Moon-Kissed

by Amelia Hutchins

  I watched him remove the armor from his legs and arms, and then his heavy boots. He then stood, doing away with the chest plate that had kept my blade from finding a home in his stomach. It hadn’t even looked like armor during battle, causing me to aim for his heart, yet what I’d thought were merely clothes was armor. Dick.

  He didn’t stop there. He lifted his shirt off over his head before peering around the empty room. I took in the broad, muscular physique of his back. He was all smooth, powerful, and toned muscle that was just enough and wasn’t too much like some men had. The toned muscles of his back flexed as he reached for two glasses. He picked up a bottle of whiskey that sat beside the bed, turning to peek at my curious eyes. Once he’d balanced all three, he smiled darkly at me.

  Returning to the chairs, he placed the glasses on the small side table, pouring them to the rim before offering me one. I studied his outstretched hand like it was poison, and he inclined his head, cocking it to the side while he waited for me to accept the drink, with a challenge dancing in his eyes.

  I grabbed it, sitting back quickly before holding it to my nose, watching him like a viper. Once I was assured he hadn’t poisoned it, I took a swig and swished it around in my mouth before swallowing, enjoying the slight burn as it went down.

  Looking toward the fire, I fought the need to run my eyes down the hard, chiseled body he’d bared. His muscles were well-defined and curved in sharp, contoured lines that my eyes wanted to caress leisurely. His body was sleek, powerful, and covered in midnight-colored tattoos wrapping around his hips and moved up to his shoulders, disappearing behind them.

  There was a preternatural grace to his movements and body that drew my stare back to it. When I lifted my gaze to his, I found him studying me as I had done to him. His eyes glittered brightly, sparkling with amusement, most likely from the blush filling my cheeks from imagining that toned, sleek body against mine, moving in sinful ways. Swallowing uncomfortably at my train of thought and the direction my libido walked me into, I blanched. I was eye-fucking the ogre-fart who had just outwitted me.

  My gaze averted to the fire, observing him out of the corner of my eye as his jaw clenched. He continued to study my moonlit profile, painted colorful by the moon’s shining light.

  Without the moon, I would appear normal and plain. My rainbow-colored hair would turn platinum, while my sparkling eyes would return to a deep azure blue that looked bright because of my skin’s paleness, and had the moon been full, it would have revealed more of my true nature. Unlike his bronzed flesh, mine was much paler and lacking pigment. He should have been anything but tanned with the lack of sunshine in their kingdom.

  “You were looking for someone. Who was it?” His question caused my teeth to grind together before my stare slowly slid back to his. “I asked a question, Little Bird. I expect an answer.”

  “Suck a dick, asshole,” I chuckled, lowering the hand that held the drink.

  Without warning, I tossed the whiskey into his face and rushed toward the door. I didn’t make it there, not even close. His body slammed into mine, taking me to the floor hard and punishingly.

  He weighed more than my horse did. Using my leg, I rolled him over hard but didn’t stay on top for long. His body lifted before rolling, holding me beneath him, trapping me with his weight. He stretched my body, forcing my arms over my head with one hand, the other pushed against my throat. It was a dominant move, exerting control that I needed to fight.

  My hips bucked his body, and my eyes rose to lock with his. The look burning in his gaze was savage, hungry, and carnal lust all mixed into one cup of oh hell no. Swallowing hard, I shivered beneath the hand pressing against my larynx threateningly. His mouth tightened, and his eyes turned hard as if he didn’t like the fact I had stilled. Had he wanted more fight? I wasn’t done struggling to escape, but his touch had given me pause.

  The sound that left his throat was strangled, almost feral. I trembled from need, flabbergasted that beneath his body, mine responded. Bodies were stupid and pathetic like that.

  He noticed, and those light blue eyes lowered to my mouth as he smiled cruelly, holding tighter onto my wrist. The hand on my throat remained the same, there to prevent me from fighting him. It was a silent threat of violence that if I so much as moved a muscle, he’d make good on it. How fucked up was it that I wanted to see if he would?

