The Golden Dynasty f-2

by Kristen Ashley

  “Shahsha, my beautiful ladies,” I breathed when I saw the aloe vera. “Shahsha.”

  They looked at each other, lots of brows raised or knit but this went along with smiles and then they kept busy.

  Once I was out of the bath, all five of them and myself pressed the moisture out of the aloe vera and swiped it carefully on the burned parts of my skin.

  God. Heaven.

  Then I put on a lightweight, short nightie made of sky blue satin. Teetru and Jacanda set jugs of water on the table with soft cloths, Teetru making motions to me to communicate I was to use the jugs if I needed cool compresses.

  I smiled at her, pressed my hand against my mouth and then extended it to her, to Jacanda and to Packa, Beetus and Gaal standing at the cham flaps.

  “Thank you,” I breathed, they nodded and Beetus even hesitantly gave my gesture back to me.

  It was cute so I winked at her. She, being Beetus, giggled and winked back.

  Ghost jumped up on the bed, I winced when she got to me and her paw grazed my skin before Teetru rushed forward, confiscated the cub and said soothing words to me (and Ghost, who she was taking with her) on her way out.

  The minute the flaps closed behind them, I collapsed on the silk sheet and stared at the ceiling of the tent.

  One day down. Tomorrow, hopefully I would wake up at home and this sunburn would be a memory of the coma I was kind of hoping in a sick way I was in.

  If not, I’d tackle the next day, again, one step at a time.

  * * * * *

  I woke when my thighs were gently pushed apart, my eyes opened, my body started and then I felt Lahn’s mouth between my legs.

  Oh man, he hadn’t done this before.

  “Lahn,” I whispered, scooting up to get away from him but his big hands shoved under my ass, his long fingers curled around at my hips and he held me to him. “Lahn,” I called but he made no noise, just kept working me.

  I twisted my hips but he held on and then what he was doing penetrated.

  God. I didn’t want it to feel good but, fuck me, he wasn’t good at this; he was great at it.

  “God, Lahn,” I breathed as my body melted and it did this against my will.

  He lifted me at the hips and sucked my clit hard and any will I had against what he was doing evaporated. My hips jerked. Then they started rubbing against his mouth, I couldn’t stop it, I didn’t try. It felt that good, so good; I didn’t want it to stop. No, I wanted more. So I rubbed harder, more demanding and my hands went into his thick, soft, long hair to hold him to me.

  But he wasn’t going anywhere and he gave it to me harder, he didn’t stop, his mouth worked me until he got what he was working for and in getting it, he gave me fireworks.

  “Lahn!” I cried as he made me come against his mouth and I was still coming when he surged over me, pulling the nightgown with him, over my head it went and then it was away and a second later, Lahn was inside me, filling me and damn, but I loved taking his cock.

  My eyes opened after I came down and I saw he had both hands in the bed beside me, none of his weight on me, just his hips moving, slow, steady, delicious, between my legs. His head was bent and his eyes were on me.

  I looked up at the painted warrior fucking me and as I did I thought he was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. Fascinated by his streaks, I lifted a hand and trailed it down the paint at the center of his chest, down his abs and to the hair between his legs.

  “Kah quaxi, nahna quaxi,”*** he grunted, his hips rotating as he slid back in and my neck arched as my eyes closed.

  Wow, whatever that was he did with his hips that felt good.

  “Kah quaxi, Lahnahsahna Circe, nahna quaxi,” he grunted, his hips rotated the other way, that felt better and he kept taking me, slow and sweet.

  My eyes opened and my hand slid back up his belly to his chest as I breathed, “Baby.”

  That must have been what he was looking for because he lowered his body to mine and I took his heat on my fevered, burning skin and didn’t care. I simply wound my limbs around him, pulling him closer.

  “Ruhnoo kah quaxi, Circe, ruhnoo kah xac,”****

  “Yes,” I whispered as his hips rotated again and his thrusts got marginally faster. “Mayoo, Lahn.”

  “Me,” he denied. “Ruhnoo kah quaxi.”

  “Okay,” I breathed as the slow burn built.

