Shadows of the Night (Kingdom Key Book 2)

by TylerRose.

  “Damn straight!”

  “Shhh. Use a softer voice for a change,” he said, reaching up behind her to find the zipper and pull it down enough for the dress to come with it.

  He stopped and she bent over to push the dress down her legs. Before she could stand, he took her by a forearm to lean her over his thigh.

  “I was advised to start with this,” he said, and began a full-hand spanking that ranged all over her bottom.

  Medium force, moderately fast, on the edge of painful, he kept on until she relaxed over his leg and lay fully on the bed. Her white skin had warmed and turned a lovely rosy pink. As Shestna had said to do, Dorn ramped up his force and his speed and spanked so hard he could see the shape of his hand left behind. She flinched, yelping when it hurt most.

  He noticed that her legs had begun to tremble for having to hold herself up. He stopped, lifted her with the intention of leaning her backwards over his other leg. Instead, she fell against his chest as she had in the street the other night, arms around his waist.

  “Thank you.”

  “For what?” he asked.

  “Making it quiet.”

  She crawled off him and onto the bed, lying on her back. He removed the rest of his clothes to lie beside her a moment and trail a pointed fingernail over and around her breasts. Most Voranian females were flat until they became pregnant. This constant abundance was something to marvel over and enjoy.

  “Why are we really having a party today?” she asked, eyes closed with the quiet of her mind.

  “Our father commands you and Shestna must have a brief ceremony of words that can be shown when needed. It is true you wear the beads and I was there to witness your taking of the flower and his bestowing of the beads; but a public ceremony with many dozens of witnesses is harder to refute. Then your diplomatic immunity cannot be disputed.”

  “What is the ceremony?” she asked.

  He told her. She only nodded her acceptance and reached down to his penile rim to do that pinchie-thing she’d done to Shestna when she was ready to have him. Dorn unexpectedly grasped her wrist painfully tight.

  “Let go.”

  Her finger and thumb released him.

  “Do not do that again,” he said, putting her arm over her head. “I don’t like it.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I do not like a female to directly initiate intercourse. I am the dominant element here. I decide when I will have a female. She does not decide for me. There are ways to indicate you are ready without being vulgar and aggressive.”

  She stretched her other arm up to cross her wrists like Nails so often liked her to do. “Is this better?”

  “Much,” he said, “I am told you cannot conceive at this time. This is true?”

  “I cannot conceive for another…I forget how many weeks. The doctor on the station knows. They’ll call me when I need to go back for the next dose.”

  “If you are allowed to get another dose,” he said, moving into position. “Your husband will make that decision.”

  His cock eased out of its sheath and into her. She felt the fullness of him, the pressure growing against her cervix. She gasped a shuddering breath with the near orgasmic sensation. He didn’t use full hip thrusts, didn’t retract most of the way to extend fully as Shestna did. He preferred to remain within, retracting halfway to shoot back out with a force that stole her breath.

  He paused, pressing deep against her cervix. “Look at me.”

  He waited for her eyes to open and find his.

  “Shestna is the one you go to when you want to be coaxed into surrender. When you want love and patience of a husband. Go to him when you want a pleasure beating. I will expect you to surrender from start to finish. Come to me when you want it to really hurt.”

  The steady pressure on her cervix brought her to an eruption of an orgasm and he resumed thrusting. Several minutes as she came down from her climax and started to build again and he paused once more.

  “Look at me.” H waited for her to do so. “He has difficulty setting rules for you and enforcing them, always has when truly in love. I will make the rules for you to live by. I will enforce them. I will correct you as needed and I will punish you when warranted. Rule number one: He and I are your only lovers from now on. There will be a punishment—a real punishment you won’t get off on—if you disobey.”

