Paladin (Graven Gods Book 1)

by Angela Knight

  That night, I’d joined the tribe in keening our grief around his pyre.

  Now we would see if his Heir was fit to take up the torc and assume Paladin’s godhead, that he might lead us in battle as I led us in peace. Our children would bear our gods in their turn, and their children, down through all the generations. If the Heir passed his test. The Heir stood tall in the firelight, his body broad and plated with muscle. Swirls of woad painted his torso, patterns that flowed down his arms, his legs and the length of his heavy cock to swirl over his balls. The same spells marked my body, though mine glowed as his did not, indicating my goddess’ presence and power.

  Opposite the Heir stood Dren, the tribe’s most powerful warrior, a burly man, muscular and experienced, dark-eyed and calculating. The Heir must defeat him to become the Avatar. Otherwise Dren who would wear the torc and become God King.

  But I wanted the Heir. I had wanted him since the day our tribes met to trade bloodlines as our respective gods bargained. Of all the young hunters who’d competed for his attention, he was the one Paladin chose and named his Heir.

  “And he chose well,” Eris assured me from the depths of my mind. Just as Paladin was the god of war and justice, she was the goddess of birth and death. And I was her avatar, her human host, her hands in battle and peace. “Of all the candidates who vied for our attention, his intelligence, strength and magical power blazed the brightest. His bloodlines are fully a match for yours. Your children will be fit vessels indeed -- should he win.”

  And that was the question. If he didn’t defeat Dren, he’d become nothing more than a hunter again. I would never have him, for I must take Paladin’s Avatar as my mate. Breeding the next Heir was my duty, and duty came before desire.

  I stepped out into the middle of the circle and raised my hands. A burst of will made my body’s sigils glow brighter. “Tonight our champions do battle. Tonight Paladin’s chosen Heir must prove himself worthy to lead the tribe in war against the forces of the chaos god.”

  I looked at the Heir, who stood still and watchful in the torchlight. “Our God King chose you, but you must prove yourself worthy of his torc, to prove you can defend us against Valak’s tribe.”

  The Heir bowed his head, torchlight painting gold over the contours of powerful arms and shoulders. Heat tightened the petals between my thighs, and the tips of my nipples hardened.

  “I will not fail,” he said, and his eyes flashed up to meet mine with an impact I felt to the tips of my bare toes. “I will have you.” He did not say it aloud, but I read his determination in his eyes.

  I wanted to let him know that I craved him as much, but I could not appear to favor him. So instead I turned to Dren. “As the tribe’s champion, it is your duty to test the Heir. You must ensure he deserves the torc, that he has the strength to enact Paladin’s will against our enemies. And should he fall to you, you will prove yourself the more deserving. You will then take up the torc and become the Avatar of Paladin. Do you accept this responsibility?”

  He bowed his head more deeply than the Heir had. I was the tribe’s Goddess Queen, after all. “As you will it.” He gave the Heir a flat, fierce stare. He truly was the greatest of our warriors, save for the fallen God King himself, and that confidence blazed in his eyes. It was plain he believed he could defeat the Heir and take the torc -- and me -- for his own.

  Tension tightened my gut. He was a bigger man than the Heir, with thick, powerful muscle from hunting prey and swinging a bronze axe in battle against the tribe’s enemies. And yet, though Dren was handsome enough, he did not make my blood run hot. He was my cousin, and I did not care to lie with him.

  But that mattered not. The Heir would have to prove himself, and if he did not, I would go to Dren. Such was my duty. I turned and walked from the circle to seat myself on the rough arrangement of stones where I normally sat beside Paladin. Today only his torc lay there, glowing blue and bright.

  “To win, you must either render your foe senseless or force him to yield. Do not kill him, for we cannot afford to lose a fighter to one of our own.” I looked at the two men and nodded. “Begin.”

  With a roar, Dren charged, trying to take the Heir off guard with a swing of one huge fist. The Heir slipped aside, soundless and quick as a wolf. Even as he spun away, his fist plowed into Dren’s jaw.

  The big warrior staggered back, shaking his head, then caught himself. He moved in, grim, intent, to pound vicious punches into the Heir’s ribs with such force I winced in sympathy.

