Rounding the corner to the covered walkways that surrounded the courtyard, he slowed and affected an easy stride. His breath was a little heavy, not from having run half the length of the castle, but from fear that Falke would do something to Ulyssa out of duty. When it came to the law, Falke did not deviate from his responsibility, no matter what.
“Falke!” Kirill roared to see his brother attacking Ulyssa with a sword. It was a vicious blow and for a moment Kirill froze, waiting for her head to roll. To his surprise, she countered the shot, blocking it with ease.
Ulyssa blinked and stumbled back. Falke made sure she was done with her counter-attack before letting down his guard and turning to bow to his brother.
“What goes on here?” Kirill demanded, his words harsher than he intended. He couldn’t bring himself to look at Ulyssa. His eyes glowered with golden rage. The anger was easier than the fear and he welcomed it.
“My order was to entertain.” Turning to Ulyssa, Falke asked in his serious tone, “Are you not entertained?”
“Yes,” she answered in a soft whisper. Kirill felt her eyes on him and couldn’t resist the urge to look her over. A light sheen of sweat covered her body, making her glisten in the sunlight. Trails of her hair were plastered to her face and neck, falling from her neat bun. She was beautiful. His heart sped in his chest.
“Leave us,” Kirill ordered, glancing back to his brother. A flood of desire invaded him as he watched her and he felt his body lurching to respond. Two weeks was too long a time to hold back from her.
Falke bowed toward them both and turned to go.
“Hey, Falke,” Ulyssa called after him. The Commander turned. “Thanks.”
He bowed again, letting a smile twitch the corner of his mouth, and left.
When they were alone, Ulyssa turned her wide eyes on Kirill. Her expression fell as she studied him. “Let me guess, my holding a sword is not allowed by your laws and I’m embarrassing you again. How many weeks do I get this time? Three?”
Kirill didn’t speak as she moved over to him. Her eyes met boldly with his. He liked the way she looked at him, straightforward, honest. Now that he knew she was safe, he relaxed. Her hand lifted and his breath caught. Instead of touching him, she held the sword out for him to take. His fingers brushed against hers as he took the hilt.
“So am I in trouble?” Her wide blue eyes fell down toward the ground.
She’s worried? Kirill was struck with the realization.
“No,” he said.
“Then...” Ulyssa was obviously confused. She pulled away and he lifted a hand to her face to stop her.
“Come with me, Lyssa.”
“Where are we going?” Ulyssa eyed Kirill, wondering what he was up to. He smiled slightly at her question and her heart skipped. It was clear by his stiff moments that he had been mad about Falke teaching her the sword.
“For a walk,” he answered, his hand slid down over her cheek to her neck. His fingers settled against her racing pulse.
“You’re taking me to the dungeon, aren’t you?”
Kirill chuckled. His eyes fell to her lips and he drew the blade to the side.
“Are you going to lop off my head?”
A slow, predatory grin slid across the corner of his mouth. His fingers tightened on her throat. Ulyssa tensed, wondering at the glint in his dangerous gaze. She shivered, too nervous to move. His nearness wreaked havoc on her senses. She wanted him desperately. She forgot where she was, who they were. Nothing mattered in that moment as she gazed deeply into his dark eyes.
“Come back with me to my home,” he whispered, leaning closer. The words sounded like a command.
Her lashes fluttered over her eyes. “Ask me.”
His lips brushed against hers, but he didn’t kiss her. His fingers glanced down her arm and he took her hand in his. He walked backwards, pulling her with him. Then, reaching the side of the courtyard, he turned and led her into the long halls of the palace. She followed in silence, entranced by him. Her eyes moved over his frame, straying too long at where the laces crossed the tight flesh of his hips. Her finger itched to touch him there, to run beneath the tight material to find his awaiting erection.
When they came to his home, he let her go and moved to hang the sword in its place. She watched him almost in a daze. He moved with stealthy purpose and fluid grace. Suddenly, she shook her head, trying to bring herself back to reality.