  “Why are you—“

  “Shh!” he cut her off. “When we are alone, you will not use that tone. Do not use your full voice. Speak softly, as is proper for a Voranian wife. You are going to be here for some time. You must integrate and be part of the society. As 1st Princess and 1st Daughter, you must be the example to all of a good Voranian wife. Exceptions cannot and will not be made for you anymore. When you are out of line, I will put you back. It starts right now. I respect your skills as a warrior. Please respect your husband and be what is required of you. Otherwise, it could be argued that your marriage was only for the saving of your life and not because you are devoted to and love him.”

  They held a long gaze while she absorbed his meanings. He was right. She had to be a real Voranian wife. Their marriage had been—once again—a matter of expedience. Loving one another had been secondary. They might not ever have married permanently if not for Earnol sending men to kidnap her.

  “If you would like to, I do enjoy a very forceful sodomy.”

  “How forceful?” he asked.

  “I’ve not yet had any man be too forceful. That’s not a challenge, only a statement of fact. I’m not really looking for that edge. Just haven’t found it.”

  He withdrew to lie beside her, lifting her by the upper thigh to turn her bottom towards himself. Cautious penetration to be sure of his angle, leaving the anchors in their sockets, he found he enjoyed her tremble and initial struggle.

  His hand tight around her throat, claw tips digging in, tilting her head far upward against his chest, he filled her anus to his longest extension. Groaning a heavy breath, she all but melted in his arms.

  “Tell me, female. Do you go willingly to your wedding? Or must I beat you into submission?”

  “I don’t think I need a beating. Fucking me into submission sounds wonderful, though.”

  What was that line about being careful what you wish for? She certainly got it. Putting her onto her belly to use hips for thrusting, she pushed up to her knees to offer her wet sex. Holding her down at the shoulder with a claw that stopped just short of piercing he lined up to penetrate again. He was shockingly strong, letting her scream, letting her orgasm.

  He did not stop when she made distressed whining sounds. Her sounds did not matter much when her knees parted wider and she rocked backwards with equal force to take more of him. She gasped “YES!” before exploding out another of those watery ejaculations. The bed was rapidly becoming soaked beneath her.

  “Fuck yes!” she grunted.

  He paused, remaining deep until her orgasm ended. Bending over her rump to lower himself to her.

  “I’m going to punish you for that word later, in the presence of your brand new husband. He will watch me discipline you, unable to stop me from doing it because I am the Tribulator he has chosen. I will enjoy teaching you your proper place.”

  “I’m sure you will. Are you done? This is just getting good.”

  No, he wasn’t done. Not by a longshot. He continued with the same force until her legs were sapped of all strength and she had to lower her pelvis to the bed. They heard the bell strike the hour and he paused.

  “Be seen Neverseen.”

  The male appeared. “How may I serve, Your Highness?”

  “You will go to the market and tell Prince Shestna that we are delayed. The female is not yet prepared.”

  The Neverseen vanished. Dorn resumed with renewed strength, his knees forcing her thighs wide apart on the mattress. She had ceased her incessant screaming and fussing, made barely a sound beyond a soft whimpering. She could no longer lift her head, no longer made fists in
the sheets.

  “Do you hate it yet?” he asked.

  “No,” she whispered. “More.”

  “No.”

  His ejaculate pumped through his member in pulses and he withdrew to descend into the bathing pool a few feet away. She lay silently while he cleaned his cock and rinsed his entire body.

  “Be seen Neverseen.”

  The male had returned from his errand, and got a towel for the Prince.

  “Bathe Her Highness where she lies. She’s not going to be getting up for a while,” Dorn told him, wrapping the towel around his waist.

  “Awfully sure of yourself on that,” Tyler said, and pushed up from the bed.

  “Sitting up is one thing, walking quite another. Get those razors off her fingernails.”

  He had her there. She couldn’t move her legs. She could feel them, they weren’t numb. They simply didn’t respond to her brain’s commands. She couldn’t lift a foot, couldn’t even lift a hip to butt-walk toward the edge of the bed.