  The Heir made no sound as he whirled away. His eyes narrowed, his expression chilling into a hunter’s intensity.

  They circled, hands out and ready to grapple or block, bare feet quick on the forest floor. Spinning around each other, they drove blows into thighs, shins, ribs. Anger built between them with each brutal exchange.

  And still they fought, sweat rolling along gleaming skin and straining muscle. Beautiful in battle, impressive in their power and grace, they were also frightening in their vicious determination. I grew more and more tense, fearing for the Heir, despite my efforts to hold myself aloof.

  I knew had I not ordered otherwise, they’d have killed for the torc and the god.

  And me.

  The Heir saw the opening he’d been looking for. Leaping high, he lashed out with a kick that caught Dren in the belly. The big man staggered back and fell to one knee. He fought to rise, but the Heir stepped behind him and pounced, his weight smashing Dren to the dirt. Snaking an arm around the bigger man’s throat, the Heir grabbed his own wrist with the other hand and clamped down hard. I heard Dren wheeze as the Heir’s powerful arms cut off his breathing.

  He drove an elbow into the Heir’s gut, but those powerful arms did not loosen even a hair’s width. Face darkening, the hunter tried slamming his head back against his captor’s face. The Heir snapped his head aside, and Dren failed to break his nose.

  Before he could try anything else, the Heir bore down even harder. Dren bucked furiously. The Heir hung on, merciless. Dren’s struggles slowed, until the big hunter finally went limp in the Heir’s arms.

  Just as I was beginning to wonder if I should order him to stop before he cost us a fighter, he released Dren and surged to his feet. The tribe cheered. To my relief, Dren stirred after a moment, sucking in a harsh breath.

  “He’s fine,” Eris said in my mind. “The Heir knows what he’s about.”

  I gestured, and my people quieted. “Tend Dren,” I told those who served as my handmaidens. “He’s served the tribe well.”

  Smiling, the women rose and moved to help the gasping Dren to his feet. As he staggered out of the circle, his gaze lifted to mine. I shook my head, and disappointment flooded his eyes as he realized he had lost his chance at the torc.

  I waited until Dren had left the circle and our tribesmen had ceased to howl and clap. Rising, I lifted the torc in both hands, then walked slowly to the center of the circle.

  The Heir watched me, a smile of triumph curving his handsome mouth even as he sank to his knees before me.

  I paused, staring down into his face. “You have bested the greatest of our warriors with skill, strength and courage. You shall no longer be called Heir, but from henceforth be known as Paladin, god of justice.”

  I closed the torc over his throat. The moment the metal touched his smooth, sweating flesh, it blazed so bright and blue I was momentarily blinded. Every hair stood up on the back of my neck from the nimbus of Paladin’s power flooding into the victor.

  The Heir cried out as the god possessed him. His voice deepened into a roar, and once dark eyes blazed the same inhuman, piercing blue as the dead god king’s. A magical convulsion arched his body backward to slam against the dirt. The woad that swirled over his skin blazed from Paladin’s possession as he writhed, heels and fists drumming the bare ground.

  At last he collapsed, panting as he stared with glowing eyes up at the star flecked sky. Silence fell as the crowd strained to hear his rasping whisper. “And I live again!
”

  Surging to his feet, Paladin threw his fists in the air, raising his voice into a roar. “Thanks to my brave goddess wife, who recovered my torc from the field of battle, I again stand before you!”

  The tribe’s cheers shook the leaves over our heads. Paladin signaled, and they fell silent as he began to pace around the ring of them, meeting each one’s eyes. “I swear to lead you as I have for generations, god-king to Heir to god-king again. I will lead you to victory over the sons of chaos, and we will grind them into the mud beneath our feet.” His deep voice rose to a shout. “We are Paladin’s People, and we walk in justice!”

  As the tribe shouted their joyous approval, he threw his arms wide, sending a wave of power foaming over the clearing. Where his magic touched, the men growled in sexual need.

  At the same moment, I sent my own magic spilling, gathering the women’s desire and stoking it to burning. They cried out and turned toward their lovers.

  This was why there were no children among us this night.

  And now, Paladin shouted over their raised, eager voices as he pulled me into his arms. “Now I will get my Heir!”