“I’m going to take a shower.” Ulyssa edged across the living room. His dark eyes turned sharply to her, hot with desire. His arousal was large, pressing unmistakably against his pants. He wanted her. “Alone.”
His gaze narrowed and his dark eyes stayed with her, tortured with his passion. Their arousal was so thick that it blanketed the air between them. “Tell me to come with you.”
“Beg me to let you,” she answered, meeting the challenge in him. If he didn’t crumble in that moment, he never would. His jaw lifted with pride and she knew that instant, no matter how badly his body burned, he wouldn’t relent. He’d never bow to her. His limbs shook and, with a force of control she’d never seen in a man, he turned and walked slowly to the bedroom.
Ulyssa had to run to the shower to get away from him before she caved to her desires and begged him to sleep with her.
“Shower on,” she stated. Instantly, the water sprayed. She hurried into the shower, washing quickly in the warm water. Then, pausing, she slapped her fist hard against the tile wall. Memories of being pressed against the stall invaded her skin. She was hot for him. And, damn her pride, she wanted to give in to him. But, she also remembered his callous words.
See, it’s not so bad to be controlled by a man. You didn’t mind my dominance over you.
She imagined him in his room, releasing his body’s tension without her and the image drove her mad. Playing dominance was one thing, but she wouldn’t let him mistake her for property, a slave. She had too much pride for that. So what to do now?
“Argh!” she screeched, slamming her hand against the shower over and over as she fought her own treacherous body. Falling limp, she whispered, “Shower off.”
The water stopped. She stepped out, grabbed a towel, and, walking out the door, jerked it over her wet skin. Coming to the bedroom door, she paused. He wasn’t there. She stepped in and moved to the closet. Through the rectangular window, she saw him leaning on the stone and iron railings of the balcony, looking off over the distance.
She didn’t think as she moved to join him. A narrow door on the side was cracked open and she ducked down to pass through. A rush came over her, not unlike that first morning waking in Kirill’s home. There was something quite magical about the view, something that stirred her soul.
The cool air hit her skin, causing her to shiver. The balcony was high off the ground, jutting from the side of the palace. The dusky green-blue sky spread out before them, glistening beautifully over the distance. A majestic display of forest and mountains stretched along to the horizon, cradling a clear lake. Its glassy surface reflected the three suns. Trees lined earth like a pile of discarded emeralds. Their leaves crashed in a gentle symphony of nature.
Her eyes came around to Kirill’s back. His body leaned over, supported on the rail. His long dark hair blew to the side, rolling in the wind. His perfect form called to her. He was more handsome to her than the surrounding landscape and she couldn’t look away.
Ulyssa stepped forward, her bare feet solid on the stone floor. Her fingers whispered forward to touch his back, startling him to standing up. Hair blew over his strong features as he turned.
Brushing the silky locks off his cheek, she said, “Just... let’s call a truce.”
He visibly stiffened and nodded once.
“Tell me you desire me.” Ulyssa left her hand on his face, letting her fingers tangle in the silken strands of his hair.
“That much is more than obvious.” His voice was low and the rich tone washed over her, making her hot for him despite the chill in the wind. H
er nipples stained and hardened beneath the towel. The wind caught the edge of the material, lifting it aside to expose her thighs.
“Tell me what you want,” she insisted.
“I want,” Kirill hesitated. She was so lovely. He did want her. He wanted her more than he should and there was nothing he could do about it. Denial only made his longing worse. I want you, Lyssa. “I want to make love to you.”
Ulyssa dropped the towel instead of answering. The wind caught it and carried it away like a bird. She darted forward and pressed her lips to his. A soft moan left them as she explored his mouth with her probing tongue.
Kirill’s hands were everywhere at once, gliding over her flesh, cupping the soft globes of her backside, pulling her lower back to him so that he could rub the indention of his arousal into her heating body. It had been too long a wait. Every touch sent a shiver of molten desire through them.
Her fingers trailed over the hard muscles of his chest, running down to his belt. She pulled his waistband free. The belt fell to the stone floor before sliding off in the wind to join the towel and neither of them noticed or cared that it was lost.
