She fought to slow the building orgasm. She even tried thinking of Ray and his love for his disgusting cock toy, but she couldn’t prevent her body from splintering into a million tiny, little fragments of light before becoming one with the universe.
Surge after surge of rippling pleasure shot through her, warming her to the core, shaking her to the depths of her soul. Fusing her to this man. Becoming one with him.
When the very last spasm abated, Uthiel pulled out.
“Wait,” Briar cried. “Put it back in. You’re healed, Uthiel. I mean, at least I think you are. I meant to tell you earlier. I channeled, and I’m pretty sure you’re completely healed.” She thrust against him.
Uthiel shook his head and leaned on his elbows, breathing hard. “You healed my shoulder, my lady, not my soul. That task is for the morrow.”
“No! You aren’t listening to me. I’m positive your soul is healed too. Well, I’m at least ninety-nine-point-nine percent positive.”
Briar wrapped an arm about Uthiel’s waist. “Ask Sarco if you don’t believe me, or Leeky, or even my father. They witnessed the channeling. That much energy couldn’t have been released just for your shoulder.”
Uthiel grinned as he took Briar’s hand and placed it on his still hard cock. “If you say I’m healed, then I say prove it, my lady.”
Briar squeezed his cock firmly and smiled, “Is that a challenge?”
“Take it however you wish,” he winked.
****
He gulped a moment later when she flipped him off of her, then straddled him. Her gaze slowly slid down his body to where her pussy met his groin.
“Ready or not, here I come.”
Lord Draka, sweet torture.
Briar had always been beautiful, but the goddess who rose above him now was spectacular.
Briar, whose forest-green eyes snapped with mischief.
Briar, whose blush-pink lips puckered in invitation.
Briar, whose flaming red hair now played peek-a-boo with her pebble-hard, rose-tipped nipples.
He forgot to breathe when she knelt between his legs, looked him in the eye, flicked out her tongue, and licked just the tip of his cock. Then she slid her mouth over its length until he could feel the back of her throat against its head. He almost embarrassed himself by begging.
She slowly suckled her way back up his shaft until his cock once more sprang free.
He shuddered.
Pouting prettily, Briar teased, “If you want more, then it’s your turn to talk dirty to me, Mr. Stoutheart.”
Uthiel took in deep gulps of air, trying his best to ease his hunger for the invisible stuff. Even to his own ears, his voice sounded breathy, but he didn’t care.
“Anything, my lady.” He paused and inhaled deeply. “I’ll say anything you wish to hear as long as you continue to do what you’re doing.”
She whispered in his ear, “So, my love, tell me what you call this thing again?” She playfully squeezed his shaft once more.
“It’s a cock!” Uthiel shouted.
Briar shook her head. “Let’s try again.” She brazenly dipped her head and bit his cock’s very tip, then kissed it.
Uthiel trembled, “Oh my God Draka…Briar, you’re killing me.”
“You know what I want to hear,” she laughed, “so say it.” This time she nuzzled his balls before licking his length.
“Penis―penis―penis!” Uthiel spat the words out as quickly as he could, then repeated them for good measure.
Briar giggled, “That’s my boy.” She latched onto his shaft once more.
He was going to die―of that he was certain. There was no way anyone could survive this level of superb torture and live. And Headmistress Seychelle hadn’t believed Briar to be good Dominatrix material—ha!
Briar swallowed his cock deep in her throat and even his toenails tingled. Where on Albrath had the woman learned to suck the length and lick the head of a cock while, at the same time, fondle balls with her delicate fingers?
Good Lord Draka, this is good. She is good. VoT, better than just good.
Lightning-fast jolts of pleasure ricocheted across his pelvis and landed squarely in the middle of his lower back. His eyes crossed. Sparks so intense they took his breath away zinged along his spine on a pathway back to his toes.
Could she have been telling the truth? Was it possible he was healed and could―?
She raised her head, locked her elbows in place, and prowled her way up his body, dipping and tasting as she went. Uthiel held his breath as she flicked out her tongue and licked his right nipple. A heartbeat later, though, he gulped in great gasps of air as she slid her lips across his chest and nipped the left one.