  I parted my lips, and he lowered that icy stare to them, dropping his head as if he intended to claim them. I wetted my lips, but his mouth never brushed against mine. Instead, his nose rubbed the soft column of my throat, and I bucked against his touch. Panic thundered through me at the proximity of his mouth to the artery, feeding blood to my brain.

  “Hold still, woman,” he demanded, inhaling my scent before he lifted back. The asshole watched me struggling beneath him until something very male and dominant pushed against my apex. “I’d hold still if I were you. Unless your thrusting body is an invitation to soothe the baser needs of your cunt,” he rasped out abrasively, his voice wafting over my skin.

  “Get the fuck off of me!” I demanded through the panic invading me, burning with resentment that I was considering doing just that. His smile curved into a wolfish grin that promised to draw blood. “You ogre motherfucker, get off of me now!”

  “No,” he growled, watching me jerking beneath him. “You’re rarely out of control of what’s happening to you, aren’t you? You like control, and you have none at this moment, and it burns like acid through your veins, doesn’t it?”

  “I’m going to eat your fucking face!” I slammed my head into his, gasping in pain as he released me to grab his nose that was pouring blood everywhere.

  I was up in an instant, rushing from the bedroom into the empty hallway. I looked toward the staircase, hearing men’s voices below. Hurrying in the opposite direction, I inched toward the darkness. I began trying doorknobs until finally finding one unlocked, and I slid into the room, softly pulling the door closed behind me.

  I lifted my hand to my lips, finding them bloodied from where his nose had connected with them. I stepped back, spinning in the darkness, and screamed as I was picked up and slammed against the wall. My head bounced off the plaster and fell forward to slam into his chest. Baby blue eyes sparkled with exhilaration until I pushed against him. Not with strength, but with the magic of the moon that entered the room at that exact moment, and I forced myself into his mind.

  I was no longer in the same room. I was within him, seeing from his eyes, witnessing something from his past. My eyes slid around this new room filled with darkness where he was naked, his body glistening with the silver moonlight that lit the woman’s face that he was pleasuring. I watched her beautiful features soften as her lips parted, his name escaping in a whisper while he pounded against the flesh in which she’d let him sate his unending hunger.

  “Torrin,” she uttered in lust, her voice a melody he ached to hear.

  “Shut the fuck up and come for me,” he demanded, unable to get deep enough or feel enough. “I need to feel your pain,” he admitted, needing her pain to find his pleasure.

  The hunger was eternal, and not even she could sate the need he felt. Torrin pushed her legs up further, and I watched her eyes light with pain at the sheer size of his cock. His mouth lowered, claiming her lips to devour the noises escaping her lungs.

  Pain.

  Torment.

  Terror.

  Torrin was the monster who delivered her pain and pleasure. He enjoyed the look of terror that flashed through her pretty eyes while his body thrust and jackhammered into hers without mercy. Tears slid from her eyes, and Torrin moved faster, harder, pushing his hand down on her throat while she gasped for air. I felt his need to taste her pain. Worse than that, I felt his need to give her pain. He wanted to leave her covered in marks on her beautiful skin that would welt, standing as a reminder that she’d been his.

  Torrin gave her pain when he sought pleasure. He didn’t relent, coul
dn’t. I watched him fuck as a beast possessed. The need to seek the hunger’s edge driving him to madness as her moans turned to whimpers and then cries of pain instead of the pleasure he’d wanted to give her. Unsatisfied, Torrin pumped his hips a few more times and started moving slower, easing the pain to bring her pleasure.

  Bodies could break.

  Minds could close down.

  I could feel what Torrin was feeling and glimpsed his inner turmoil through brief flashes of his memories. He stopped seeking bedmates when the need to fuck became primal, and he hurt those who thought to take pleasure with him. He started allowing another male to feed them pleasure while Torrin gave them pain. That way, they never knew Torrin was delivering pain as he sated his hunger on their bodies.

  He made them imagine it was an incredible pleasure they felt, and it worked. He found release with them. Lately, though, it too had become numb and muted over the last fifty years. He turned, staring out the window where the darkness filled the kingdom, before looking down at the woman, who stared like an entangled animal snared in a trap.

