She wanted to let her gaze trail down to follow his muscles to the line of his black pants and wonder at what it might lead to. He wasn’t bulky. He wasn’t a hulking mass like Ash and most of the other slahundur. But there was such a wonderful, nearly feline grace to his movements, that for a moment, she was caught up in seeing him simply move.
He was a work of art.
He was beautiful.
She wanted him. Very badly. But it was wrong. He was wrong. Accepting him—accepting her desire for him—that she might even like him, meant that there was something to be redeemed about the Dread God and his drengil. And that was something she didn’t know if she could accept. Shaking her head, she tightened her grip on her spear.
“See? Right there. That’s what I’m talking about.” He pointed at her as he continued to circle her, sizing her up. “You’re not used to being around people. You don’t know how to hide your emotions. Neither do I, I guess.” He smirked. “Since I lived behind a mask for most of my life, statistically speaking, anyway. But I see how you look at me. And then how upset it makes you.”
“All my life, I’ve fought against—”
“The drengil. I know. The devastation that they wrought. And I am them, now. And I seek to do the same thing. But Under is a cancer, Ember. We are nothing but a society of perverts who relish cruelty and death. We bring nothing to anyone but misery and suffering. We all need to die. All of us. Myself, included.”
“Why bother with me, then? Why go through all this trouble? The dinner. The conversation. The…kindness. Why?”
“I—” He paused. For a moment, he stopped his circling of her. He looked up at the starry night sky—if it even counted as a night, if there never was a day—and pondered his answer for a long moment. “Because it feels real. Because you feel real. And because I’ve never had anything real in my entire life. In thousands of years. Can you even fathom that? In thousands of years, nothing was real. It was all a lie. Supplicants and courtiers, begging for favors.”
He sneered in disgust. “Begging for my attention, claiming that they loved me. And when I did the unthinkable in their name? Oh, how quick they were to toss me aside. But you. This. Whatever this is between us? It’s…real. And I need it. I need something in my life to have been tangible, Ember. To have not been a failure. Even if it is just you, and me, and this moment in time.”
That cut her to the quick. She watched him, and…she felt the same. Oh, sure, she had never had devotees bowing at her feet, kissing the floor she walked on, worshipping her in the same way that people had treated him. She had also failed.
Perhaps they weren’t so different after all.
No. No, no, no. He’s destroying the world! Murdering millions. I can’t be okay with this. I can’t.
He was giving her a chance to stop him. It was a carrot on the end of a stick—one she couldn’t ever hope to reach. But it was there, all the same. So, like the idiot donkey that she was, she would reach out her neck and try her damnedest. “Okay.”
“You’ll let me fuck you?” He grinned.
“I’ll fight you.”
“So…you’ll let me fuck you.” He cackled. “Great!”
With a growl, she swung the end of her spear for his head. He ducked under her swing and, in an instant, he was right next to her. He checked her in the side with his elbow, sending her staggering back a step.
“Ah-ah! Cheap shot, Ember darling.” He ran his hands through his long, platinum hair and cracked his neck. “And you opened yourself up for attack. Drengil are stupid and mindless. You’re killing cattle. I’m not a zombie. Well.” He paused. “Not like that, at any rate.”
“And I’m not a fighter. I’m a medic.”
“All right. Well, then, consider this your first lesson.” He watched her for a moment. Darting toward her, he went for another strike. She blocked and jumped backward, trying to keep space between them. “First problem—widen your stance.”
“What?”
“Widen your stance.” He showed her what he meant. “Like this.” He even held up an invisible spear in front of him. “You’re too easy to throw off balance. One good hit, and you’ll go down. You need to be able to recover when I hit you.”
“If.”
“When.” He proved his point. He moved toward her. She swung her spear. He ducked, got under her arm, and tapped his fist into her side. He didn’t punch her. He wasn’t trying to hurt her. But he could have easily knocked her to the ground. When she staggered away from him again, he smiled. “See?”
Growling, she went on the offensive. Swinging her spear, she went for his midsection. He jumped back, dodging her like she wasn’t a threat in the world. Swing after swing, he moved around the arc effortlessly. It looked almost as if he were dancing, like it was some choreographed event. Meanwhile, she felt clumsy. Loud. Slow.
Snarling in frustration, she swung again. That time, he grabbed the spear. “Now you’re getting mad. Never get mad in a fight. Angry means sloppy. That’s lesson two.” He yanked, and before she even knew what was happening, her back was pressed against his chest. The spear was under her chin, and he was pulling up on it, nearly cutting off her air. She could breathe, but she had to tilt her head all the way back to his shoulder to do it. She knew that was entirely the point.
Rxa leaned his head down and licked her cheek. “Mmmh…Do you give up yet?”
“No!” She stomped on his bare foot as hard as she could.
Grimacing in pain, he let her go and stepped back, hopping on one foot. “Ow! I—Whoa!” He narrowly ducked a swing of her spear that was meant for his head. Laughing, he took a few steps back and applauded her. “Nicely done.”
She squared off against him again, this time widening her stance.
