by Riley Storm
Too late, he realized as Natalia started making sleepy noises and shuffling about in the bed.
“Kirell?” she asked, suddenly more wakeful than anticipated.
Her feet slid out from the bed, and he moved to say hello, to let her know he was there, but she was too quick, and she planted her feet on him as she went to stand up.
“Ack!” she yelped in a most unfeminine manner before flailing hard and landing on her back in an explosion of covers and pillows. Her rear missed the edge of the bed, however, and she slipped off it, landing on top of him.
“Sorry,” she said.
He held her tight as she tried to push away from him. “It’s okay. You didn’t know I was here. Though maybe you should look before you leap next time.”
“Not a strong suit of mine.” She looked down at him. “You’re not wearing a shirt.”
“I prefer to sleep shirtless.”
Her eyes moved to her own body. “I’m wearing a t-shirt.” She looked down at her legs. “And shorts.”
“Yes?”
“I wasn’t wearing those when I went to bed last night.”
He shrugged. “The clothes were damp, I didn’t want you to get a chill.”
“You undressed me?”
“I didn’t look, I put you face down first. I’m not a pervert, I was just looking out for you. It’s not my fault you can’t hold your alcohol.”
She sniffed. “If you’re not a pervert, why is your cock hard? Again?”
Kirell thought about pointing out the fact she was lying right on top of him, pressed completely against him. Then he decided not to bother. All it would do was point out the fact he was attracted to her, something of no benefit to either of them. It was his own private battle to be waged, to learn to control his sexual desires while she was around. Openly bringing her into it wouldn’t help.
“Morning wood,” he muttered, trying to brush it off.
It didn’t work. The more he tried not to think about Natalia, the more he did. She was occupying space in his mind when he didn’t want her to. The game they were playing was a dangerous one, and one slip-up could get him in a lot of trouble. He hated sneaking around and lying to the rest of his House about the fact that he had a mate, but his Queen had asked him to. What was he supposed to do, say no to his ruler?
I don’t think so!
Now he’d gone and found someone who could act the part, and he was lusting after her like some teenager with rogue hormones. This was not the way a Captain of High House Ursa was expected to act, and he needed to be better. For himself. For his Queen. For the House.
“Morning wood. I see. Are you sure it’s not because I let you kiss me last night?”
Was that…was that an invitation? No, he decided a second later, he was just imagining it because his dick needed a warm place to settle for half an hour. Still…
“Let me?” he asked incredulously. “I’m pretty sure that was an equal effort thing.”
Natalia just smirked.
“Let me,” he scoffed again. “That’d be like saying if I kissed you right here and now, you’d again be letting me. Without any interest from your end.”
Didn’t we just agree to not go down this path?
“I didn’t say there wasn’t any interest,” Natalia joked, her eyes dancing with laughter.
“Then maybe you should let me kiss you again. So we can find out.”
I know you’re not one for following the rules, but just this time, you should probably refrain.
“Maybe I should.”
Too late.
He lifted his head from the floor without giving it a second thought, covering her mouth with his. Natalia hissed in surprise at the abruptness of it, but after a brief second where she pulled back, her body language changed. He felt her melt into him, no longer lifting her weight slightly. Now she lay completely atop him, kissing him back just as furiously.
His hands slid up her sides, pulling the shirt as he searched for bare skin, aching to press her flesh against his own and to feel that most intimate of touches. Natalia didn’t fight him, her own hands busy dragging her fingernails gently over his chest, her palms rubbing deep.
Parting her lips with his tongue, he gently explored her mouth, feeling the warmth and softness as they danced playfully back and forth. His erection, already hard, became rigid, straining against the lining of his sweats as Natalia’s hips worked their way back and forth far too slowly to be anything more than a purposeful tease.
He growled and lifted her shirt, pulling it up over her head and tossing it to the side. Eager to see her fully, he held Natalia tight and rolled them both over.