  Rolling off of her, Torrin moved toward the table, dick covered in her juices and still fucking hard enough to wield as a blade. My body shuddered, listening to her retrieving her things and rushing from the room in fear.

  Exhaling, he placed his hands onto the ancient wooden table in the bedroom and poured over maps marked with locations, showing information regarding the library.

  “Get the fuck out of my head, bitch!” Torrin snarled angrily.

  He ejected me from his memories and grabbed my throat as a strangled cry expelled from my lips. Torrin slammed my head against the wall, and darkness washed over me. My body slumped into powerful arms that caught and lifted me.

  Chapter Three

  The sound of flames crackling against wood woke me from a pain-filled sleep. I whimpered, trying to place my hands onto my head, only to find them tied to the arms of the chair. My eyes glared down at my naked thighs, slowly moving to the rope wrapped around my knees, wrist, and leading up to my throat. I gasped, leaning forward, and my legs parted. I placed my head down, studying the way my body moved.

  Frowning, I glared at the ropes, noting the thick knots that wouldn’t allow me to escape. I moved my hands, and my knees rose higher while something behind me squeaked as if I were on a pulley system. My brows furrowed as my attention swung to where I sensed Torrin’s presence.

  Torrin, Head of the Guard, the dark warlord of the army that served King Aragon, reclined on the bed, silently observing me while I took in how helpless I was. I swallowed past the pain in my head, staring at the sleek, toned muscles on display.

  His arms were sprawled behind his head, folded, while an impassive look held my stare. He was all toned muscles and dark tattoos that drew the eye to them, keeping them prisoner while I tried to discern what the inked text said or meant.

  “What kind of shit is this?” I whispered past the dryness in my mouth. How long had I slept? Groggy from pain and from endless days of riding to reach this village, I dropped my head back. Torrin pulled on the rope, forcing my legs open, leaving me in a sinful position as I snapped my head upright, glaring at him murderously. “I’m going to enjoy cutting you up into tiny pieces and eating you.”

  “You talk too much about murdering people for something so weak,” he grunted, moving to sit up, which caused his muscles to ripple and bunch tightly at his abdomen. My eyes slid over the masculine form, drinking in the sight of the warlord who had seen more wars than I could count.

  I’d heard of Torrin, of his mercilessness in battle and the coldness he exuded toward his enemies. If this asshole had wanted me dead, I’d be dead already, and we both knew it. He was keeping me alive for something more than dragging me to his king’s feet and dropping me there.

  “How did you get into my head?” he asked, standing up to move closer to the chair. I slowly adjusted my eyes, yet I could still not take him in without becoming a puppet as he neared where I sat.

  I’d been knocked out when the moon-sight activated, which meant for the next few hours, my eyesight would be utter shit up close. I repeatedly blinked, trying to force it to revert to my heightened sight, but failed. I closed my eyes tight because the head pain would worsen from seeing triple of everything if I didn’t.

  Moon-sight was the ability to see within the darkness, fed to us by the moon. If the moon were only a mere sliver, we wouldn’t be able to see into the darkness. Tonight, though, it was a crescent moon, allowing me to use it’s light because it wasn’t a full moon. Firelight didn’t affect me, but being trapped in a room with lanterns lit forced my vision to swim after being in the dark for so long. Plus, the pain was piercing my skull.

  Something pushed against my lips, and I groaned, turning my head, which, of course, opened my thighs more. My eyes opened, narrowing as one hand gripped my jaw tight, and the other pushed a finger against my lips.

  “Suck,” he ordered.

  The scent of moonflower dust hit my senses, and I opened my lips, moving my tongue over his finger, covered in the substance.

  Torrin hissed the moment my lips closed around it, licking every speck from his finger until my teeth skimmed the offending intrusive appendage. I licked more until I was certain I’d consumed all the dust, slowly dancing my tongue around the finger he’d pushed in between my lips. Biting down, I enjoyed the hiss of pain that escaped him. His hand against my jaw tightened, applying pressure until my mouth opened to release the bleeding finger.

