The buildings lined the streets, two and three stories high, all clean and pristine with potted plants hanging from their windows and stationed outside their entryways. There was a giant well in the very center of town, big enough to accommodate at least twenty or so people at once, and on each side of that were rows of stalls and vendors selling just about anything you could think of: jewelry, bread, clothing, fresh fruit, trinkets, and so on.
Ben waved pleasantly at everyone he could, stopping to speak to a few of them at the well as we filled a couple canteens.
"Greetings, Prince Benson!" one of his citizens said. He was dressed a little fancier than everyone else, so I assumed he had more coin. "So glad to have you back after your extended trip to Eristan! I trust everything went well?"
Ben smiled and nodded. "Of course, Mister Resham. How are the silkworms this season?"
Ah, the silk man. No wonder he had a lot of coin.
"Doing excellent, Your Highness. Thank you for asking."
Ben then turned to a woman standing off to our right. "How’s the wheat and bread holding out, Mrs. Makhbiz?"
The woman smiled and bowed to him. She was short and slightly wrinkled, with her long, dark hair pulled into a bun at the back of her head. "Fairly well, Your Highness. But as usual, we could always do with more."
Ben’s eyes twinkled with warmth as he grinned. "I’ll be sure to touch the wheat fields today on my pass through."
"Bless you, Your Highness," she responded with reverence.
We continued on, stopping just outside of the main city in a more rural area that somehow boasted fields of vegetation growing right out of the sand. I stole a glance at Ben from the corner of my eye. I knew it must have been his doing.
He knelt down and touched a vine, extending its reach and doubling its flowers and fruit. Green, striped melons suddenly bloomed all over the place. I smiled, mouth hanging open in awe as I watched. He blinked a few times, shook his head, then took a quick drink of water. The cool liquid instantly paid the price of his magic for him, so he could continue on to another patch of vegetation.
Here, there were long, oval vegetables with skins of yellow, orange, and red. He did the same thing as before, stretching their vines and multiplying their yield.
"You’re quiet," he said to me as we made our way toward the wheat fields next.
I glanced up at him, surprised to find worry etched into his features. "I’m sorry. I was just watching you do your thing. It’s pretty fascinating."
He smiled back, but it almost looked pained. "I just thought.... We haven’t spent much time together since that night in Ravibad, and I was afraid..."
I cocked my head. "Afraid I didn’t like the bondage?"
His cheeks flushed a gentle pink. "Sort of. More like..." But he trailed off and didn’t finish the sentence.
"More like what?" I asked, taking his hand, eager to set his fears at ease, whatever they may be.
He knelt in front of a patch of wheat and sighed, digging his fingers into the sand. The long, golden stems shot up even taller, and their braided spikes filled with seeds. He quickly took another sip from his canteen and shook his head.
"I’ve always been afraid that... I’m like him."
My stomach dropped, and I shook my head. "No, Ben, you’re nothing like him."
His smile was wry. "Think about it. He enjoys torture; I enjoy torture—mine’s just more of the sexual variety. He restrains people; I restrain people. He likes causing pain; I like causing pain. He’s a control freak; I’m a control freak—again, sexually, but still."
I dropped to my knees beside him and took his hand. "No ‘but still.’ What you do is not even close to the same thing. Your intentions are totally different."
He shook his head, as if lost in his own thoughts. "I try so hard to be as kind and caring as I can be in real life, but it’s just to counterbalance that darkness in me."
I reached out and cupped his cheek with my palm, pulling his brown-eyed gaze onto mine. "You are not dark, Benson Storm. You are the embodiment of light and goodness. I’ve never met a person as kind and caring as you, and I don’t think that has anything to do with your fear of darkness; I think you’re just genuinely that amazing."
He took a deep breath and searched my eyes for something—possibly trying to decide if I was being honest or not.
"I know my word isn’t as magical and binding as yours," I said, stroking his cheek with my thumb, "but for what it’s worth, you have my word that I’m telling you the truth."
