She raked her fingernails through his hair, loosening the leather thong that held his tresses in a long tail that flowed down his back. Once released, he had marvelous hair. It was the only thing about him that was beautiful. She licked her lips, imagining the tips of silken strands brushing against her nipples.
Herbret’s cock jumped in response, straining against his trousers to press her thigh. A fat tongue protruded from his rosy lips, a drop of saliva formed at the corner of his mouth.
Marissa swallowed a snort of disgust and pressed her breasts upward until his chin nearly rested on them. “Surely there is more to it. One powerless girl cannot be worth a title.”
His too-small eyes darted around the room, anxiety dancing in their depths. “I tell you true.” He took a step back, hurriedly retying the thong around his hair. “If you won’t speak to the empress, I’ll see her myself.”
Marissa flicked a dismissive hand at him. “Be my guest, but it’ll do you no good. The Eirielle wants Sabina and Hayden married. I’m afraid the empress isn’t concerned with your feelings on the matter.”
Herbret stopped in his movements, mouth agape. “Your sister? But I thought Lliandra had her under control?”
“Apparently not.” Marissa beckoned to the sofa. “Why don’t you have a seat and tell me exactly what it is about Sabina that you covet. I’m sure we can come to some sort of arrangement to help you achieve your goals.”
“So long as my goals don’t interfere with yours, is that it? Sabina has captured my heart, and although it isn’t a love match on her part, I would hope in time she would love me, as I adore her. That’s all. I want a virginal wife to be my life companion. If there is nothing more, I would like to see to your mother.”
Marissa excused him with a pitying wave. He might fancy himself in love with the Summerlands girl, but he’d given her much more than a sob story. He needed Sabina unspoiled. When she returned, she’d seek out Celia and uncover the truth of Herbret’s motives.
A quick glance at the sky hurried her pace. It had been too risky to chance a visit during their travels, but now that the court was in Paderau, Marissa would waste no more time. If the two maids the duke had assigned her were as proficient at lying as they professed, she could be gone a full day, possibly two. If nothing else, the feel of Talaithian gold in their pockets would keep their mouths shut.
Marissa walked as swiftly as she could without drawing suspicion to the secluded place she used for her transformation. The change was effortless; she focused on the bird’s black feathers, beak, and claws until she became a sleek levon. Nothing, except Zakael’s lovemaking, equaled the feel of flying. She beat her wings hard to take to the sky, spiraling up as quickly as possible, delighting in the feel of wind on her feathers.
It would take until the moon was far overhead before she reached Gaarendahl Castle, and Zakael. Soon she would feel his skin next to hers, his delicious ShantiMari flowing around her. As she flew, she fought off the bird’s natural instincts to hunt.
Shape shifting was easy to do but difficult to maintain. The key was to not let the animal’s mind interfere with one’s own. Otherwise, she might permanently become what she changed into. She’d once turned an idiot servant into a field mouse. His tiny brain melded with the animal so completely Marissa was unable to separate them. She’d kept him as a pet for a few moonturns, until he bored her and she let a palace cat have him.
The castle loomed against the sky, far in the distance. She descended, coasting on a warm current, giving her wings a rest before landing. Salty air tickled beneath her feathers, and the temptation to become one with the animal and fly for the rest of her life tugged on her sensibilities. Her talons touched the hard rock of the castle, and she shook herself, ruffling her feathers before tucking in her wings. The flight took less time than she’d anticipated. With a slice of regret, she transformed back into a woman and stepped into Zakael’s study.
He was reclining in a chair, feet on his desk. Two dogs, great shaggy beasts the color of warm chocolate, perked their ears. Seeing her, their tailsthwumped on the floor, but they did not rise to greet her.
Zakael looked up with some surprise but did not frown. “I thought you might be joining me soon.” He set aside the paper he’d been reading. “It’s been a while.”
“We just arrived in Paderau. Aren’t you going to give me a proper greeting?” She slid out of her dress, revealing her naked body. “As you said, it’s been a while.”