  I opened my eyes to find him studying my lips while my tongue darted out, dragging over them to claim the dust and blood left behind. To the Moon Clan, moonflower dust was addictive and caused our bodies to heat and burn with need. It was an aphrodisiac but also a cure that remedied moon-sight sickness, among other things.

  “I want to know how the fuck you got into my head and could see my memories,” Torrin demanded and then snorted when I just continued staring at him. His hand lowered, and his fingers pinched the muscle of my thighs that connected my sex to my leg.

  I gasped, crying out as he watched me through impassive eyes that studied my reaction. I closed my lips and stared at him in an open challenge. His other hand lifted to pinch the other side as knuckles skimmed over my sex, and I trembled violently, which caused his eyes to drop to where my body clenched with need.

  It wasn’t something that I’d meant to do. My response to his touch had been a knee-jerk reaction that had made my entire body clamp down with desire. Torrin’s eyes narrowed to angry slits, and he stood abruptly, moving toward the chair across from me. He ran his thumb over his bottom lip before he grunted and steepled his hands in front of his mouth.

  “What the fuck does your king want with the Sacred Library?” I demanded, uncaring that I wasn’t in a prime position to interrogate him, but, hey, obviously I had to try. Right?

  “How the fuck did you get into my head, little girl?” he countered.

  “I’m not little. You’re an ogre, Torrin.” Those frost-colored eyes lifted to lock with mine, holding them prisoner as a sinfully dark smirk played on his lips.

  “Did you enjoy watching me fuck her?” he countered huskily.

  I swallowed hard, dropping my eyes to the monstrous cock that had been pounding into the woman, who hadn’t been tiny by any means. She’d been much larger than me, and she’d had actual tears of pain escaping her eyes. He’d craved violence, which should have horrified me, yet it hadn’t in the least bit.

  Curiously, he hadn’t finished with her while she’d come twice in the matter of moments I’d watched her through his memories. That, and the map, had been worth the pain I endured to reach inside the mind of someone and see what or who they were. Normally, they never knew I was inside their minds, but Torrin felt me there immediately. It was disturbing and a little unflattering how quickly he’d sensed me searching his memories.

  We were at an impasse. His eyes searched my face while I felt the telltale si
gn of a blush, heating my pale cheeks. Torrin’s lips curved into a knowing smirk that I wanted to slap from his face. Violently.

  “You undressed me,” I stated, not bothering to frame it as a question. It was a fact.

  “You got blood on your—whatever the hell it is you women wear. It’s being washed since we’re about to travel through the passes, and there are starving creatures within the darkness. I figured it was easier to have it cleaned than bring you to my king in torn up pieces. Not that I’d be opposed since you’d be much easier to deal with.”

  “I won’t help your king, so you might as well walk away now.”

  “Oh, but I think you will. You see, your people are suffering from moon sickness, and you’re after the same thing we are. You want to stop your people from dying, and we want to find the library that holds the answers you seek.”

  “I’d rather suck you off than help your king find the Sacred Library,” I admitted, watching his eyes sparkle with intrigue, lowering to my mouth. “What could Aragon possibly want inside that library, anyway?”

  “That’s not something I’d ever tell you,” he growled, rubbing his eyes.

  I injected myself into his mind, closing mine off to him. Instead of gaining access to his thoughts, I was met with a vision of him peering down at me. My legs were up around his shoulders, and he was devouring my mouth as I whimpered, crying out for him to thrust harder, faster, and deeper. He lifted, showing me how he looked within my body, and I ejected my mind from him, gasping as pain lanced through my head and blood dripped from my nose.

  Wintery eyes sparkled with amusement. I continued struggling to regain control of my breathing that was ragged and stiff, unable to get enough air into my lungs. Nausea swirled through me, and I blinked past the pain that caused my eyes to water. He’d fucking blocked me from his thoughts, showing a vision of us together. I trembled at how his cock had looked within my poor vagina.