  “Ruhnoo kah xac, kah Lahnahsahna,” he growled.

  “Yes,” I repeated, lifting my hips to receive all of him and he gave it to me, slow, slow, then faster and faster until we were both breathing heavily, I knew I was close again and the whole time his painted black eyes never left mine.

  “Lahn,” I whispered when it started, my limbs getting tighter, my hands, which had been roaming his back, his ass, his shoulders, his arms, clenched him to me.

  “Ruhnoo kay,” he grunted, putting power behind his thrusts, my frame jerking with them and that was it. My body arced from the small of my back to my head, pressing into his as an orgasm as slow and sweet as his lovemaking swept through me.

  Then I kept taking him, his face now in my neck, his driving cock jerking me with every thrust, his grunts sounding against my skin until he pounded in slow, his hips rotating with each thrust, again and again and again as he groaned in my neck.

  He stayed still for long moments before he pulled out and slid off, his slick skin gliding against mine.

  Then he was on his side, head in hand, elbow in the pillows, one leg cocked with his foot in the bed, the other leg the length of mine (and longer). He watched in the candlelight as his hand slid through the black paint he’d transferred to me, over my chest, between my breasts, down, down, between my legs then his finger slid over my clit, making my hips jerk lightly and a noise escaped my throat.

  His sexy, sated eyes came to mine and his hand moved back up, now trailing our combined wetness through the paint on my skin to come to rest light on my belly.

  “Kah quaxi, nahna quaxi,” he whispered and I had no idea what that meant but whatever it was, it was important to him.

  “Okay,” I said softly.

  “No,” he whispered back and leaned an inch into me, “good.”

  I wished he wouldn’t be like this, for instance, great in bed and sometimes so damned sweet.

  “Right,” I muttered, “good.”

  He grinned at me, bent his head and ran his tongue along my shoulder. Then he settled down on his side but not on me like the last two nights, just beside me. He grabbed my hand, cocked my arm and held it against his chest but that was it.

  He was minding the burn.

  Shit, shit, he could be sweet.

  Damn.

  Then again, I reminded myself, I wouldn’t have the burn if it wasn’t for him.

  I turned my head to look at him.

  “Trahyoo, kah fauna,” he whispered, his hand pressing mine to his chest.

  There it was again, kah fauna. His doe. Now I had three. Not knowing what it meant, it felt nice. Knowing what it meant, it felt freaking great.

  Damn.

  “All right, Lahn,” I whispered back, he tipped his chin back and closed his eyes.

  I looked at the ceiling and closed my eyes.

  And I decided one of my steps if I woke up here tomorrow was going to be avoiding my king. And I’d keep taking that step until I figured out some way to get myself home.

  Because if I didn’t, I knew all would be lost.

  *Translation: “No Geoffrey, Circe. The King commands it, you understand?”

  **Translation: “You and me. Gold and paint. King and Queen. Tiger and Tigress. Your gold is on my body now. My paint will be on your body tonight, my Circe.”

  ***Translation: “My paint, your paint.”

  ****Translation: “Take my paint, Circe, take my cock.”

  Chapter Ten

  Sunstroke

  My body’s uncontrollable shaking woke me and about a second later, it woke Lahn.

  “Circe?” he called, ge
tting up on an elbow in the bed and looking down at me, his hand still holding mine at his chest.

  Sunstroke. My skin was chill at the same time it was burning, it was tight and it hurt like hell.

  I turned my head to look at him and saw his face awash with concern.

  My body was shaking so hard the bed was moving with it and I felt shit but neither of those took away from the fact that that look made him more beautiful than ever.

  “Sunstroke, baby,” I whispered.

  “Sunstroke?” he asked and seriously, feeling crap and needing to explain why was not a good time not to be able to communicate.

  I looked to the tent flaps to see weak sun washing through. It was nearly dawn.

  Then I looked back at Lahn. “Diandra,” I whispered as the shaking turned to quaking and my teeth started chattering.

  He noticed, his brows drew together under narrow eyes and he growled, “Circe.”