This couldn’t possibly be his Briar. No, there was nothing sweet and innocent about the feline above him. She was raw, she was wild, she was the sexiest woman he’d ever known. Uthiel liked the transformation. He liked it a lot.
Her eyes glowed with a fierce green fire that burned with passion, and her full lips widened in a predatory smile. Her mane of red hair framing her face reminded him of a hungry tigress.
When she sheathed herself on his cock and rode him, Uthiel knew breathing itself was overrated compared to this. He gripped her hips and held her firmly in place, knowing that his heart would shatter and his life would end if Briar didn’t remain right where she was, doing exactly what she was doing.
Rhythmic tremors of delight raced along his nerve endings. They warred for attention with the vibrations quaking deep in his gut.
How long had it been?
His cock was no longer his own. It belonged to Briar and obeyed her every command. With her upstrokes, his cock anticipated what it knew was coming. And with her downstrokes, it gloried in the feel of her hot, slick channel wrapping it in a tight embrace.
Uthiel held his breath. He could feel it―he was on the verge of an orgasm…once again…finally…
Sweet release would be his.
Spasms of ecstasy swirled at the base of his cock and intensified as they moved upward. He held perfectly still, allowing Briar to work her magic, not wanting to shift even a single muscle for fear of jinxing it.
He had to breathe, though. He simply couldn’t help it. Uthiel dragged in one huge gulp of air and―
“What the seven-pimpled, pock-marked skin on the butt cheek of a barbarian prostitute’s mother-in-law dancing naked in a downpour is wrong with ya, lad? Ya sound as if ya are dying.”
Uthiel stared at the gnome standing above him and wanted nothing more than to reach up and choke the life out of him.
Close…! He’d been so damn close to release, and now he was back in the tower room at Castle Kuropkat with a deflating cock, no orgasm, and no hope of remedying that situation any time soon.
He faced Briar and she stared back at him. She sniffed quietly as a single tear slid slowly down her cheek. With the pad of his thumb, he swiped it away.
Hugging her close to his heart, he sighed, “I’m fine, Mr. Shortz. Really, I am. It was just a dream.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Briar walked along the tower room’s wall, pausing every few feet to examine the bricks at floor level. Where was it? It had to be here, it simply had to be.
A sliver of early-morning sunlight shining through the high tower window allotted just enough illumination for her treasure hunt.
Two more steps, and then she saw it. The indentation in the wall she’d noticed during the dream that had told her exactly where she’d find Uthiel. The notch that at one time must have been part of an alcove.
Glancing over her shoulder at the men who were still fast asleep, she put a hand to her stomach to quell the butterflies fluttering deep in her belly. There lie Uthiel, with his long dark lashes resting against his cheeks, and his lips slightly parted in slumber. He was so handsome, so sexy, and oh so tempting.
When she’d first awakened, it had taken all of her willpower to not rouse him and drag him off to one of the other tower rooms to have her wa
y with him. After Leeky’s interruption the night before, it was even more important to prove to Uthiel his orgasm problem was a thing of the past.
But proof could wait. Just yesterday the paladin had been no more than a hair’s breadth away from death. He needed his rest even more than he needed proof of anything at the moment.
Grasping her half of the Dragon Heart Opal, Briar marveled at its steady rhythm and how it pulsed with a normal heat. She’d been in time after all.
Sighing happily, she looked away from the sight of the man who held her heart and refocused instead on the task at hand.
Briar knelt, ran her fingers across the tops of several stones, and stopped at the third one from the right.
Using a fingernail to chip away the soft sand that had settled around its edge, she wiggled the brick back and forth until it gave way and quietly clunked onto the floor. Slipping her hand deep into the opening, she fished out the long, wooden box she’d seen in her dream.
Leeky’s swift intake of air a few inches behind her startled Briar and she almost dropped the box.
His voice cracked with emotion even though he whispered, “What the dingleberries on the backside of a barbarian brute do ya make of that? I never dreamed I’d see the day I’d set eyes on that box again. Thought it’d been destroyed during the battle.”