He leaned in and kissed me so fast, I never even saw it coming. My lips parted automatically, allowing his tongue to slip into my mouth and dominate me. The harder we kissed, the harder it was to breathe, and I was a panting mess before he finally pulled away.
"What’s the current score for rule number one?" he asked.
Keep things even. Especially sexually.
I giggled and shook my head as I caught my breath. "I just so happen to owe you one."
"Is that right?" His brows rose ,and he kissed me again.
I nodded, then slid my tongue across his bottom lip.
He groaned and pulled away, surprising the hell out of me.
"What’s wrong?" I asked as my brows knit together.
He spun in a wide circle, dragging his hands through the sand, and suddenly there were trees and tropical plants, bushes, and vines surrounding us from all sides. As I marveled at the sight before me, he chugged the rest of his canteen and tossed it aside.
"I figured we’d need a little privacy," he said, before slowly pulling off his shirt and strolling toward me.
My hands instinctively moved to the muscled ridges of his chest and abs, stroking his tanned skin with greedy fingers. I leaned in and kissed his neck and throat, squeezing his biceps as I made my way up to his lips. Gods, he felt good in my arms, all warm and steadfast—all mine.
"We don’t have the kind of time we had back in Ravibad," he said against my mouth.
I kissed him again, savoring the taste of his tongue on mine. "I know. We’ll have to make it quick."
His grin darkened. "I don’t know about quick, Sailor." Then he pinned my hands above my head and tied them together with a magical vine, securing the other end to a nearby tree.
I raised a brow, wondering what he had in mind this time. Then he ripped my dress, right down the front. I gasped, shocked by the sudden destruction, but he didn’t stop there. He kept tearing the material until it fell completely off my body, lying beneath me like a blanket. Then he did the same to my bra and panties.
I had to admit, his primal caveman-like actions were hot as fuck.
Then his hands were at my eyes, and beautiful pink flowers bloomed in my vision, blocking the world from my sight. All I could smell was honey and peonies, and all I could see were the soft pink petals before me.
"I want to kiss you all over, however I want, without you being able to see or stop me."
That delicious vulnerability washed over me again, and I was grateful once more that I was with a man I trusted completely. I couldn’t move, I couldn’t see, and I couldn’t fucking wait for him to touch me.
His mouth moved down my throat and between my breasts, travelling slowly across the planes of my stomach before trailing down one of my thighs. Then he came back up, moving to the other side of my body as he made his way up to my mouth.
"This body is mine," he told me, gliding his hands along my sides. Then he was back to kissing me, this time sucking on each of my nipples before dipping lower to circle my clit with the tip of his tongue. The soft touch was maddening, making me squirm in pleasure.
He pulled away, and I heard a rustling sound. Excitement filled me as I wondered what I’d feel next.
My skin suddenly tickled as something soft and light was dragged up my arm. It felt like a feathery plant of some sort. It trailed over my breasts, teasing and tantalizing my nipples before snapping down with a sting on my skin. Pain flared, followed quickly by a rush of heat and p
leasure.
He mimicked the move again, trailing it over my stomach and lady bits before snapping it down on those as well. Throbbing heat rushed between my legs. I could hardly believe my reaction. I never imagined getting whipped in the crotch would actually be pleasurable... yet, there I was, panting like a bitch in heat.
He dragged the plant down my legs and back up again, spreading me open before snapping the inside of my thighs. I couldn’t help the moan that escaped my lips.
I jumped slightly as his fingers found my slit, spreading my wetness from top to bottom. I was quickly getting lost in a sea of pleasure, and somehow the pinkish petals in my vision only added to the sensual effect. It was like a dream, a fantasy.
Then the head of his dick was on me, hot and hard, rubbing up and down and driving me insane with need. I lifted my hips, hoping I could coax him inside, but was rewarded with a swift crack on the ass. I hissed in pain, knowing there was probably a pretty, red handprint on my butt cheek, but soon I was so dripping with desire that I didn’t even care.
"Fuck, you’re so wet," he groaned.