  I clenched his hand. “Sunstroke, it’s just sunstroke, Lahn. I need water.” He glared at me with no comprehension. “Shit!” I snapped in frustration and the tremors gliding over my skin didn’t feel nice. “Baby, get Diandra for me so she can translate.”

  He looked at my body, mumbled something, let my hand go and then instantly jerked the silk sheet out from under me. Then he threw it over me and its coolness felt nice and tortuous at the same time.

  He rolled off the bed on the other side and I chattered, “Wah… water,” to him.

  He didn’t go to the jugs. He went to the tent flaps, slapped one back and thundered, “Teetru!”

  “Lahn! Water, honey, please,” I begged as he walked to the pile of hides, tossed aside the pillows so forcefully they flew across the tent then he seized the top hide and came to me.

  I was holding onto the top of the sheet and shaking my head as he stalked to me and carefully draped the hide over my body.

  “No, too much weight, too much heat,” I whispered but his head turned to the tent flaps as Teetru stuck her head in and he paid no attention to me.

  He barked orders at her, her eyes came to me then she rushed out of the tent she hadn’t fully entered.

  Luckily, in his orders I heard Diandra’s husband’s name.

  He turned and scowled down at me. I’d moved an arm outside the hide and was trying to shove it off.

  “Too heavy, baby, too hot,” I semi-repeated but he wrapped his fingers around my wrist, gently pushed my arm back under the hides and my eyes flew to him. “No, Lahn.”

  “Yes, Circe,” he growled.

  Okay, I’d give up on that.

  I heard the tent flaps open and Jacanda, Beetus and Packa came in, wearing worried looks.

  “Water,” I said, tipping my head to the jugs, Jacanda caught it and hurried to the water. “Yes,” I whispered and kept quaking.

  Jacanda poured water and rushed to me but didn’t make it. Lahn snatched the cup out of her hand, sat on the bed beside me, wrapped his other hand around the back of my neck, gently lifting me, and put the cup to my lips.

  I drank.

  Hydration good.

  He kept tipping it to my lips until my eyes lifted to his indicating I was done and he took it away, lowering me back to the pillows.

  Then he growled something at me and the only word I understood was my name at the end.

  “I’ll be okay,” I assured him.

  “Not okay,” he fired back and kept scowling.

  I bit my lip then I dropped my eyes and realized he was buck naked.

  “Lahn,” I said when my eyes returned to his dark ones that were still painted, “put some pants on.”

  He started his next sentence with “Lahnahsahna Circe…” but the rest of it I had no clue except it had the exact cadence of me telling him I didn’t understand what he was saying.

  I gave him a shaky smile, pulled my arm from under the hides and ran my fingertips up his naked thigh to his also naked hip.

  “Pants, hides, you need to put something on,” I said quietly.

  He kept scowling then he surged up, stalked to the table, slammed the cup on it then he went to his hides and yanked them on.

  Okay, that went better.

  The tent flaps opened, Gaal rushed through followed by a small, round woman with lots of dark hair mixed with gray and she was carrying a small trunk. She looked like she’d had fun that night and had been interrupted in sleeping it off. I guessed this because her complexion was gray and she was wearing what I would assume was a Korwahk-style nightshirt, short, off-white gauze, strapless, shapeless, held up over her breasts by a drawstring tied tight at the front.

  Um… that wasn’t Diandra.

  Lahn bit some words off at her; she nodded and rushed to me.

  “Hey,” I greeted after she bent and put the trunk on the ground by the bed and turned to me.

  “Kah rahna Dahksahna hahla,” she muttered, her eyes moving over my face, my shoulders, she carefully lifted the hide and sheet and peered under them then she just as carefully dropped them, turned to Lahn and started talking.

  He was standing with his arms crossed on his chest, feet planted wide and eyes piercing her with ferocity and whatever she was saying made his dark glower darker.

  She kept talking and he kept glowering.

  Then the tent flaps opened and Diandra rushed through followed by a large, older warrior who, like Lahn, had to bend to enter. Teetru followed them.

  “Dahksahna Circe!” Diandra cried, seeing me quaking. “What on earth?”

  “Too much sun, Diandra, sunstroke. It’s nothing. I just need water and I’ll be fine. Tell Lahn,” I informed her; she nodded, turned and spoke to Lahn.