  “Yes!” I shouted as his hands gripped my thighs to lift me. I wrapped my legs around his hips and hooked one foot over the opposite ankle, arms coiling around his neck. His thick, hot cock pushed against my belly, a demanding testament to his lust. I circled my hips, relishing the wicked length and promise of it. “Ahhh, my king!”

  So I clung to him, loving the feel of his body, hard and slick against mine. Gazing up into those glowing blue eyes, I saw the ancient power swirling in their depths. He smiled, sensual and slow.

  Paladin supported my weight as if I weighed no more than dandelion fluff. If I’d had any doubts about his strength, he put them to rest when he shifted the grip of one hand under my rump and slid the other up the curve of my body, tracing hip and ribs in a ticklish brush. His palms carried the arousing rasp of calluses earned wielding spear and axe. I shuddered in reaction.

  He was a warrior, and felt like a warrior, his body as hard as the bronze of his torc. I moaned as I kissed him, savoring the taste of mead and man, the lingering battle scent.

  We kissed lazily again, tongues coiling, lips pressing. The curling hair over his chest teased my nipples, the sensation seductive. Maddening. As darkly intoxicating as Paladin’s kiss. I shook in his arms with the force of my desire.

  Until he let me go. With an instinctive yelp, I tightened the grip of my arms and thighs. “Let go,” he murmured. “I shall not drop you.” His lids lowered until his eyes were but glowing slits. “I shall never fail you, my love.”

  So I released him, and his magic lifted me. Coils of power wrapped around my arms and legs, pulling them wide until I was spread like a starfish.

  I writhed. It did me no good. Paladin’s magic might as well have been hammered bronze, for I could not break it. I caught my breath in escalating arousal at the delicious sense of helplessness.

  He can do anything to me. Anything at all…

  Paladin watched me struggle, lust leaping high in his eyes. His burning blue gaze traced the curves of my breasts, the stiff points of my nipples, then downward over my belly and between my straining thighs.

  His lips curved into a very male smile of satisfaction. He flicked a finger. The magic of my bonds began to lick at me, dancing around my torso to caress my breasts and foam between my thighs. Every swirling stroke drew heat and pleasure to the surface.

  The power abruptly snapped over my nipples, twin arousing bites. I yelped and twisted. But despite my cry of pain, my hips rolled, strained. I lifted my head, locking my desperate gaze on his long, thrusting cock.

  Paladin’s eyes darkened. “You like that, don’t you?”

  I could only moan. The magic between my legs lapped the delicate skin there, tasting and probing like a skillful man’s tongue. The pleasure of it burned with piercing sweetness.

  He stepped close, and his hand gripped my chin hard. His eyes burned in the mind, fierce and blue. “I asked you a question.”

  “Yes,” I gasped. “Yes, I like it.” Loved it, though I refused to say as much. He’d savor it more if he had to work for my submission.

  Paladin grinned, dark and male. “Good.” Leaning down, he kissed me, a slow, seductive claiming. “My beautiful goddess,” he murmured against my lips. “How many times I’ve lain on my pallet, jerking my cock as I dreamed of seeing you like this. Bound for my pleasure. Ready for me.”

  His tongue stroked the seam of my lips, coaxing them to open. I whimpered, kissing him back hard, shivering with the maddening delight he triggered with mouth and magic.

  “I’ve wanted you as I have wanted no other woman.” Paladin looked down, gazing at my breasts in absorbed wonder. “‘Tis so strange. The god remembers taking you. I see his memories from when he was the dead God King. I know just how you like to be touched as if we’ve made love many times.” He ran the bare tips of his fingers over my breasts, a dancing tickle. I squirmed, but my magical bonds held me fast. Panting, I ground my hips in yearning. “But it didn’t feel like this,” he added softly. “Your skin is even softer than I remember. So delicate.”

  “Ahhhhh, Paaaaladiiiin…”

  “Yes?” He bent to my breasts and I caught my breath. His tongue lapped the tips, tasting me until my head fall back as I moaned to the stars. His tongue trapped my nipple against his teeth, which closed in an exquisitely careful bite. The swirl of pleasure made me shudder.