He took her hard and fast. No tender kiss to warm her, no fondling of her breasts to ease them into the moment. That would come later, in his bed, when he would coax her to the throes of ecstasy and leave her there, dangling perilously over the edge of sanity, his Dark Shanti shutting out life. As much as she wanted to languidly enjoy his body, right then she needed the release only he could give her. The violence only he knew she craved.
Her tender skin scraped against the rough wool rug with a satisfying intensity. Fiery shadows played across his face, contorting his features, exciting her even more. Her Mari snaked around them, entwining with his Shanti, plucking at her nerves. His lips sought hers, hungrily sucking, his tongue thrusting its way into the dark recess of her mouth. She raked her nails down his back, drawing blood, and he arched into her touch, his face twisted in delirious passion as he slammed against her with his release. She thrust her pelvis upward, shuddering with her own climax, tightening her power, cutting into his flesh.
Panting, heart racing, with sweat dripping from his forehead, Zakael rolled onto his back, his hands flung out to the side like ships bereft at sea. Empty, alone. They did not seek her for comfort as she hoped they would. She lay next to him, lazily running a finger down his torso.
His body flexed with his exhale. “How is the Eirielle? Has she mastered her powers yet?”
Marissa’s Mari snapped against the air. “Don’t speak to me of her at a time like this.”
“When would you like to then?” His voice was cold, distant.
“We can discuss her when we’re clothed.” She stroked his limp cock, but he pushed her hand aside.
“There’s time for that later. We must discuss our next move.”
She yanked her dress over her still tingling skin. “I thought we were to wait for your father’s instructions.” Her hands shook as she poured herself some of his fine Summerlands red. “Will everything be ready by frost end?”
He stared at the ceiling, oblivious to her hurt and anger. “Father thinks so, but I’m not sure. Taryn’s defeat of the vorlock has spread through the West. Her favor is growing.”
“She’s pathetic and never uses her power.” Marissa spat. “Except to lay traps for me, which I can easily detect. Her wards, however, are quite good, but you already know that. How long did it take you to rid yourself of that ink?” She took a sip of wine to keep from laughing.
He shook out his hand but didn’t answer the question. “If she hasn’t learned to control her powers yet, it could work to our advantage.” With a catlike stretch he stood, his lean body shining in the firelight.
Mesmerized by the magnificence of his physique, Marissa drank in his muscular frame, his dark hair a contrast to his pale skin. Drank in the lean legs that reclined against the chair, drank in his beauty until she was drunk.
Her body tightened, and wetness spread between her legs. She cursed her response to Zakael, cursed the power he had over her.
In an even tone, she said, “I don’t see how. From what I hear, she’s never touched her Dark Shanti. We need the trinity to be complete.”
“Exactly. And who better to help her?”
“You?” Marissa snorted into her cup. “I’m afraid, my darling, she doesn’t trust you, and I can’t say that I blame her. What with you killing her beloved Brandt and all.”
Zakael’s lips thinned to a dangerous white line. “Then you must convince her otherwise. We need Taryn to come to us of her own free will.” He looked pointedly at her. “She has to want to be here.”
Zakael descended on her, his mouth sucking at her neck, his tongue scraping over her collarbone. She swooned against him, a current of power racing through her.
With one swift movement, Zakael spun her around and held her hands behind her back. “No Mari. Is that understood?”
She nodded her acceptance of his terms, thrilled at the prospect of what came next.
They marched to his bedchamber, she in front, he behind with a firm grip on her wrists. It was awkward to walk in such a manner, but Marissa made certain her bare feet made no sound on the wood floors. Zakael’s beasts raced down the corridor, their barks echoing off the stone walls.
“Out,” Zakael ordered, and the dogs retreated to another part of the castle. Marissa was relieved. The animals always watched with a sense of judgment.