  Dorn grasped her by the hair and pulled sideways and down, the power within him washing over her. Her arms lost strength and she went over until he pinned her on her back. He bent over.

  “Kiss me.”

  She could lift her head just enough to press her mouth to his.

  “This is why Jerome could not come with you. He knew nothing about the crystal energy and there was no one to teach him. He knew nothing about what he could do with it. You won’t be able to walk for some time. A litter chair is waiting outside the front door. Your men will carry you to it once you are dressed.”

  The Neverseen returned with finger sized plastic sleeves. Inside each was a liquid. They slipped on over her fingertips, remaining until she was nearly ready. One taken off, the Neverseen carefully pried the razor off her thumbnail. Residue wiped off, she applied a clear coating. Next little sleeve off, procedure repeated. As the liquid was on longer for each successive nail, they were easier and easier to remove.

  She also tended the wounded fingers, gently filing rough spots before painting them as well. While her nails dried, she sat through the brushing and styling of her hair. At last she was ready.

  Docku and Teagun carried her in the seat of their arms through her house and out the door. The chair litter was there with eight carriers. It was a box with a bench seat inside. Her two men placed her on the cushion with the guiding aid of the Commander of the unit.

  “Positions for Lift,” he said.

  Eight men lowered in a partial squat to slide their shoulder under the pole.

  “Ready. Lift.”

  The box rose off the ground. Tyler braced herself with her arms to prevent herself from falling over on the seat.

  “Prepare for Walk. Ready. Walk.”

  They started off at a brisk pace, Docku on one side of the box and Teagan on the other. Dorn led the way. Several hundred residents were waiting in the market square, along with a few dozen faces she recognized from the Emperor’s palace. Sons and daughters with their spouses, mostly, and a few of the higher ranking officials who weren’t part of the family. She saw several K’Tran faces. Mankell, with about a dozen of his men and Kellina standing beside him.

  Tyler was carried up the center road to the obelisk in the middle. Shestna was there with the Ilramic assigned to his principality. Among their other duties, the Ilramic also performed weddings, particularly if he had brokered the agreement.

  The seat gently came to rest to the side. Dorn opened the little door and held his hand out for her to brace herself on—if she could walk. She smiled at him and, through sheer will power, stood on her own and exited the box. She walked the few feet to Shestna and no one knew there was anything amiss.

  Her dress was Voranian silk in ivory with black piping around all edges, strap behind her neck, backless to her waist, loose and flowing to the tops of her shoes. He wore a grand ensemble in the same color, with the same piping. She could not ask him what to expect. Could not ask him what to do about the beads she already wore. Dorn had not given her any answers.

  Shestna took her hands, smiling at her. Combs with flowers from her own garden pinned her hair back in graceful swoops. She could not have been more lovely.

  “His Royal Highness Prince Shestna and Her Highness Princess Tyler are already married,” the Ilramic said. “Theirs was a private ceremony in the presence of His Royal Highness Prince Dorn. They have chosen to have a public ceremony to share their union with the people of Voran. Prince Shestna, have you a Psala?”

  His right hand holding her left, Shestna reached aside to Dorn for the large red blossom on a presentation tray. Taking it with one hand, inhaling its fragrance in his own time, he offered it to Tyler. In front of these hundreds of people, she took it from his hand willingly. So large was the blossom that it covered her entire fist like a pompom.

  Crimson red with thin black lining just like the piping of her dress. The crowd murmured over the color of the flower, a color of passion that he would not give unless he was ardently in love with her.

  “Prince Shestna, please state your promises to your wife.”

  Shestna repeated what he’d said on the ship, word for word.

  “Your Highness, please state your promises to your husband.”

  Hoarse as her throat was, she knew she wouldn’t be able to speak loudly or for long. She chose to keep it simple, knowing what she said would be reported all around the planet and, likely, through the Congress as well.

  “I am yours.”

  Shestna nodded to the Ilramic to indicate that would be all from her.