Now, Natalia lay back on the floor, hair spread out around her, arms draped lazily above her head. His body grew heated as he took in her soft stomach and small chest, hungrily eyeing her tiny, hardened nipples.
It didn’t bother him one bit that she wasn’t largely endowed and judging by the way she exposed herself for his viewing now, Natalia didn’t care either. That confidence was hot, and he bent over her with a flourish, gently taking first one and then the other into his mouth, letting his tongue flick over and around the points, listening to her breathing deepen into soft moans.
This wasn’t at all how he’d planned the morning to go, but he wasn’t about to deny his attraction to this woman. After all she’d been through, she was still here, and still intrigued by him as well. Her hands ran through his short hair, scraping fingers over his scalp and sending shivers down his spine.
“Kirell,” she half-moaned as he slid a hand over her exposed hip bones. The shorts had slipped lower while they moved, and the top was barely hiding her mound from his view.
Tentatively he ran his fingers up and down her inner thighs, giving her time to stop him before he reached the apex, just in case she wasn’t ready to take things any further.
The way her face was begging for him to keep going, and the tiny sounds she made begging for him to stop teasing was all the confirmation he needed. Watching her closely for any reaction, he found the bottom of his reach, and reversed his motion, this time intending to give her just what she wanted. There would be no stopping this time. He didn’t want to wait a moment longer to hear her sounds of pleasure.
Then, from off to the side, the door to his rooms shook as someone pounded furiously on the outside. “KIRELL! Open the door this moment!”
“Klebra,” he snarled, rolling off Natalia, his arousal replaced with the urge to protect her.
“Who?” Natalia was already putting her shirt back on.
Kirell’s gaze lingered on her exposed skin for a second. He shook his head. Later. “No time to explain. You need to get under the bed.”
The door shook again, and something splintered. “If that asshole wrecks my door, I’m going to kill him.”
“Who the hell is Klebra?”
“I’ll explain later. Please. Just go under the bed and wait, okay? He can’t know you’re here. Not yet. It’s too early.
Natalia crossed her arms, irritation written plainly on her face. “I’m not going to hide under the bed like some sort of mistress. If I’m to be your mate, then let me act like it. I’ll get on the bed.”
“Listen to me, Natalia. You must do as I say for now, okay? Klebra is not the first person you are going to meet.”
“Kirell! I know you’re in there! Open up before I break it down!”
Natalia looked nervously between him and the door. The anger in Klebra’s voice was giving her second thoughts, he could see that now.
“Please?” he was pleading with her now, but time was running short. If Klebra saw her there, he would have all sorts of questions for her, and would attempt to scare her into admitting she wasn’t actually his mate, and Kirell couldn’t risk that. Neither of them could.
“You owe me,” she hissed angrily and slid under the bed.
Waiting until the bed skirt had stopped moving, he looked at the door once more. Once he was satisfied, Kirell walked over to o
pen it, intending to have words with Klebra about manners. This was not how members of House Ursa acted toward one another, no matter what they thought of the other.
“Fine, have it your way!” Klebra snarled.
Kirell had a moment to throw himself to the side and then the thick oaken door burst inward, flying through the spot Kirell had just occupied before slamming into the wall with a loud crash—thankfully covering up the squeak Kirell was sure he heard from under the bed.
Then all thoughts of Natalia were pushed aside as a furious Klebra stormed into the room.
17
“What are you doing over there?” Klebra all but howled.
Getting to his feet, Kirell dusted himself off, taking his time, ignoring the outburst. Klebra had no right to be in his room or to break down his door the way he did, and so Kirell was going to make him wait.
“I asked you a question.”
Kirell just adjusted his pants, picking a rogue piece of lint from his chest that he’d picked up while on the floor. “You’re going to fix my door.”
“Like hell, I am.” Klebra walked up to him, shaking with fury. “You’re the one that’s going to do as I say.”
