by Nina, Tara
Somehow he’d deny the unyielding sexual pull inside him for Deveney. The mating ritual would not be continued for her sake. As leader of the Morphionians, he felt he had no choice but to deny himself a lifemate before finding mates for others. But was he wrong to do so? Tor nestled his brow into the soft pile of her hair on the pillow and inhaled Deveney’s distinctive scent. The ache to sample her again ignited in him.
This wouldn’t do. He tilted his chin and attempted to clear his senses of her delectable smell, but failed. Every breath filled with her. Tor closed his eyes tight against the sensory overload as guilt marched to the forefront of his brain. The debilitating mantra rumbled. Others’ needs must be met before his own if he was going to be a better ruler than his predecessor. When he took the position as leader, he swore he’d find a way to fix the mess his father left behind. In his eyes, that meant putting his people’s needs before his own.
If he accepted Deveney as his mate, then he’d be saved from turning Proprius Bestia. But then he’d have to admit he was wrong and Maven was right. Would the clans think he was weak, that he held no leadership abilities because the magi disobeyed him? Would mixing bloodlines destroy the magic as his father claimed?
Nothing eased the throb in his head as his thoughts weighed heavier on his mind. He ground his teeth against the unwanted thoughts of the men condemned to turn Proprius Bestia and forced into exile.
Indecision and turmoil flooded his system as he lay wrapped in the warmth of Deveney. His thoughts lingered on the most persistent question. What if he’d been wrong in his decision against Maven’s idea? Had Sven spoken the truth when he said Tor denied Maven’s proposal as invalid simply because he hadn’t thought of it first?
Was he that stubborn?
By the Goddess Nirvana, his mind swirled with unanswered questions and he desperately needed guidance in this matter. Tomorrow he’d seek help and prayed for direction. He swallowed hard. He also prayed for the strength to send Deveney back and not taste her voluptuous attributes again and again.
Even though his muscles ached with fatigue and his balls were drained, his shaft shifted into a semi-hard state as he snuggled next to her. Never had he wanted a woman more. He knew sending her back condemned him to a sentence worse than death, but it had to be done. He held no right to claim her and keep her here against her will.
But what if she wanted to stay?
A spark of hope brought him momentary joy as he drifted to sleep in her arms.
* * * * *
Obinu Serpentes paced his office located in Ophidian Palace. Each step echoed on the black marble tile. A wasted day. He grumbled, making another pass around the desk. He’d traveled to Bjorn Palace only to be turned away. Tor saw no one this day. Out of polite propriety, he should’ve been informed Tor postponed their meeting. He hissed.
He poured himself another glass of vinetta, a nice red liquid with highly intoxicating properties. With each gulp, he attempted to wash the unwanted scents from his tongue. A strange smell permeated the palace and coated his hypersensitive, forked tongue with every flick, leaving a foul flavor behind. If he could’ve, he would have barricaded his tongue in his mouth, but it wasn’t in his will.
Even with his mouth closed, his tongue had a mind of its own. A snake’s perception lived within the tongue. He smelled with it, and sensed danger and changes with it. He shuffled through the memories of familiar scents, trying to locate the exact match to the one he gathered that morning at Bjorn Palace.
Obinu stopped short of his chair. Suspicion bloomed. Could it have been a male mating pheromone? It had been a long time since he’d smelled the mating musk of another. His tongue flicked out and in, grasping the last drop from the bottom of the glass.
Had a member of the Bjorn clan found a mate? If so, where and how? His gut coiled and knotted as the thought took seed. Someone in the bear clan mated. Why not him? The one-hundred-year mark loomed within a few weeks.
The great Tor claimed he’d find a way to save the men of the clans or die trying? Funny… Obinu smiled. Tor wasn’t dead and if he wasn’t mistaken, the cure hadn’t been found.
Unless… He turned and stared out the window in the direction of the Bjorn clan lands. What if Tor found a way to save him and his brother? Would he share it and save them from turning Proprius Bestia?
“Why should he?” Obinu hissed between thin lips. Never had any of the clans shown anything but contempt for the Serpentes clan. Snakes weren’t exactly warm and cuddly. Obinu sneered. His clan may not be well-liked but they deserved mates or the cure just like every other clansman and he’d see that it happened.
Or die trying. He mimicked Tor’s valiant claim.
And with his birthday looming near, turning Proprius Bestia equaled death in his book. He spun on his heels, walked to the counter and refilled his glass to the brim.
The only good thing the trip accomplished was him running into Sven Artur. The sap thought himself to be a proficient cairnts player, but Obinu heard different. If the information proved right, Sven’s money would be his by the last draw of a card. Luckily this week’s game was slated for his palace. Being located on the west bank of the Diabhal River situated the Serpentes’ land closest to Bjorn land.