Leeky scooped it out of her arms. “This box was given ta me by the elfin king himself when I got my commission. It’s made of rare purpleheart wood and rumored ta have magical properties. Whatever’s stored inside remains as if new, no matter how much time has gone by.”
Briar peeked over Leeky’s shoulder and read aloud the three words inscribed on the top. “Commander Leeky Shortz.”
The little gnome nodded and wiped away what suspiciously looked like a tear as he lifted the wooden lid.
Briar gasped as the open box revealed beautiful fabric. Spun daylight, white as snow, yet almost transparent. The opalescent cloth shimmered with traces of fire and ice, sunlight and mist. It was the most stunning material Briar had even seen.
Leeky’s fingers trembled when he lifted the treasure from its long-time resting place. The material unfolded before Briar’s eyes.
Her breath caught. It was a dress―but not just any dress.
A wedding gown.
Leeky’s voice dropped to an even softer whisper, and his words flowed out on a sob. “What the…the cold northern breeze up the skirt of a pantyless troll trollop do ya think of that? ‘Twas her wedding gown, lass. My Lady Kattra’s.”
After a moment, he sighed and held the dress out to Briar. “I want ya ta have it. It’s ta pretty ta sit in a box, forgotten, and never be worn.”
Reverently, Briar accepted the gossamer material and hugged it to herself. Happiness permeated her body, all the way to her bones. Never had she dreamed she’d have so beautiful a gown to wear on her wedding day.
Tears misted her vision, and her breath caught in her chest. She couldn’t help herself, so she leaned down and kissed the bald patch on Leeky’s head.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “I’ll cherish it forever.”
Leeky’s cheeks pinkened and his words tumbled forth in a squeak, “What the red-spotted freckles across the chubby ass cheeks of a buck-naked halfling did ya go and do that for, lass? Don’t be breaking the rules of friendship, or we’re gonna have a problem.”
“Rules of friendship?” Her voice rose an octave, and Briar glanced quickly toward her father, Uthiel, and Sarco to make sure she hadn’t woken them.
With a finger to his lips, Leeky shushed her and continued his own quiet tirade, “Don’t be telling me ya’ve never heard of the three unbreakable rules of friendship? Young people these days,” he lamented. “I just don’t know about ya.”
Briar smiled at the short, red-faced gnome glaring up at her. He held up a pudgy fist and made a production of flipping up three fingers, one at a time, as he lectured to her.
“Rule number one, there’s no mutual touching of ball sacs in friendship.
“Number two, friends don’t say ‘I love ya’ by candlelight.
“And three, there’s no kissing―especially involving tongues―between friends.
“I’ll make an exception for ya this one time, ‘cause, well, ya are a female and prone ta all that emotional stuff, and after all, ya didn’t use tongue. But don’t be thinking ya can be breaking the rules whenever the whim hits ya.”
Briar grinned. “And here I thought rules were made to be broken.”
A rustling sound caught her attention, and Briar whipped around.
“That’s a mighty fine dress, daughter, but this here paladin hasn’t asked me yet for your hand. And as close as you two were sleeping last night, his asking had better be soon. I swear, you couldn’t have gotten a tick off the ass of an Alarian mountain goat between you two.”
Heat played hopscotch up and down Briar’s cheeks as her eyes met Uthiel’s now wide awake gaze.
Her smile died on her lips. There was no joy in his expression this morning. There was no happiness, no laughter at her father’s words. There was only cold, calculated determination.
She gulped. Though the smoldering embers of last evening’s fire were still more than warm enough to heat the small tower room, a chill raced down her spine.
****
There was no way to make her understand why he hesitated to ask for her hand, and there was nothing he could do right now to wipe the hurt from her eyes.
Uthiel sighed as he slipped his tunic over his head and slid his feet into his boots. His task had to be done today. He had to kill the dragon before he could get on with his life. His and Briar’s life together.
What choice did he have?