  He spoke back in clipped tones and she nodded and looked at me.

  “He has never heard of this, my dear.”

  I shook my head. “Well, he wouldn’t. You all live in the sun. Where I come from, we do not. My skin isn’t used to that kind of sun. My entire system isn’t used to it. I tried to tell him, but –”

  She cut me off by turning to Lahn and speaking.

  His glower got even darker.

  Then he barked something at the woman standing by the bed, she said something in return and Diandra spoke to me.

  “He’s told the healer to fix you. She’s going to give you something that will dull the pain and help you sleep. She understands what this is and says there’s nothing for it but time.”

  Lahn was still snarling at the healer and the healer was replying.

  “She’s right,” I said to Diandra but Diandra lifted a hand to me and I was quiet, she was listening.

  Then she looked from Lahn to me and started talking and I could tell she was summing it up for Lahn and the healer said far more words than she translated. “He wants you fixed, she says she can’t. The Dax isn’t happy, my queen.”

  Well, anyone could see that.

  “Tell him it’ll be all right. I’ve had this before. I got too much sun during a vacation in Mexico and I just need to sleep and stay out of the sun a couple of days.”

  Her brows knit at my words but she nodded, turned to Lahn and spoke. He spoke back and then snarled something at the healer who instantly bent to her box.

  “What?” I asked Diandra and she looked at me.

  She shrugged. “He wants you fixed.”

  “I will be… in time,” I replied. “Please explain that to him.”

  “He doesn’t care, my queen,” she returned.

  “But –”

  She stepped forward. “Dahksahna Circe, the Dax did this to you. He knows it. He feels guilt. This is not a feeling he understands or knows how to cope with. He might not even understand what it is. Let the healer put you to sleep. The quaking will stop; he will think it’s fixed. Just let him think he found a cure for you.”

  I stared at her. Then I whispered, “Oh, all right.”

  The healer was at the table, pouring water and tapping some white powder into it from a folded piece of paper. Then she set that aside, picked up a squat, bulbous bottle
and tapped some other powder into the cup. Then she swirled the cup in her hand as she brought it to me.

  Again, she didn’t make it. Lahn was there, taking the cup, more gently this time, sitting beside me, doing the hand around my neck lifting thing again and he held the cup to my lips, removing it at intervals for me to swallow, then back and again until I drank it all. The liquid was bitter and didn’t taste good at all but I forced it down.

  “Shahsha, Lahn,” I whispered when he took the cup away for good and lowered me back to the pillows.

  “Nahrahka, kah Lahnahsahna,” Lahn whispered back and my eyes slid to Diandra.

  “What did she give me?” I asked.

  “A sleeping draft mixed with something to dull the pain. It’s from nature, my dear, not witchcraft. I’ve had it before. It works fast and it’s safe. I promise.”

  I nodded and clutched the hides around me in an effort to control the shaking.

  Lahn handed the glass to the healer and barked more orders. The man with Diandra, who I was assuming was her husband, Seerim, put his arm around her and guided her away after she and I exchanged nods. My girls drifted out after I gave them reassuring smiles. The healer said a few words to Lahn, left the squat, green, corked bottle filled with white powder on the table, she grabbed her trunk and hurried out.

  Lahn took his hides off and slid under the sheet at the other side of the bed. Moving toward me, he turned me to him and gathered my still shaking body in his arms.

  I pressed my hands to his chest and whispered, “I’ll be all right, Lahn. I’ll be okay.”

  “Yes, okay, Circe,” he agreed on a light squeeze.

  I nodded my head against the pillows. “Yes, honey, okay.”

  “Honey,” he repeated on another squeeze.

  I sighed.

  Okay, Lahn could be a dick, a big one, but when you were sick, he didn’t like that and he didn’t fuck around in finding a way to make you better.

  Shit.

  About five minutes later, my lids got heavy and the quaking turned to mild tremors.

  “Okay, Circe, good,” Lahn muttered, drawing me nearer.

  I forced my eyes open, tipped my head back, saw his bearded chin was dipped down and his painted eyes were on my face.