought of avenging my son’s death kept me alive. I lost track of the vermin at Behrhause. Another opportunity will come. I won’t stop searching until I’m dead.”
Saxby nodded understanding. “You told me one time you didn’t want children. Is it because of what happened to Keaton?”
“Aye, I don’t want my child, anyone close enough to me for someone to hurt just to get at me.”
Juden had to know there were consequences for their actions. She circled her belly, hugged herself, and contemplated telling him the news, unsure how he would receive it left her struggling for air. There was ways to purge a child. The thought of doing such made her nauseous. Scared Juden might suggest she do the unthinkable made her lightheaded. She floated in a surreal moment thinking she might have misjudged Juden.
No, she wouldn’t think such. Juden was a good and decent man.
“Is there something you want to ask or say?” he said, peering at her through lowered eyelids.
Saxby shook her head no.
“I thought you might tell me you’re carrying my child?”
She whirled around, mouth dropped, she stared at him. “You know?”
“I’ve known for a long time, Saxby.”
“Before you left?”
“The moment it happened,” he said casually, as if knowing the exact time of conception was an everyday occurrence. When she didn’t know herself until Rashma told her when she complained about feeling ill, and she received the shocking but pleasant information. “How could you know when I did not?”
Juden shrugged. He closed his eyes.
“Tavian can read minds…” she said, letting the thread of conversation end purposely to see his reaction.
“My brother is very intuitive,” he murmured.
“Apparently it runs in the family.”
“With some variants, aye, the insight to know things, sense strong emotions, and having a keen perception is part of our heritage.”
“I know so little about variants or more specifically you.”
“I’m pretty transparent.”
“You know what I mean.” She nudged him.
Juden rolled to his side, rested his jaw on his palm, and watched her. He remained silent, absorbed in reflection, as if deciding if he would answer her question or not. It took him a long time, but eventually he began to talk.
“My mother was Tanzenth VanZandt, daughter to Lucif VanZandt who was the sovereign over our people. She was young and impetuous by nature, and wanted to make her own way in the world because she felt like living under her father had too many restrictions. Naively, she believed all the evils of the world grandfather warned her about was a figment of his imagination or over exaggerated because she hadn’t lived through the battle for freedom and equality between humans and variants. She only heard tales, what she believed to be gossip of elders who still held prejudices against non-variants. She had a trusting and good heart even when it wasn’t warranted,” he said. He paused before picking up the conversation.
“She had a thirst for life, my grandfather used to say. My mother sought adventurers, something she missed due to the sheltered life she lead. Perhaps, as I said, she was just naïve. Whatever the reason, she left the protection of Duns Laire, and even after my grandfather found her, he couldn’t force her to return home. He kept a watchful eye on her, as much as he could, however, some things were out of his control. They were, is, a distinct line between humans and variants then greater than it is today. Once she came under the protection of Lord DeCapri, my grandfather’s hands became tied. Short of enacting a major war against the King he had to let her be.”
“Lord DeCapri, your father, it was rumored he loved your mother. Surely he meant her no harm.”
“Lord DeCapri adorned my mother. He couldn’t help her once the Days of Unrest were initiated. By then, he was ill, and some say on his deathbed, unable to secure my mother away when matters became critical. Lord DeCapri died shortly after the war was waged against variants.”
“But she escaped.”
“She was resourceful, if nothing else. As soon as she learned what a precarious situation she was in, she fled Dandelion. Traveled day and night through the territory until she reached the River Gorge boundary, where she convinced someone to take her across the waters to the safety of her people who already started to come into the Northern Territory to protect their own. She survived many years, long after the Days of Unrest bloodlust ceased and a measure of truce was agreed upon by the new King and my grandfather.” Juden sighed. “Many lives were lost. ‘Tis rumored the River Gorge ran red with blood before the fighting stopped. Unfortunately, not before many people, families, even friendships between variants and humans were destroyed. The war fed mistrust amongst our people, left most bitter, and others cautious that we could ever live
within the Northern Territory, under the King’s rule, as a peaceful nation.”
“Is that when Duns Laire became its own entity?”
“Aye, it was a condition of the cessation of fighting. My grandfather thought it was the best course of action. He was correct, and thankfully, the new King had the brains to realize this. Like us, he, too, lost many and with the variants call to their allegiants to fight by our side, he had no choice. We would have eventually annihilated humans to extinction.”
Saxby sat upright and folded her legs beneath her. “You think that is why your people are feared, because you are at the top of the evolution hierarchy? If only you choose such. Perhaps, ‘tis why I heard rumblings of a rebellion against variants is on the rise?”
Juden seemed distracted by her statement. He looked at her, and she got the impression she didn’t have his undivided attention. His mind remained fixated on her last statement, as if he was thinking through its implication. She didn’t doubt he listened, watched her, and then as quick as his attention drifted he was back with her. His eyebrows wrinkled and caused his forehead to crease, his gaze hardened as he responded.
“The belief possibly comes from stupidity more so than anything. It’s human nature to destroy what they fear instead of trying to understand and accept differences. Throughout history, there is evidence prejudices and cultural prejudices has been a predecessor to fuel mistrust which has led to unnecessary war, and senseless massacres of lives. You have nothing to fear from me,” he said, studying her closely.
“I do not fear you, Juden.”
“Are you afraid of what I am?” What I can become, if required.”
She assumed her silence was telling, but Juden had no idea why she did not respond. There were so many questions, unknowns, and things she learned about the variants that she wanted to validate, hear the truth, and in some instances ignore what she believed were the true nature of his kind.
Barbour, Carolina - Watch Me, Desire Me (Siren Publishing Allure) Page 23