by Jaide Fox
He still had not decided whether or not he should tell her her father had disowned her when he reached the door to his suite. Abruptly recalling the look of devastation on her face when she had asked about her father, he decided against it. He could think of no reason why she needed to know, and many why she shouldn’t be told.
She was his concubine. He could simply refuse to allow her to see her father. She would be angry, but he thought that she would get over that. He wasn’t so certain she would get over the discovery that the father she loved did not love her.
He was almost surprised to discover that the latch opened the door readily.
She was seated in the tub, bathing, and he stopped abruptly, feeling his throat close as he stared at the foaming water that revealed almost as much of her body as it concealed. With a strenuous effort, he dragged his gaze from her breasts to her face. Without even glancing at the maids attending her, he bellowed, “Out!”
Removing the tunic he wore, he strode toward the tub without waiting to see if they complied to the order or not, and discarded his loincloth, climbing into the tub with her.
She uttered a gasp, her eyes widening as he stepped into the tub with her.
The water crested the edge of the tub and washed over in a great wave as he settled, drawing shrieks of dismay from the maids that hadn’t moved quickly enough. Ignoring them, and the slamming of the door behind them, Talin reached for Aliya and dragged her against him, covering her surprised mouth at the same moment.
As welcome heat surged through her blood, Aliya melted against Talin, entwining her arms around his neck to keep her water slick body from slipping away from his. The hungry possessiveness of his kiss wiped every thought from her mind. Only a dizzying need that quickly became a conflagration remained as her skin slipped along his in delightful friction and their bodies bumped together.
The heat of his mouth was nearly searing as he stroked his tongue possessively along hers and then coaxed her tongue into his own mouth, sucking it. Her body quaked at that, went up in flames.
She was shaking all over when he broke the kiss at last and moved his mouth along the tender skin of her throat and neck. His hands skated from her waist to her hips and down, cupping her buttocks and bringing her up onto his thighs. The tips of his fingers delved her cleft from behind as he lifted her against him. When she settled again, she felt his engorged member where his fingers had been moments before, gliding along her cleft with insistent pressure. Gasping, she tightened her arms around his neck, squeezing her eyes closed to hold the pleasure more tightly to her as he guided her in a slow rocking motion that touched off tremors of exquisite sensation.
Lifting her again after only a moment, he guided the head of his cock into the mouth of her sex, bearing down on her hips until her body began to slowly settle over his. She gasped, struggling to adjust to the intrusion.
He dragged her face down, kissed her lips briefly and then lifted her again, fastening his mouth over one nipple and sucking it until her belly began to clench and unclench around the flesh he’d embedded in her, kneading his cock rhythmically.
Uttering a groan, as if he was in pain, he released her nipple and surged upward, carrying her with him.
Aliya gasped, her eyes flying wide as his hands settled beneath her buttocks. Stepping from the tub, he moved to the bed, dropping her on the edge and thrusting again. A shiver went through her. She lifted her legs to wrap them around his waist and ground herself against him as she arched her head back. He caught her thighs, lifting her legs to his shoulders instead and thrusting again, deeper this time--deeper than she thought possible. His cock slid inside of her then, slamming almost painfully into her womb.
Cutting shards of pleasure sliced into her as he began pounding into her at a furious pace. The cool air barely tempered the feverish heat enveloping her skin in a rising conflagration. Her blood raced, her breath quickened. He thrust into her, groaning with pleasure which she echoed.
He ground against her clit, making her nerve endings riot with pleasurable waves of sensation. She moaned, clutching his back, digging her nails into his flesh and reveling in the feel of his powerful muscles flexing with each forceful thrust. He kissed her collarbone and neck, sucking at the delicate tendons lacing her neck, nipping at her collarbone, laving and kissing her everywhere he could reach. He crawled along her jaw with molten kisses until he reached her lips and covered them with his own. He forced her mouth wide, thrusting his tongue inside to tease and tangle with hers.
She sucked him hungrily, mindless with fervent need. His barely leashed savagery thrilled her, making her wetter with each gliding stroke until she began to sob with need.
His pace quickened, as if sensing her distress, raising her urgency tenfold. He tore his mouth away from her lips, grinding out her name in a rough voice.
Her body responded with equal fervor, racing upward, tightening, coiling for the leap she knew would come. And still she uttered a hoarse cry of keen gladness and surprise as her body began to convulse in hard waves of pleasure. He leaned over her, suckling first one nipple and then the other as the waves crested, broke and crested again.
She felt tight all over, every muscle shaking and trembling as the orgasm danced along her nerves, retreating and advancing until she thought she would explode.
When she went limp and breathless, he withdrew slightly and allowed her legs to slip to the floor. Before she had entirely grasped what he was about, he had rolled her onto her belly and entered her again. She gasped and arched her back, flinging her damp hair back. She gripped the sheets in fingers like claws as he began to thrust again, and her body, which had barely touched down, soared upward again in another race toward explosive release.
Even as she felt his body began to convulsive and his hot seed spilled into her channel, another harder climax caught her in its debilitating grip.