Snorting in Klebra’s face would probably provoke an immediate fight. Kirell contemplated going down that route but pushed it aside. With Natalia in the room, he needed to avoid a fight if at all possible. Not only would the two of them going at it risk injury to her, but it would also bring a parade of others, increasing the chances of Natalia getting detected.
And I really don’t feel like messing up my room.
“Now why would I do that?” Kirell mused, stepping around the irate shifter and walking aimlessly around his room. “Last I checked, you weren’t the boss of me in any manner. Has something changed?”
“You’re damn right it’s changed. I’m taking charge now. You’re going to go to the Queen and tell her you’re not taking the position of Captain.”
“I am?” he asked innocently.
Klebra shook his head in frustration, thick black hair bouncing wildly before settling just below his ears once more. “Yes, you are.”
Pretending to think about it, Kirell tapped his jaw.
“Go!” Klebra commanded.
“Why?” He started bobbing his index finger around like some sort of pseudo-intellectual trying to solve a problem.
“What?” Klebra tugged at his thick goatee.
“No, why?”
“What why?” asked Klebra.
“Why what?”
Klebra growled. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying: why?” It was taking everything he had to keep a straight face. This was just too much fun!
“Why what?” Klebra’s hands were clenching and unclenching into fists with a rapidity suggesting he was about to have a stroke.
That would certainly be convenient. Still, I don’t want to push him so hard he loses his grip on his sanity. Do I?
Maybe just one more.
“Why what, what?”
“Don’t play games with me! You know perfectly well what I’m saying.” The vein in Klebra’s head was throbbing visibly now, a sure sign he was about to lose his temper. Again.
“I’m asking you why would I go to the Queen and say that? Why am I giving up the position of Captain?”
“Because I told you to.”
Kirell had never had the highest of respect for Klebra’s intellect, but he was starting to wonder if maybe he’d still been giving the man too much credit. There was no way he could be this dumb.
Could he? To assume Kirell would just do as he said? Nobody in their right mind would believe that.
Unless someone had already given them the idea that I would.
Someone else had put Klebra up to this. They were manipulating the shifter, trying to convince him he was more powerful than Kirell, that he could order the other man around and expect those orders to be obeyed.
Preposterous. You’re overthinking this. Klebra is just an idiot.
In situations like this, Occam’s Razor was often applicable: the simplest answer was likely the correct one. Kirell was probably just being paranoid, an allowable instance after everything that had happened to his House in the recent week.
“Well? What are you waiting for?”
He regarded Klebra. “I’m not going to do that.”
“Yes.” His challenger for the position came a step closer. “You are.”
“Intimidating me isn’t going to work.” He crossed his arms and affected a bored stance.
“You will go to the Queen and decline the nomination. You will tell her I am the rightful Captain of the House.”
This time, Kirell did snort, dropping his arms and facing Klebra directly, letting his emotions show. “Rightful Captain? You weren’t even a House Guard. How does that make you the rightful Captain? I may not have wanted the position, but I was nominated to it, and it’ll be a cold day in hell before I think you can do a better job.” His voice was icy cold, filled with a fury he hadn’t known he possessed.
“You are a liar,” Klebra hissed. “You aren’t fit for the position. You have no mate.” He paused. “You’re also a traitor.”
Kirell couldn’t help himself. He punched Klebra square in the face. No warning, no threat. Just bam, suckerpunch. Cartilage and bone gave way with a sickening crunch and blood began to flow a moment later, spraying everywhere as Klebra reeled backward, eyes wide. First surprise, then pain, then rage flashed across the injured shifter’s face.
“Aw, shit.” It was all Kirell had time to mutter before ducking a wild retaliatory swing.
While his foe didn’t seem to be all there in the intellect department today, his combat skills weren’t lacking. Kirell’s duck took him directly into the path of Klebra’s rising knee. Throwing himself to the side, he avoided the worst of the attack, taking a glancing blow off his cheek instead.