Zakael released her hands and pulled her gown roughly over her shoulders, tossing the garment aside without a thought. “Kneel.”
Marissa obeyed, her eyes focused on the floor in front of her. She loved this game of his. Loved the commanding tone in his voice, the way he could make her wild with pleasure, the way he made her feel cherished.
He stepped out of her sight, and her skin tingled with excited expectation. She heard him rummaging through a drawer, and then he left the room completely. The wait for his return wasn’t long, but in the space of those few minutes, she became frantic with need. When finally he stood before her, he was naked, his cock hard. A drip of his pleasure teased her from the tip of his shaft.
He gave a slight nod, and she flicked her tongue, catching the drop of salty sweetness. Zakael stroked her long curls, pressing her face against his thigh.
“I have a surprise for you, but you must promise to be a good girl.” He pulled her hair until she looked up at him. “No Mari, is that understood?” Her heart tripped in her chest. She’d consented to not using her power before; it was an easy enough promise to make. She nodded her acceptance again. He beckoned with his other hand, and a lovely young man stepped from the shadows.
A sliver of fear cut through her. “Zakael?” Her voice was barely a whisper.
“Shhh, don’t fret. Eiric and I are going to take very good care of you.”
Eiric’s smooth, lanky body gave him the look of a youth, perhaps no more than seventeen seasons. He moved beside Zakael and snaked a hand over his cock, stroking it while covering Zakael’s mouth with his own. The intimacy Eiric showed enraged Marissa. She’d never fooled herself into believing Zakael only bedded her, but they had an agreement that no lovers would be discussed. Or shared.
She knelt between the two men, gazing up at them as they devoured each other in a soul scorching kiss that, despite her best intent, excited her. Zakael by turns stroked and tugged her hair. Her nipples tightened into little nubs, eager for attention. Eiric’s cock bumped against Zakael’s, and the older man gave a shuddering moan. Her jealousy spiked, and she lashed out with her power.
“Enough!” Zakael glared down at her. At once, her Mari was cut off. She reached for it, desperately searched for it, but it was gone. A wall shut her out from her power.
“How are you doing this?” Fear, real fear, coursed through her. To block another’s power was forbidden beyond all else.
Zakael’s face relaxed, and her ShantiMari crept through her, embracing her like an errant lover. “Promise me, no power,” he demanded once more.
“But, how?”
Zakael shook his head and yanked on a strand of her hair. Shaken by Eiric’s presence and Zakael’s revelation that he could render her powerless, she nodded. “I promise.”
“You must trust me,” he cupped her chin gently with his fingertips, “in all things.”
“I do.” She looked up at him, meeting his hardened gaze with adulation. His hand cracked across her cheek, snapping her head back. She tasted blood, licked her lips for more.
“Say it again.”
“I trust you, Zakael.” This time a lash of leather whipped across her naked buttocks. Eiric stood behind her, waiting for Zakael’s command. Marissa’s insides clenched into a tight ball of hopeful expectation. Her blood thrummed through her, buzzing in her ears. Her vision swam, and she swayed back the slightest bit. Another crack of the lash and she pulled herself up to kneel before Zakael. “I trust you. In all things.”
Please,one more lash.
But it didn’t come. Instead, Zakael pushed himself into her mouth, tearing the delicate skin at the corner of her lips. She opened herself to him, taking him deep. He rocked against her, his eyes never leaving hers. Her hands cupped his balls, massaging them in time to his thrusts. She teased him with her tongue, scratched the soft skin with her teeth, all the while watching his face.
The lash snapped hard against her back, making her cry out and gag on his thickness.
Zakael gripped the back of her head. “Deeper.”
Another lash and she began trembling. Her fingers faltered, pinching his scrotum. Another, harder crack across the tops of her thighs. That fragile area just beneath her arse where the skin was sensitive. Tears streamed down her face, and she choked on Zakael’s cock. She was suffocating, but his hand pressed harder. Panic overtook her, and she tried to pull back, flailed her arms to make contact with something, anything.