“Oh, Talin,” she cried out, practically screaming his name as she collapsed beneath him.
She was barely conscious when Talin withdrew. As her legs trembled and threatened to give way, he scooped her up and climbed into the bed with her, sprawling half atop her.
She stroked his muscled, tense back soothingly as she caught her breath, enjoying the warm glow that enveloped her in the aftermath of their lovemaking, enjoying the feel of his body on hers. She tangled her fingers in his soft, golden hair, luxuriating in the closeness she felt with him. It dawned on her as she began to drift lazily, however, that there had been a reason why she had lain in wait for Talin, beyond the lovely outcome she had just enjoyed.
Weary from days of little or no sleep, and completely sated, for the moment at least, Talin was drifting blissfully toward sleep when Aliya pierced his bubble of contentment.
Chapter Seventeen
“Talin?”
“Hmmm?”
“Take me to my father,” Aliya whispered coaxingly.
With an effort, Talin lifted one eyelid and stared at her warily. He had not expected it to come to this so soon, and he was not prepared for it. He sighed inwardly. “No.”
She frowned. “I was not asking that you return me to my father,” she said carefully. “My home is with you now. I accept that. It is only that … I think if I can make him understand that I am well treated, that I am willing to stay, he will be willing to consider peace.”
Talin stroked a hand down her soft, curling hair, smoothing it before twining a dark curl around one finger. “Do you?”
The question obviously distracted her, at least momentarily. She cocked her head questioningly.
“Accept?”
Her response was just hesitant enough to remind him of their last argument when she had shaken him by threatening to take a lover if he took a queen--as he would eventually have to, and he realized that he had not adequately considered the vast differences between them. Among his own kind, acceptance of a mate was irrevocable. Once a female had committed herself, she would not look at another and certainly would not allow another mal
e to mate with her. As many times as he had seen the wanton behavior of the man children, he should have realized that they felt no such binding. He supposed he had. He had simply refused to believe that Aliya was the same.
“I have said that I do.”
Talin’s lips tightened. Without a great degree of success, he tried to tamp the anger that pricked at him. He removed his hand from her hair. “He would not believe that. He would think that I had threatened--or frightened--you into begging,” he muttered irritably. “That would only lead him to the mistaken belief that I fear him, which I do not, and he would see it as a weakness he could exploit.”
“He is not like that!” she exclaimed earnestly. “He is a man of reason. He will see that I am … satisfied with you as my husband, and he will withdraw.”
“Accept? Satisfied?” he growled, inexplicably hurt, and angry because he was. “Could you possibly be more tepid in your enthusiasm?”
Aliya stared at him blankly for several moments before her own anger erupted. “He would certainly know I was lying if I began to sing your praises!” she snapped. “He would more likely believe that my mind had snapped if I professed undying devotion for a man who had captured me and forced me to accept him!”
Talin bolted upright and got out of the bed. “I freely admit that I was wrong to steal you from your home, but you and I both know that I did not force myself upon you,” he growled furiously. “You accepted me.”
“I admitted that I did,” she snapped petulantly, crossing her arms over her chest. “But you behave as if that is an insult.”
He stared at her for a long moment, too stunned to speak. Finally, uttering a growl of frustration, he stalked away from the bed and snatched up the clothing he’d discarded. “We are not speaking of the same thing,” he muttered.
“Well, I am certain I do not understand the fine difference!” she snapped, glaring at him when he glanced up from trying to figure out how to get his loincloth straightened.
“You accepted me as your mate. I distinctly heard you say ‘I am yours’ and now you speak as if you simply caved in to the inevitable because you could not avoid it. There is a very great difference between the two and I believe if you will give it a little thought you can figure that out.”
It occurred to Talin as he slammed his chamber door behind him that he had managed to avoid the conversation he had feared Aliya would pry from him, the truth about her ‘dear’ father, but he found little comfort in the fact that he had spared her sensibilities while she had trampled all over his. Shrugging it off, he struggled into his tunic and stalked down stairs to join his men and watch their practice.
One had the audacity to look him over as he exited the palace and smirk.
Talin wiped it off the man’s face with his fist.
He couldn’t help but notice, though, that several men glanced at him curiously as he strode back and forth across the field and then looked away quickly again. Since, from what he could tell, they had all been outside and should not have been able to overhear any part of his most recent argument, he began to wonder what they found so fascinating about his attire.
It wasn’t until he decided to abandon the practice field and go check on his captain that he realized his loincloth felt downright peculiar. Upon examining it, he discovered he had put it on backwards, which not only explained why his troops had found him so fascinating, but was proof positive that the woman was driving him out of his mind!
One look at Solly wiped every other thought from his mind. The man was still pale and so weak he could not even get out his bed. After glancing around the sparse room for something to sit on, Talin grabbed a stool and dragged it up to the bedside. “You are ill?”
“But I will live,” Solly retorted, smiling faintly, “thanks to your quick thinking.”