Grinning, his eyes glittered with entertainment and pleasure. “And such a quick study. Lesson three—you’re armed, I’m not. Your spear is a benefit, but it’s also a detriment. You can’t fight close. I can. You have to decide when to use it, and when not to. Protect your core at all costs. Not your weapon.”
He rushed at her, and she fought the urge to swipe at him with the end of her spear. Instead, she jumped back, and when he went to punch her in the side, knocked his arm out of the way with hers.
And then she clocked him in the forehead with the body of the spear near her right hand.
He grunted and, stepping back, rubbed the spot where she had nailed him. “Yup. Just like that.” Rolling his shoulders, she heard them crack and pop loudly. “All right. Good. Now let’s start for real.”
“W—” She wanted to ask him what he meant. Or maybe to say “wait.” But she got neither thing out. Rxa came at her with such ferocity that she didn’t even have a chance to think. She could only react. She blocked what hits she could. She made what hits she could. She tried not to feel when he struck her.
He was pulling his punches. He wasn’t trying to harm her. She knew she’d have broken bones and shattered ribs if he had meant to strike her for real. But they still stung. She spent most of her time on defense or being slowly circled by the madman as he sized her up before swooping in for another volley.
But now and then, she did manage to get a good one on him. She knew when she had, when he looked at her in shock with a growl and an approving, pleased grin. As if he was equal parts proud and angry.
She was sweating. Her heart was pounding in her ears like a drum. Adrenaline was flooding her body, ridding her of any of the comfort of the wine they had drunk.
She did her best.
But like always…
Her best wasn’t good enough.
No matter how hard she tried, it never mattered in the end.
With a swipe of his hand, he knocked the spear from her. It was his first real show of strength. It flew into a tree nearby, sticking several inches into the wood. He prowled toward her, slowly, like the killer animal that he was, a sick and sadistic grin on his face. “That was a lovely appetizer. Now how about we move on to the main course?” His
voice was husky, and thick with…lust. Because he wanted to rip her to pieces and consume her, or because he wanted her in other ways, she didn’t know.
Both.
He wasn’t even breathing hard. All that she had done, and he hadn’t even broken a sweat. Meanwhile, her limbs felt like jelly. She felt like she had run miles in front of a horde of hungering corpses. And he was untouched.
Ember turned to run.
She wasn’t a coward.
But she also wasn’t an idiot.
She made it exactly six inches before she tripped over the root of an overgrown shrub that she hadn’t known was there. The ground rushed up toward her, and she smacked into the dirt hard. She tasted blood instantly. She had split her lip on a rock as she had fallen. Groaning in pain, she pushed up onto her elbows.
But she wasn’t there for long. A split second later, she was flat on her back, staring up at Rxa wide-eyed as he straddled her thighs and pinned her down. “Wait!”
“I win. You turned your back on me. Not my fault the bush got the K.O.” He cackled. “Thank you, shrubbery,” he said to the plant before looking back down at her. “And if I win, you know what that means.”
“No—I—No! Get off me!” She swiped at him, trying to punch him. Trying to do anything. But it was useless.
Rxa caught her wrists and pinned them down to the ground over her head. “I might not be the King of Chains of anymore, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have a few tricks up my sleeve.” Trapping her wrists beneath one hand, he gestured the other, and in his palm was a length of rope. “You tied me up. I never did get to really return the favor.”
“Let me go, Rxa. Let me go right now!”
“Nope. And you can yell as much as you want. This was the deal.” He lashed her wrists together. She watched, helpless to do anything but kick and shout as he summoned a knife to his hand—her knife—and dug it through the loops of rope. He shoved it deep into the dirt.
She was trapped. He sat back to examine his work as she struggled uselessly. She couldn’t budge her hands, and he was sitting on her thighs. She snarled in anger and thrashed, but it was no use.
He cackled at her efforts, smiling down at her as if he had done nothing more than beat her at a hand of cards. “Do you know how hard it is to fight with a raging hard-on?” His laughter faded to a chuckle as he began to run his hands up along her body, starting at her waist. He kept it over her clothes. For now. “I have no clue how Edu does it!”
She squirmed, trying to twist out of his reach. But she had nowhere to go. “Rxa—”
“Shh.” He drifted his touch up over her chest to the collar of her shirt. In one movement, revealing how strong he truly was, he ripped her shirt in half. The loud tearing of fabric made her jolt, and she froze in fear.
For a moment, she had forgotten how easily he could kill her. He ripped the sleeves of her shirt and tossed the ruined fabric away. She was topless, save for the wraps she used to secure her breasts.
And she knew they wouldn’t last long.
But something else seemed to have caught his attention. He was staring at her. He lowered himself over her, sliding his length down her body, careful to position himself in such a way that she couldn’t knee him in the groin. Which was smart because that had absolutely been her plan.
What was he after?
When he touched her chin, and turned her face to his, she realized what it was.
Her split lip.
Blood had begun to run down her chin and her neck. She hadn’t even paid it any mind. A split lip wasn’t uncommon, and it certainly wasn’t life threatening. Why would she care?
But as she saw his fangs extend, and a low, feral growl came rumbling out of his chest that sent a shiver up her spine…she remembered exactly why she should care.