  “As the wedding beads are already bestowed, His Highness has chosen a circle of pearl for today’s ceremony,” the Ilramic said, lifting it from his booklet.

  A two-thirds curve of a single length of ivory colored pearl, cultivated over a center form. Fine gold rope brought the sides around the rest of the way, ending in a thick gold circle slightly twisted open. Shestna stepped behind her and held out his hand to receive the necklace. His hands around her neck, she held the back of her hair up. He slipped the open circle through the second end of chain and twisted it back into shape. The necklace rested just above her collar bones. Unless she broke it or teleported it off herself, it was on permanently.

  She turned her head to look up to him and he kissed her, to the raucous cheers of their audience.

  “I need to sit down. Now,” she said quietly, her legs weakening with the exertion of standing and approaching failure.

  He lifted her into his arms to carry up the center aisle to a bench. There they sat together for the congregation to file by and give their well-wishes. Family members had already bestowed their gold rings, on her first presentation in Court. They did not need to do so again. This time, it was the men of prominent families in the region who slid thin gold rings onto her arms.

  Mankell was in front of her, taking her hand and bending low to kiss it. He was everything he’d always been…and off limits. She’d never had to live with a “don’t fuck anyone” rule before. It was going to be difficult.

  “You are as magnificent as ever, Zitara.”

  “Thank you for coming to our celebration,” she replied to keep herself safe from gossip.

  He moved on to shake Shestna’s hand, asking for a meeting the next day before he and his party would return to K’Tran. Shestna invited him to the midmeal.

  “I’m so pleased someone has finally gotten through the Prince’s hard heart to make him want to marry permanently.”

  A female voice. Tyler looked up to see first one of Shestna’s “Under the Protection of” brooches, then farther up into the face of a middle-aged Voranian woman. One of his former seven day brides. Behind her in the line were three others, two with children under ten years of age.

  Shestna’s children. Tyler’s stepchildren. All of his wives expressed similar sentiments as the first. The son who worked in the Palace motor pool was there as well. She couldn’t recall his name. Sitting next to Shestna, the crystal energy cou
rsing through him was interfering with her telepathic abilities. Six other sons had brought their wives and children.

  When the greeting line was completed, she had her legs back and could walk again. Shestna took her hand and they made their way to the feasting tables. She ate only enough to not be hungry. When he finished his plate, he took her by the hand to the area where couples were dancing. They performed a simple Voranian waltz, the bracelets up her arms getting heavy.

  After the dance, he thanked everyone for attending and bade them continue to celebrate in their absence. Hand in hand, they walked to his home with Dorn and the two K’Tran guards surrounding them. Dorn went inside. Docku and Teagan went back to the party to find Mankell.

  “We’ve already consummatedour marriage. Dorn can wait,” Tyler said, letting go Shestna’s hand and turning toward her own room.

  “But—“

  “Let her go, brother,” Dorn said. “She needs to lie down and rest. She did not have that opportunity before the ceremony.”

  “What in Nareeva’s fury did you do to her?”

  Dorn only smiled and went out the side door to enjoy one of his favorite cigars. Shestna followed.

  “You cancelled your appointment for your next treatment. You are certain you cured?” Dorn asked.

  “I am. Of everything including old age,” Shestna smirked at himself. “Has Father changed his will yet?”

  “No. He is very pleased you have bonded the crystal energy to yourself. He is equally pleased you have permanently married the woman. Changing the will is certain to happen but he will want to make sure he has everything well in hand first. I wouldn’t expect him to perform the rite for a couple years at least.”

  “Good. Tyler may be mature beyond her years most of the time, but she is not anywhere near close to being prepared to be Empress.”

  “I agree. She was not brought up for that,” Dorn said.

  “You know you will be my Second.”

  “I did not want to assume. When I finish my cigar, I will discharge the crystal energy and teleport home. I don’t need to see you consummate a marriage that has already existed for a week.”