Then his hands were on my hips, pulling me closer to him as he rammed his cock inside me. I gasped, and my nipples instantly tightened as a wave of goose bumps sailed across my skin.
"Whatever you do, don’t come." He thrust into me again, driving his dick like a corkscrew before retreating once more. He continued this pattern for... I didn’t even know how long. Long enough for me to go rigid in his grasp; long enough for the pleasure to become overwhelming.
Suddenly my legs were split, one on the ground, one up in the air over his shoulder. He pushed into me, his body pressing my thigh down to my stomach and chest, stretching me in a way I hadn’t yet experienced. It somehow allowed his cock to slide in even deeper. He worked his hips, driving in with that same spiraling pattern, the one that so readily hit all the right places.
As the pressure built once more, he paused and peeked under my flowery blindfold. "No coming until I say, okay?"
I bit my bottom lip. "Yes, sir."
His eyes flooded with heat, and he dropped my blinder once more. "Good girl." He made quick work of building me up, before slowing down and whispering, "Not yet."
Then he built me up again, only to slow down and say it again.
"Gods fucking damn it, this is killing me!" I groaned, which of course, earned me another smack on the ass.
"You ready to come?" he demanded. "You can’t handle it anymore? Not for another second?"
I didn’t know why, but a tear escaped my eye as desperation filled me. "Not another second," I pleaded. "Please."
I was pretty sure my begging set him off. He pounded into me ruthlessly, ratcheting my pleasure to extreme heights before finally allowing me to get off.
"Come for me, sweetheart. Now," he growled.
I couldn’t help it, it was like his wish was my body’s command, and suddenly I was crying out and clenching down all around him. The orgasm was so intense it was borderline painful, but the pleasure was enough to mask any extreme discomfort. I rode that high until I could barely move, my entire body nothing more than a limp pile of skin and bones puddled in the sand. Ben came not long after me, adding his own fluids to my puddle of bliss.
Suddenly, my wrists were free of the vines, and the flowered blindfold was removed from my eyes. Ben’s brown gaze landed on me with so much warmth it could melt the Obsidian sun, and love bubbled up in me, pure and raw.
I loved him. I loved them. All of them.
He pulled me to my feet and into his arms, then stroked my skin as he nuzzled his face into my neck.
"We should get back to the palace," he muttered.
I snickered a little humorlessly and gestured to my naked frame. "And how exactly am I going to do that with no dress?"
He sent me a warm grin. "I can control the vegetation, remember?"
He reached over and grabbed a vine, closing his eyes as it quickly braided itself together in midair. The thick, green material wove around and around my body, covering me in a strange dress with peekaboo creases. It was softer than it looked and smelled like summertime.
After using so much magic, Ben crashed to the ground, feeling around as if he couldn’t see or hear—and truthfully, he probably couldn’t.
I rushed over and tipped my canteen to his lips, allowing the water to trickle in slowly so he didn’t choke. He drank and drank until the whole container was empty, and after a few seconds, he blinked and slowly came back to normal.
"Thanks, Sailor," he said with a grateful half smile. "Are you ready to go wake the guys so we can plan our next move?"
"I am now," I said with a deliberate grin.
Whatever that move actually was, it would have to be huge, because the unspoken fact of the matter remained: if chimeras were anti-magic, with the power to incapacitate a god, then there was no way in hades we could hand over a chimera egg to their murderous lunatic of a father.
Chapter 24
"We are not handing you over to the Storm King," Cal growled, scowling at Ash.
"He wouldn’t even know it was me!" Ash argued. "I’d be in a damned egg."
This dispute had already been going on for a half hour or so, and we’d basically gotten nowhere.
If we gave the Storm King the real chimera egg, he’d use it to kill us somehow, or at least to control us more thoroughly, there was no doubt about it. But if we gave him a replacement egg, it might buy us some time to come up with a better plan—whatever the hell that might be. Then again, that had the potential to backfire epically when the Storm King found out the truth of our deception.