He bent his head closer to hers, and she felt his hot tongue trace her throat, licking up the trail of blood.
A gasp left her against her wishes. But she couldn’t help it. And it was then, and only then, that she realized…her body felt like it was on fire. He wasn’t the only one affected by their fight.
So was she. Desire crashed over her like a wave, set free from behind the dam she had tried to shore it up behind. But it was no use. The levy was broken, and now she was drowning beneath the wave of it.
She had fought him knowing she was going to lose.
She had fought him…almost wanting to lose.
There was no way she could ever give in to him. No way she could ever surrender to what she wanted. He knew that. And that was why he was going to take it from her.
Good.
No!
She wanted to scream at him. To shout at him to stop. To let her go. To say that this was wrong. But nothing left her except a small whimper as he licked and kissed away the blood that had run from her lip, inching closer to the source.
When his face hovered near hers, he ran his tongue along the small cut on her lip. That wonderful and sensual purr radiated from him as he did. He pulled away, watching her for a long moment, as if considering something.
Damn him.
If he was going to take from her? She could take something from him in return.
Lifting her head to his…she kissed him.
24
Ember kissed him.
She kissed him.
Rxa froze. He couldn’t help it. The feeling of her lips against his—so soft, so sweet, so tender. Eyes wide, shocked at her gesture, he didn’t know what to do.
When she broke the embrace, she rested her head back in the grass of the courtyard. He had loved the idea of taking her here, outdoors, like the wild animal he felt as though he had become. It was far away from the candles and silk sheets of his old life. This was raw—primal—honest.
But then…she had kissed him.
Of all the things he had expected she’d do—struggle, scream, cry, kick, moan, plead for more and for mercy—that hadn’t been on his list. Her eyes flicked between his, searchingly. As if trying to read his response. The beautiful creature looked uncertain and afraid, as if wondering if she had offended him.
Him.
Who was about to ravage her.
But she had taken something in return, hadn’t she? He was going to get his payment. And it seemed she wasn’t going to let him have it without spending something as well. Did she take from me? Or has she given me something more valuable instead?
He licked his lips. He could almost taste her there.
Lowering himself farther, leaning on his elbow, he slipped his other hand to the back of her neck, fingers tangling in her beautiful, bi-colored hair. Ghosting his lips over hers, he felt her trembling beneath him.
“You’re mine now,” he whispered. “You stole my kiss. You took something very valuable to me. Now I will never, ever let you go.”
And with that, he crashed his lips against hers.
Rxa kissed her like a man possessed. And perhaps he was. She moaned against him, unable to help it. He was violent and tender, sensual and sweet, rough and gentle, bruising and loving. He bounced between the extremes so quickly that she could hardly keep up. It was as though he wanted to experience everything he had missed in the past all at once.
When he slipped his tongue into her mouth, she had no say in the matter. He didn’t ask permission. He took. And she surrendered, letting him invade her. She moaned again, and was answered by a deep, rumbling growl from him that vibrated through her.
It made her head spin. She writhed beneath him, unable to sit still, pulling on the ropes that kept her arms bound over her head. She felt overheated, and he wasn’t helping by robbing her breath from her lungs.
When he finally broke away after what seemed like an eternity, she was reeling, chest heaving as she tried to fill her lungs. He chuckled, licking at her lower lip. It was swollen from his attentions. “Beautiful…”
And then he began again. Giving her just enough time to breathe before he kissed her, growling louder as he pressed his body to hers. She coul
d feel him there—all of him. Her stomach dropped in fear and anticipation in equal measure. She knew what he was going to do. She knew she couldn’t stop him.
And by the mercy of the old gods…that excited her even more.
There was so much power in his embrace. So much certainty in the way he ground his hips into hers, teasing them both and promising what was going to surely follow.
He sat up, leaving her, and he laughed, letting out a long rush of air. “Oh, by the stars, that’s good.” He grinned down at her, licking his lower lip again. “I’ve been missing out. I knew our damn masks were stupid.” He shuddered and chuckled. “I hope I wasn’t too miserable for you.”
“Rxa—wait—please—” she gasped out between desperate breaths.
“No. You’re mine, Ember.” He shifted, grabbing her by the thighs and moving to kneel between her legs. With a frightened squeak, she struggled, which only made him laugh harder. “So much protest! Yes, fight me every step of the way. I want to feel the moment you give in.”
“No—stop it!” Snarling, she kicked at him. But he was so damn strong. He forced her legs apart and settled himself over her again. There was nothing she could do. Nothing except feel him—thankful for the clothes between them—as he pressed himself to her core and ground himself against her, miming what was to come. “I—” Her protests broke off as a rush of pleasure crashed over her.
Oh, gods. Help me. Why is this happening? Why do I want this?
“That’s it,” he purred as he repeated the gesture, rolling his hips against hers, the friction blissful even through the layers of fabric between them. “Look at you—your cheeks red, gasping for air—squirming in pleasure and anticipation.”
“Fuck you.”
“That’s the plan.” He snickered. “You’re so angry. I love it. I wonder how long I’ll have to fuck you before you start begging me for more. Trust me, darling, I can go a long time.”
Grave of Words (Fall of Under Book 2) Page 21