  Panting, I watched him suckle me. His gaze flashed up to mine, blue and glowing, as his hand cupped my breast. Sweet. It felt so sweet, a rush of luscious sensuality pouring through my body, making me swell and tighten.

  Around us, the tribe groaned and whimpered and shouted as they coupled, the magic we had worked driving them to frenzied lust. Yet I cared not, my mind caught in the magic Paladin spun with his clever hands and skilled mouth.

  With an effort, I managed to speak. “I… I have watched you too. I watched you… with the men of the tribe… training for battle. Watched the sun shine on the sweat of your shoulders and… longed for you. Dreamed of you, your hands on my skin. This is ssso much sweeter… than those dreams.”

  “Good.” Growling, he suckled my peak into his mouth, swirling his tongue around and over it, maddening and delicious.

  His magic began to tease me in earnest. First with a brush of rabbit fur against my back, then in a ticklish ripple down the length of my thighs. Then in little bites, here and there on breast and belly, a rake of teeth across the left nipple, just shy of pain. As if that did not madden me enough, sharp little impacts began to strike my backside, landing on my cheeks like swats. I bucked, gasping, and he laughed against my skin. His eyes rolled up at me, a wicked flash of blue.

  When he dropped to his knees, I cried out.

  Paladin spread the lips of my pussy and breathed in, inhaling deeply as a wolf might drink the scent of prey. “You are wet. But then, I’d be insulted if you weren’t.”

  “That…” I panted, “Was never even a possibility!”

  “Good.” He leaned in. I sucked in a breath of anticipation. Paladin gave my pussy a single slow lick.

  Elder gods, the sensation! The exquisite pleasure of it tore a ragged whimper from my mouth. He licked again, tracing wet folds, discovering sensitive nooks.

  As he ate at me, more magical swats landed, the blows driving me forward onto his tongue. Pain and pleasure clashed, blended, built each other. My moans became sharp cries of arousal, the sounds blending with the rough voices of the tribe fucking all around us.

  Still licking me, he reached up the length of my body, cupped my breast in his hand. Thumb and forefinger closed on my nipple and began to milk pleasure from it. Each lap of his tongue and twist of his fingers added tinder to my lust.

  The swats of magic became strokes of furred fingers, mixed with sharp little pinches. Sensation piled on sensation, until with a rough growl, he jerked away from me and shot to his feet. One han
d clamped my hip as the other took his cock in hand. He found my slick opening and drove deep, his ruthlessness ripping a yowl from my mouth.

  Big! His cock felt so thick, so merciless, but I was very wet, and he drove to the balls.

  The magic released me, dropping me into Paladin’s rough warrior’s hands. “Ah, you feel incredible!” he gritted against my ear before drawing back. His eyes met mine, fierce, demanding, and I found I could not look away. The god blue of his eyes burned into me as he began to thrust, shafting that thick cock in and out. Each pump seemed to stuff me full with jolting stabs of pleasure.

  All the while, his magic played, sucking my clit like a hot mouth, licking my nipples, the sensations intense and impossible.

  It was too much, pumping my skull full of ecstasy. I could only cling to Paladin, my cries of delight building to a scream.

  “Paladiiiiinnnn!” I came, convulsing in his arms.

  “Yes!” he bellowed, rough and male, and shoved as deep as he could go, coming, spilling himself inside me as I clung to him, writhing around his impaling length.

  I looked up at him through a haze of helpless pleasure, watching the great muscles of his shoulders and powerful arms as he strained for his pleasure. Riding the hot pulses of delight spilling through me, blinding and intense.

  At last it was over. I hung limp in Paladin’s arms, his cock still buried inside me, his hands gripping my thighs. “Elder gods,” he moaned, and his knees gave way.

  I yipped in alarm, but his magic caught us as we fell. Arms wrapped around each other, we floated above the ground, suspended in dancing sparks.

  Drifting.

  Chapter Four

  I woke panting raggedly from the erotic dream. My body seemed to reverberate from the echoes of my climax. I could feel how wet I still was. No surprise. I’d had a love of bondage from the time I’d found some of the kinkier romances in my aunt’s bookstore. Then I’d gone to college and discovered BDSM novels. Paladin’s palm was soon pounding my ass in D-battery powered fantasies.