The evasion cost him not only the chance to retaliate, but also his balance, and Kirell went down hard, landing on his back. He had a split second to see Natalia’s terrified face peek out from under the bed before rolling to the side as Klebra stomped down on his face. Wood shattered and the irate shifter howled as he put his foot right through the floor.
Kirell got to his feet. “Idiot,” he muttered as Klebra yanked his foot free, ignoring the damage the split ends did to his leg, ripping open skin as he pulled against the boards.
“Traitorous swine!”
“Oh. We’re back to that, are we? You know that’s a lie, because if you had any proof, you’d have already gone to the Queen with it. Let’s just call this for what it is, a power play by you, that’s gone horribly wrong.” He didn’t wait for an answer, instead wading back in, blocking a painfully telegraphed left jab before taking the blow from Klebra’s right.
Stop thinking he’s attacking you wildly.
Kirell fell back, holding his ribs. They ached from where the fist had landed. Whatever else Klebra was, he was sure good on his feet. Kirell had his own strengths, but he wasn’t a martial artist, not to the same level. For a moment, he wondered where Klebra had learned such moves, since he wasn’t a soldier of the House, but there was no time for that. Not if he wanted to avoid getting his ass handed to him in front of Natalia.
“You’re mine,” Klebra snarled, already proclaiming his victory as he closed, fists up by his eyes like a boxer. “This bout is over.”
“There’s just one thing wrong with that statement,” Kirell said with a grin.
“What’s that?”
“There are no rules in this fight.” And he kicked Klebra as hard as he could in the shin with the ball of his foot.
The knee buckled under the powerful blow, and the other shifter shrieked in pain as he went down. Kirell pivoted on the same foot as he returned it to the ground, delivering a spinning kick. He’d hoped to hit Klebra in the face, but the man ducked to the side, and instead took it square in the shoulder.
The joint popped under the blow and t
he arm hung uselessly. Kirell blinked in surprise at his unexpected fortune; usually, a blow to the arm like that wouldn’t have dislocated the shoulder, but he must have hit it just right.
Before he could gloat in the victory though, a trio of shifters burst through the open doorway. Soldiers of the House, they had responded to the commotion.
“Get him out of here,” he snapped, pointing at Klebra. “Take him to Kive’s office.”
Kive was the Priest of House Ursa. It’s doctor. He would set the knee and shoulder back in place, to ensure it would heal properly, and attend to any other injuries.
Too bad he doesn’t deal with idiotic brain trauma.
“Are you okay? What went on here?” one of the soldiers asked, looking around the room, his eyes coming to rest on the door, one corner of it embedded in the wall.
“Delusions of grandeur,” Kirell muttered, walking over to the door. With a grunt, he ripped it from the wall and carried the heavy piece of solid wood back to the opening. “I’m fine. Thank you for coming.”
It was a dismissal, and the soldier recognized it as such. Kirell wasn’t the official Captain of the House yet, but he had the authority of the Queen, and the soldier—his name slipped him at that moment—wasn’t about to fight it.
“Give us a call if he comes back.”
“I will.”
Then the soldier was gone, and Kirell pushed the door back into place. It fit. Mostly. Looking around he grabbed one of the couches. Cushions fell to the ground as he overturned it and used it as an angled support, bracing it against the door and the ground at a forty-five-degree angle to keep the way shut.
“There, that oughta do it,” he pronounced.
“Kirell!”
He barely got turned around before Natalia was back in his arms.
“Hey,” he said, speaking calmly while also reaching up to stroke her hair, trying to ensure her everything was okay. “It’s okay. Everything is fine.”
It wasn’t her fault. Fights like this were not rare in his House, and he was positive it wouldn’t be the last dustup he got into either. To him it wasn’t a big deal, but she couldn’t know that. Not with the way they had been going at each other’s throats, or how powerful the blows they’d been landing were.