A sharp pain shot through his shoulder and Uthiel winched as he rubbed it. Bits and pieces of memory―or delirium, he wasn’t sure which―flooded his mind. Namely, how did he get to this tower room after the dragon’s talon had pierced his arm?
He didn’t remember walking or even stumbling here as the poison coursed through his veins. But he had the oddest recollection of being gently carried through the tower window and placed safely on the floor. That couldn’t have been, though. He’d fought this battle alone.
“What the pus-filled boil on the inside thigh of a limping dwarf do ya think it was like, lad? I’m tellin’ ya, the battle for Castle Kuropkat was like no battle ever before or since.”
Uthiel took a deep breath and counted to ten. After last night, Leeky Shortz wasn’t on his favorites list as it was, but this ongoing discussion with Sarco about the war was really getting on his nerves. The little gnome just wouldn’t shut up.
“Castle Kuropkat was once a jewel of trade and prosperity. But, let me tell ya, the war started over a woman, as almost all battles do. A visiting barbarian princess took a liking ta the elfin prince, and the prince liked her back.”
Uthiel slid his sword into his scabbard. “It’s time to go, men. We’re wasting daylight.” Neither Sarco nor Leeky appeared to hear Uthiel’s words.
“The elfin prince ended up taking what wasn’t his ta take when the barbarian princess offered what wasn’t hers ta give, and they got caught doing it, if’n ya know what I mean.”
Leeky fisted both his hands and made humping motions with his hips.
Laughter broke out among the others, but Uthiel didn’t find anything funny this morning. “We really need to get going.”
Sarco didn’t even glance his way but attempted to shush him with a wave of an arm. “For God Draka’s sake, Uthiel, we have all day. It’ll take no more than the dropping of a smattering of grains of sand through the hourglass for Leeky to finish his story. Did you know he’s immortal?”
Uthiel sighed. What did he care if the gnome claimed to be immortal? He had much more important matters to attend to. “No, Sarco, now. We’re wasting time. Leeky can finish his story as we go. I don’t care.”
Briar’s head shot up from fumbling with her medicine bag. “Just give me another minute or two. I need
to get my herbs all situated before we head home.”
“We aren’t going home just yet, my lady.” Even to his own ears, Uthiel’s voice sounded resigned. “My quest is not yet finished. Stay here with your father, and we’ll return soon.”
Hands on hips, she glared at him. “What are you talking about?”
“That final, fateful day of battle dawned with the sky as dark red as the congealed blood below my boots. The constant weeping was no more than a background hum in my ears. My men and I stood at the ready as the barbarians breeched Castle Kuropkat’s inner walls. Thousands of them swarmed like locusts, as if we were a field of tender young shoots ready ta be devoured.”
Uthiel yelled, “Enough already about that stupid war, Leeky. We need to get on with the hunt.”
Briar’s gasp broke his heart. He forced himself to look her in the eye, knowing exactly what she would say, and hating himself for how he had no choice but to respond.
“Hunt? What do you mean, hunt? Don’t do it, Uthiel. Let’s just go home, please.”
He closed his eyes, not wanting to see the pain he caused. “I can’t go home yet, my lady. You know in your heart what it is I must do.”
Briar cried, “I didn’t come all this way to lose you now. I know what you’re planning, and you don’t have to do it. You are healed, Uthiel. You no longer need to seek revenge against that…that dragon.”
“It isn’t revenge I seek, Briar. Please understand this. I have no choice,” he sighed. “You did a splendid job healing my shoulder. It’s as good as new, but as for my soul…you must leave that to me.”
His voice trailed off, and Uthiel wracked his brain, searching for the right words to somehow make Briar understand. “I must finish this once and for all. It’s not for myself, and I swear it isn’t for something as unpaladin-like as revenge. It’s for us, for our future, and for the future of our children.”
“Killing that dragon won’t change anything. Please listen to me.” Briar’s voice broke. “You are healed. Your soul is healed. I’m almost positive of it. Let me prove it to you.”
Uthiel wanted to do nothing but comfort her as Briar looked first to her father, then to Sarco, and finally to Leeky for support.
The Academy Volume One Page 27