“Breathe, Marissa,” Zakael cooed. “Trust me.” He stroked her hair, resumed his gentle thrusts. She relaxed into the movements, finding a rhythm. Eiric knelt behind her, and she stiffened, not knowing what to expect. “Easy now.” Zakael tapped her head, and she opened her jaw wider, pulled her lips over her teeth.
With a shock, Marissa felt Eiric’s hands on her, rubbing the little nub between her legs. Pleasure jolted through her, and she twitched against his touch. Her breathing quickened, her heartbeat throbbed in that small space. Zakael grew thicker in her mouth with his mounting release, and Marissa moaned into him, opening herself to take him deeper.
Eiric’s fingers quickened their pace, slick with her wetness. Zakael pounded into her, harder, faster, until he groaned and thrust deep, spilling his seed. Marissa greedily sucked it in, milking his cock with her tongue and lips, hungry for more.
Zakael slipped from her and motioned to Eiric, who stopped his wonderful ministrations. She whimpered her displeasure. The very hair on her skin stood on end, but they left her on the brink of being shattered.
Careful not to touch her, Zakael and Eiric placed leather cuffs around her ankles and wrists. At Marissa’s worried glance, Zakael smiled with genuine pleasure and assured her she was safe. They pulled her arms and legs wide and secured her to the wall with cleverly disguised restraints.
Unable to move, to touch herself for release—or to shield herself from their probing eyes—Marissa stared blankly at Zakael as he took Eiric to his bed. She watched them make love in ways she never could. The ecstasy on Zakael’s face tore at her soul. They moved like lovers well accustomed to each other’s likes and dislikes. Tears shimmered in her eyes as Eiric took Zakael’s cock in his mouth, loving it the way she had only a short time ago.
Zakael left the bed and knelt before her, looking up at her with as much adoration as she’d surely looked at him. He slipped his tongue between her legs, instantly igniting the flames that burned brightest for him. Only him. His hands slid around to her buttocks, pinching tiny bits of skin between fingertips. Eiric rose too, and her breath caught with anticipation.
He took her breast in his mouth, the warmth soothing her, his tongue grazing over her nipple, exciting her. They worked in tandem, bringing her to the edge of delirium. At the
first shudder of her release, Zakael pulled back, leaving her wanting, pulsing, waiting. She needed one more touch to send her over the precipice, but he left her and returned to the bed where Eiric joined him.
Marissa sobbed against her shoulder. Frustrated, confused, impotent. With heartbreaking clarity she realized Zakael was not hers, had never been, would never be completely hers. And there, bound to the wall where she was forced to watch her lover with another, she concluded that she had never really been his, either. And yet, watching him with Eiric, unable to use her ShantiMari, completely under Zakael’s control, she had never been more connected to him.
Zakael turned from Eiric’s embrace and met her even stare. What passed between them in that instant was deeper, more binding, than any oath.
Chapter 40
TARYN emptied the pouch on the bed, touching the multihued coins and gems. Hayden separated them, explaining the region and worth of each: gold crowns from Talaith, silver feathers from the Danuri Province, gems in several colors from Haversham, and more. Every kingdom or province made its own currency, which meant every piece had a different sum attached to it. A few of the coins were made from a black metal she’d never seen. Aergan, Hayden had called it. Its value was more precious than gold.
Trying to remember it all gave Taryn a headache. She scooped up the lot, saying, “I think the best way for me to learn is to put this into practice. I’m going to the market. Would you like to join me?”
“We must let Rhoane know you’re leaving the palace.”
“It’s no big deal. I just want to get some gifts for my maids. If I could, I’d steal them away from here.”
“A thief, eh? I should have you locked away in the dungeons.” Hayden brandished his sword, and they mock fought around his suite. When he swatted her behind, she called a truce, rubbing her backside.
The Stones of Kaldaar (Song of the Swords Book 1) Page 36