Ulyssa shoved her hand down his pants to grab his hard erection. She moaned into his mouth, pulling back to gasp for breath. Kirill’s gasp of pleasure joined hers as she stroked his heavy length in her palm. Then, shoving his pants off his hips, she smiled as they pooled around his ankles.
Ulyssa had wanted to taste all of him since the first moment she’d laid eyes on him. Trailing kisses along his jaw, she nibbled and licked her way to his earlobe. With a gentle shove to his crotch, she backed him to the railing. She lifted her hand and boldly licked her palm as she met his dark gaze. Then, reaching down, she took hold of his arousal, letting it glide in her moist palm.
“Tell me you want this,” she demanded of him. She stroked harder, longer. His hips jerked and his breathing deepened. She squeezed, causing him to cry out. “Tell me.”
“I want this,” he whispered, almost as if the admission caused him pain.
“Mm, see that wasn’t so bad, was it my lord?” she murmured, darting her tongue to lick the seam of his parted lips. For a brief moment, he sucked her between his lips, moaning in delight.
Her hand left his arousal for his chest. She pulled his shirt, sliding the black material up to expose the hard planes of his body. She kissed one nipple and then another, sucking them both hard. Kirill groaned in instant appreciation.
Ulyssa moved along his skin, rubbing her flat palms around his back and across his sides, as she kissed a hot, wet trail down the center of his stomach to his navel. The shirt dropped as she did, hiding him from view once more. Her hands found the taut flesh of his firm backside as she slid onto her knees before him. Coming to his naked hips, she lightly bit at the skin beneath his navel.
“Lyssa,” he gasped. His hands were in her wet hair, pushing and pulling as if he couldn’t decide what he wanted from her.
Ulyssa drew her cheek along the pulsating length of his hard shaft, moving up from the base to his smooth rounded tip. Her fingers squeezed his backside as her tongue flicked over the head of him. A roar left his mouth. The muscles in his stomach tightened and flexed as he took hold of her head and thrust himself forward between the barrier of her teeth.
Kirill howled in delight as she sucked him into her mouth. The wet strands of her drying hair, whipped from about her shoulders, wrapping around his thighs. The back rail held him up as she worked her mouth along him. Looking down, he knew that seeing her mouth on his arousal was the most erotically charged scene he’d ever witnessed. Her hands grasped him as she controlled the movements of his hips. Seeing was too much, and Kirill tried to jerk her back before the orgasm hit him.
Ulyssa felt his body tightening with release the moment before his hands tried to pull her off. Her fingers gripped his flesh. She sucked harder, shoving him over the edge of his climactic release. His hands gave up their struggle as he came into her mouth, letting her have his hot essence. Only when the last of his trembles subsided did she pull off. Swallowing, she looked up at him through her lashes and moved to stand proudly before him.
“I am sorry,” he said, breathing heavy. “I didn’t mean to... I didn’t drink the nef since before we... since before that first time and I—”
“Will not be drinking that wretched stuff again,” Ulyssa said, suddenly realizing where all the Var got their rigid control. Whoever invented that drink should’ve been shot upon its conception.
“We drink it for you,” he said, almost lost. “For women. So we don’t... aren’t too untamed for them.”
Ulyssa pressed her body to his and began to rub. Huskily, she murmured, “You’re half animal, Kirill. Untamed is part of you nature. You shouldn’t fight your nature, at least not in this, not with us.”
Ulyssa found she meant the words. He had to hide so much of himself, suppress his longings, his dreams, his desires, for those of his people. How could she ask him to do the same for her?
His eyes flashed with heated promise as he looked down at her. She felt the almost instant rising of his body against her flesh. To her amazement, he was ready to go again.
“More,” he growled, demandingly. It was as if a dam of control broke inside of him. “I want more.”
“Good, cause I’m ready to give you more, my lord. Lots more.” Ulyssa pulled back, liking the predatory glint to his dark gaze. His jaw lowered and a low crackle began in the back of his throat, as if he would pounce. Slowly, she moved to the rail and placed her elbows down on it, leaning over.