Ash’s plan, unfortunately, made the most sense, but it also came with the highest risk. He wanted to shift into a baby chimera, still in its egg, and spy on the king for as long as he could. If the king smashed the egg right away, Ash would have to hope he could stay in his yolk form long enough to chance turning into a bug and flying away—much like he’d done the last time he escaped the king.
But if the Storm King waited for him to hatch and inadvertently said or did anything in the egg’s presence, then that might give us some invaluable insight into the twisted innerworkings of the psycho’s mind. And if he took the egg somewhere—say, to a powerful sorcerer—then we’d have even more knowledge.
Then came the downside.
What if Ash was found out somehow? The Storm King would torture the hell out of him for, like, ever. Or worse, finish what he started all those years ago...
Ash’s life was worth way more to us than information. He just didn’t see it that way.
"We are not arguing about this any longer, Asher," Cal stated plainly. "It’s too dangerous, and we won’t risk it. End of story."
Ash glared at him. "Gods, Cal, Alexis is right. I’d forgotten how fucking bossy you are."
Cal almost chuckled, but he quickly put his hard-ass mask back on and sent his brother a glare of his own.
"Anyway," Dan said, clearly sensing the tension and trying to diffuse it, "any ideas on how we survived that chimera attack in the first place? Or why we all felt the pain of the blood bond in the woods even though none of us were hurt or in trouble?"
All eyes turned to Ben who looked conflicted. "I have a theory."
"I figured you might," Dan said, grinning.
"Well, spill it, bro," Rob grumbled. "We need to figure this shit out."
Ben looked at each of us, his mind seemingly whirling a mile a minute behind his chocolatey brown eyes. "I think... someone else is included in the bond."
Shut the fuck up.
"What?" Rob hissed.
Cal and Dan looked equally as pissed and surprised.
"How could that be possible?" Ash demanded. "It was implausible enough that I got included. How the hell could anyone else be involved?"
Ben shook his head as he contemplated all the various possibilities. "You got included because your blood was on Alexis’s hand."
Ash shrugged dramatically. "Yeah, so?"
Ben turned to Rob. "You punched Chrissen in the nose that night at the ball. It bled."
Rob’s eyes narrowed into perilous slits, his plush lips thinning dangerously. "That shouldn’t fucking matter. He’s not even a Storm!"
Ben shook his head. "But he is. His mother gave him the surname even though he was never recognized as an official heir."
A smile crept onto Dan’s lips despite the craziness of the situation—or maybe because of it. "You have to be fucking kidding me. Rob had Chrissen’s blood on his hand, and Alexis had Ash’s blood on hers, and now there’s seven of us included in this crazy shit?"
Ben half-shrugged. "It’s the most logical explanation I can come up with."
Rob growled and tossed the chair he’d been sitting on across the room, cracking its wooden frame against the wall. "Gods fucking damn it! I hate that guy."
And yet, if you hadn’t hated him so much that you punched him in the face, we wouldn’t be in this mess. I kept that thought to myself, though. He was already pissed off enough.
"So, what does this mean?" Cal asked, keeping his face carefully neutral. "How do we deal with this?"
Ben chuckled darkly, as if, like Dan, he too couldn’t believe our shitty luck. "If it means what I think it does, then this Chrissen guy’s lifeforce is officially tied to ours. If he’s put in mortal peril, he’ll continuously suck power from us until he’s healed. If we’re put in peril, we’ll draw strength from him; not much, considering I’m pretty sure he’s not a descendant of the gods, but still. It was enough to keep us alive after the chimera attack, so it’s at least worth something."
Rob nudged Dan’s arm until he moved over and made room for him on the couch. When he sat down, he rubbed his temples. "So, basically, we get to babysit a nonmagical dude for the rest of our lives, because if he ever does anything stupid and gets himself hurt, we’re the ones who are gonna pay for it."
Ben nodded. "Basically, yes."
"But it does go both ways," Cal reminded them, trying to find the diplomatic happy medium.
Dan scoffed. "Barely. There’s a chance he can keep us alive for a short time, but it’s not like he’s really going to benefit us in any way."
Stormy Nights (Storms of Blackwood Book 2) Page 20