Obinu’s brain clicked with possibilities. Maybe instead of just relieving Tor’s younger twin of money, he’d gain information as well. Sven would know if his brother found a cure. Obinu stared into the glass as he swirled the vinetta. Did the bear hold his drink as well as a snake? Obinu doubted it. If played right, he’d gain the advantage over the Bjorn ruler and maybe, just maybe, defeat him.
What an odd turn of events. He grinned. Something didn’t feel right at the palace that morning. The strange scent still tormented his senses that even vinetta hadn’t dulled. He knew Tor wouldn’t part with the cure easily. Would Sven? The plan hatching in his brain held possibilities, Obinu decided.
As he took a deep swig of his drink, another option revealed itself. If he remembered correctly, the ancient method worked without much effort on the part of the interrogator. The only problem, it was illegal and left the interrogated with a severe headache. He hissed again. For his clan, he’d risk it. Besides, the bear would suffer the pain, not he, so it didn’t matter to him.
The palace hid something of value. He felt it in every scale on his body. Since Tor’s reign, nothing changed. The Proprius Bestia situation worsened. Earlier, Obinu went to the palace to plead his clan’s case. Not just his clan’s case, but also his own as well.
One hundred years fast approached and his inner beast ached to slither to the surface and remain there. Though he loved his serpent form, he didn’t wish to lose the ability to shift at will. He refused to relinquish his soul to that fate. Not without a fight.
If a Bjorn male had a mate, then he felt entitled to one as well. Obinu downed the last of the vinetta in one large gulp. He needed an infallible plan. Scheduled for two nights from now, the cairnts game gave him a prime opportunity he didn’t intend to pass up.
He grabbed the triangle-shaped mic from his desk, pressed the button on the side and ordered his cousin to join him in his war room. He sighed as he tucked the mic in his pocket. Just the idea of plotting against Tor lifted his spirits. If he accomplished nothing else before one hundred, he hoped he beat the bear and placed the Serpentes clan as the leaders of Eximius Mundus.
In his gut, he knew the unfamiliar scent was another male’s mating musk. It meant only one thing in the world of the Morphionian. A woman initiated the pheromone glands to excrete their addictive love potion.
He’d heard the stories of the mating ritual. The Morphionian woman turned into a sexual predator when lured by the musky scent of the male. Only mated sex cured the ravishing hunger the pheromone spurned to life.
Obinu wanted—no, deserved—that experience. His forked tongue darted in and out of his mouth. He’d heard nothing compared to a Morphionian woman mad with lust that only a sexually driven Morphionian male could sate. He hungered
to be locked in a bedchamber and made love to until his dick went to a level beyond flaccid.
Obinu shifted the raging hard-on the imagery inside his head caused. An angry snarl exited his lips. Now was not the time for this. He had a war to plan.
Being older than the males of the Bjorn clan, he held the right to mate first. Anger rippled through every cold-blooded part of him as he shifted into snake form and slithered through the small hole hidden in the wall behind his desk. If Tor wished to live, he’d forfeit whatever they’d hidden in the palace.
Chapter Seven
Deveney woke in the early-morning hours wrapped in the warmth of Tor. This was heaven. He held her loosely with both arms wrapped around her as she lay with her head nestled on his chest. The steady rhythm of his heart caressed her cheek. Breathing deep, she inhaled the unique woodsy scent that defined his maleness. From the waist down, she positioned herself snug against his side. One of her legs lay across him. If she lifted it an inch, she’d be able to rub her thigh against his magnificent cock and balls. A grin tugged at her lips. Should she or shouldn’t she wake him?
Lying partially on top of him gave her the advantage. In as slow a move as possible, she caressed the tight, tiny golden curls of his chest. They reminded her of the color of the bear from her dream. Glancing up, she noted it matched the bear’s coat in the picture imprinted in the canopy.
Every inch of him equaled perfection. Massive in size, he made her feel well protected. Asleep he reminded her of a gentle giant bear—without the fur, of course. Deveney bit her lower lip to stifle the giggle that threatened to escape. She wanted this moment of peace to watch him at rest.
From the few conversations they’d actually had in between bouts of splendid sex, she’d gotten the impression he was under a lot of pressure as the leader of this other world. She sensed something dreadful threatened the Isle of Avalonia, but he refused to discuss it. Every time she asked, he kissed her instead of replying. Not a bad way of redirecting her thoughts, but it left her with several unanswered questions.
In her book, Tor deserved to sleep. Deveney used the moment to peruse his features without fear he’d think she stared. Strong jawline. Thick shoulder-length blond hair. His chest hair tickled her nose as she lifted her head and positioned her hands to cradle her chin without moving off him. Slowly she glided her palm down his rock-hard abdomen. Mmmm, she liked a man with definitive muscle structure and his abs were glorious.
Deveney inched from his chest and hoped he didn’t wake. She wanted to feel those taut muscles against her nipples. Moisture formed between her thighs as she shifted, dragging her sensitive buds through the forest of curls on his chest and following the happy trail to his navel. She heard his subtle intake of air and sensed he awakened, but kept his eyes closed. She liked this game.