Talin shrugged it off. “And I live thanks to yours. If you had not caught the spear, I most certainly would have. Tell me how feel,” he ended, changing the subject abruptly back to the wound.
Solly thought it over. “As weak as an infant, though not really ill.”
Talin frowned. “You do feel as if there is poison in your body?”
“Nay. I am certain there is not.”
Talin cupped his chin in one hand, thoughtfully stroking his lower lip with one finger. “The man beast spoke of poison.”
Shrugging, Solly pushed himself upright, leaning back against the head board of his bunk. “Either he was wrong, or they have more than one trick for us.”
Talin smiled wryly. “Thank you for pointing that out. I would have felt much better if I could believe that we had ferreted out the limits of their tricks. But I fear you are right. They will have other unpleasant surprises for us, perhaps something different
for each of the clans to exploit their particular weakness?”
“We have a weakness?” Solly asked, genuinely surprised.
Shaking his head, Talin grimaced. “Beyond arrogance? We are not immortal in the sense that we can not be killed at all. It is only that we are far harder to kill than the man children and thus longer lived. You may be certain that they know all of our weaknesses, perhaps even better than we do. This is not something that abruptly erupted. They have been planning this for a very long time, storing their hatred of us, preparing for it and they have caught us completely off guard.”
Solly frowned. “What of the other clans?”
“I sent couriers to warn them, but it is anyone’s guess if they will pay it any heed. We are none of us on the best of terms. And that is another weakness the man children will be certain to exploit, for they have joined forces against us.”
“To a man, we are still worth ten of them,” Solly pointed out.
“They have twenty … or more. And they have sorcery, as well. The tainted flesh I cut from your body withered before my eyes. There was nothing natural in that. It was magic, the blackest, and if I had not thought to do what I did, very likely your body would have withered just as quickly. We are not facing the possibility of losing one man, or a handful, to the horde. We must plan our strategy carefully else we will be overrun as surely as the clan of the wolf was.”
Solly frowned. “Armor, you think?”
Talin considered it, as he had before, but again dismissed it. “It would weigh us down too much, dangerously so. We would lose speed and agility even if we only used enough to shield the most vulnerable areas of our bodies. Moreover, we can not be certain the sacrifice of maneuverability would even be worth it. The armor the man children wear will not stop a well place arrow or spear.”
Solly nodded thoughtfully, as if he, too, had considered that aspect but had not thought of anything else to suggest. “We are safe here, I believe,” he said musingly.
Talin sent him a questioning look.
“The royal palace is the least accessible of all of your holdings. We should gather our people here to protect the young and the weak.”
Talin stood abruptly and began to pace the room. “I would agree if not for the threat of wizards. We do not know how powerful they might be. I would not like to think that I had gathered everyone together to make it easier for my enemy to destroy my clan.” He waved a hand dismissively.
“For now, we will leave that. Our mountains have always protected us. We will look for them to do so now. I had planned to meet King Andor’s army on the plain below and fight them in hand to hand combat. Now I see that that would have been foolhardy. We would have been overrun by the combined armies of the man children in no time at all, for we would not even have the advantage of our strength in healing with the magic they use.
“I will set the men to building retaining walls along the mountainside and filling them with rocks to be released to protect the palace if we can not turn them away before that. I believe they will come directly here, but there is no guarantee they will not try to take the smaller fortresses first. They will have to prepare also.
“We must make certain that we have plenty of stone for an aerial bomba
rdment, which I hope will drive them away before they is any real threat, but I will feel better, I think if we find a place of safety for those of our clan most vulnerable and least able to defend themselves--the very young, the very old, and females who are with child.”
“What am I to do, Sire?” Solly asked.
Talin studied him for a long moment. “Rest, for now. I will have need of you. When you feel strong enough, you will oversee the fortifications. I will go myself and check the defenses of the other strongholds and then I will find a place of safety for our people.”
* * * *
As stunned as she was by Talin’s outburst, she was more thoughtful than angry after he had gone. She had insulted him. She had no doubt of that. She just wasn’t certain how she had insulted him. She did give his parting shot a good bit of thought, but turn it though she might, she didn’t see the difference.
She began to think there was no difference, that he had deliberately started the argument only to distract her from something else, for, after she thought it over she distinctly recalled that there had been wariness in his eyes when she had first broached the subject of speaking directly with her father. The question was, why did he not want her to speak with her father?
He had suggested that it would reflect badly on his manhood and his honor, but she didn’t believe that he was worried for a moment that anyone would think he was a coward. No one who knew him could think that. She had not known him a full month and she knew he was never hesitant to put himself at the forefront.
He had almost gotten himself killed going into an enemy encampment unarmed and with only Solly at his side. Foolhardy, he might be, but he was certainly not lacking in bravery or spirit!
Undoubtedly, he had only said that to distract her.
She supposed he didn’t trust her. She could not find that she really blamed him. She thought he should have realized by now that she had more honor than to betray him in such a way, but trust was something one felt, an emotion. Like faith, love, and even hate, it did not necessarily follow rules of logic.