Kirill kicked his pants from his ankles and reached to touch the soft flesh of her offered backside. Almost in a trance, he came behind her. His fingers reached to touch her and he found she had not lied. Her body was wet, ready to take him in. The knowledge was more than he could take.
Kirill guided his shaft forward, teasing her opening with the tip as he parted her to accept him. Then, grabbing both hips, he delved forward. Another roar left him as he slid deep inside her tight body, seating himself to the hilt within her.
Ulyssa cried out in surprise. Kirill didn’t stop. He moved his hips, pumping and rocking mindlessly against her. Their primal grunts of passion called out over the distance. The beautiful scene danced before her eyes. Distance spanned from her head to the ground as he pushed her over the side of the balcony rail. The danger of her position only made her heart beat faster in her chest.
“Oh, Kirill, yes.” Ulyssa felt tears stinging her checks and was glad the wind would dry them away before he saw. Never had she felt so desired, so wanted, as she did beneath the groping, untamed movements of his body. At her words, his hips thrust faster, deeper, harder into her core until he touched her deeper than any man ever had. The tension built like a rocket getting ready to blast into deep space. “Oh, there, there, oooh right there. Oh my... Kirill!”
Ulyssa screamed as the most intense orgasm she’d ever felt racked her from head to toe. Her hot passage clamped down on him and he answered her call with one of his own. He came in long, hot waves inside her body. He stayed deep, letting his essence wash into her, marking her as his, laying claim. If not for Kirill’s hold on her hips, she would have fallen off the edge and not cared.
Ulyssa slowly stood up, weakly falling back until she came flush to his chest. She panted for breath, frail and trembling. Kirill kissed her earlobe, sucking it between his teeth.
“More,” he whispered. The word was marred by a growl.
Ulyssa’s eyes shot round in surprise. “Kirill, I... give me a second.”
“More,” he growled louder. Before she knew what was happening, she was swept up into his sturdy arms. His lips pressed into hers—passionate, strong, demanding—with a kiss that stole her very reason. When her lungs nearly exploded for want of air, he let up. She lay weak in his arms. Kirill grinned down at her, and repeated, softer, “More. I want more.”
Ulyssa moaned lightly. Without breaking stride, Kirill swept her forward to the door, and
into the bedroom. He placed her down on the bed, stood only long enough to undress completely, and then moved to crawl over her with stealthy grace. She giggled, loving the play of his muscles beneath tanned flesh as he came above her legs from the end of the bed.
“Kirill, maybe we—”
His roar cut her off. His hands pushed her legs open. And, before his lips met her center to wet it once more to him, he growled, “More.”
* * * *
Ulyssa couldn’t move from the bed. Her body was sore. Kirill’s ‘more’ turned out to be a lot, lot more. By the seventh time, she was almost ready to go and find some nef for him just to get him to give her a rest. By the eighth time, she was ready to force the nef down his throat. Luckily, nine seemed to be his limit and he finally let her rest.
His stamina was one thing, but her own surprised her. Just when she thought she couldn’t go anymore, that her body would’ve surely been raw, he’d heat her back up to the point she was squirming and begging for him to finish it. And finish it he did, until she came so hard she thought the whole barbaric planet was falling apart.
Feeling a hand on her thigh, she looked over. Kirill had awakened in a playful mood. He grinned with meaning, as his hands skimmed higher beneath the covers. His fingers found a breast and he tweaked her nipple, rolling it lightly. It hadn’t taken him long to discover how sensitive her breasts were and he used the knowledge to his full advantage.
“Mm,” she moaned in weak protest. “No more, Kirill, no more.”
“Are you sore?” he asked, concerned.
“Yes,” she moaned. However, the way he played with her nipple was causing her to forget herself again.
With lightening speed, he tossed up the covers and slid over her. The covers settled back over his hips as he rubbed his erection to her swollen opening. “Then let me soothe you.”
“I can see why your kind takes so many women,” she murmured, jokingly. She reached up to brush aside his tangled hair so she could see his face.
Kirill tensed. A strange look passed over him. “You now wish for me to take another woman?”
Shifter Fated Mates: Boxed Set Page 46