In gentle swishes, she rocked from side to side, rubbing her increasingly hardening nipples along his flesh. The action caused her inner muscles to clench in urgent need. This turned her on beyond belief. With each gentle sway of a nipple across his flesh, the wetter she became until she couldn’t take it anymore.
With catlike stealth, she straddled his waist without sitting up. In no way was she breaking the connection of his flesh to her hypersensitive nipples. When she looked up, bright-blue eyes stared down at her. His hooded gaze set her soul on fire. The thump of his stiff cock against her bottom sent waves of her juices to flood her sex.
She had to have him.
* * * * *
He knew the moment she woke, but waited. The touch of her cheek to his chest increased his heartbeat. The smell of her permeated each breath. He liked the way she teased the hairs on his chest. It tickled and he had to swallow his laughter so she wouldn’t know he was awake. Lying next to her gave him the most peaceful rest in many years. He couldn’t remember the last time he slept through the night, especially the closer he got to the hundred-year mark.
Each night his inner beast roared to life, demanding a mate to sate its basic instinct for sustaining life. Many times he’d let the beast rule him and transformed without will. Those nights he’d wandered the land, drifting, lost in thought, lumbering on all fours until he shifted back. There had to be a way to change the outcome for the Morphionian men.
Was Maven right? Did the answer lie naked on his chest, wrapped around him, increasing the blood flow to his cock? Somehow this Earth woman survived a full night of exuberant sex with him. Her strength and prowess amazed him. Tor stiffened when her nipples danced across his abdomen repeatedly. The sensuous touch of her taut peaks to his flesh got him hotter with each passing second. Tor sucked in a breath and forced his concentration on remaining still and letting her play.
But how far would he let her go? The weight of her body as she shifted to lie completely on top of him made him swell with need. Moist heat from her sex coated his skin when she shifted to straddle his waist. A leg on each side and her warm, wet sheath poised and ready set his cock to full attention.
Tor opened his eyes and stared at the Earth woman. A vision of spectacular beauty greeted him. Tousled strands of hair cocooned her face, making her eyes stand out in a deeper shade of azure blue. Those lips begged for a kiss. And with each stroke of her nipples to his flesh, he wanted her more.
Before he uttered a sound, she commandeered his cock, sinking it to the hilt in her sex. This wasn’t supposed to happen again, flashed inside his head, but burst into a shower of stars behind his eyes the moment she started a slow pumping rhythm of her hips. Up and down, side to side, then round and round.
He knew they shouldn’t do this. Last night was supposed to be their final round of pleasure. Separate, stay away, and don’t have sex with her again. That’s what he’d deemed as the proper way to handle the situation between them until he found a way to return her home.
This morning, his cock refused to obey.
Instead, he followed her lead with a steady glide of his hips back and forth. The brush of her pebbled nipples against his abdomen sent a wave of chills up his spine. Waking like this was a pleasure he wished he could have every morning.
He cupped both breasts, tweaking the tender buds until he knew they were ripe for the plucking. He released her breasts then scooped her thighs in his hands and guided their movements as one. Without dislodging their connection, he sat up, hooked her legs around his waist and seated her fully on his cock.
Deveney squealed in delight, sending a thrill to Tor’s core.
“Good morning,” Deveney stated on a husky breath.
“Good morning to you too,” Tor proclaimed right before he planted a kiss on her forehead, then lowered to capture one perfect bud in his mouth.
“Mmmm,” he hummed against the sensitive flesh. Hot liquid coated his cock as his reward and the sound of her delighted sigh coaxed him to continue. He suckled the plump tip in deep, tugged and nipped from one to the other until she whimpered in ecstasy.
Slick heat gripped his shaft and he couldn’t remain still inside her any longer. In a slow downward glide, he brought his cock to the edge, then repeated the process upward until every inch nestled deep. This pace was going to kill him. The beast within awakened and hungered for fast and furious, but he resisted. Instead, he focused on slow and sensual as the start of his breakfast feast of Deveney’s delectable attributes.
The sensation of total fullness made her inner muscles quiver. She never imagined fitting a man of his size between her thighs. When he pushed upward, she moaned. Deveney clasped his shoulders for support as his hands circled her waist.
In sync with one another, she rode as he pumped. Slow switched to a steady, even glide, then jumped straight to fast and hard. Her breasts bounced, brushing against the soft mesh of curls on his chest. Tiny shivers vibrated through her nipples straight down her abdomen to her clit as if a straight-line circuit connected them.
Tor cupped her bottom, guiding her up and down. His hot breath flushed her face as he captured her mouth in a crushing kiss. Deveney plowed her hands in
to his hair, twisting her fingers in the thick golden strands. His kiss fueled her hunger, urging her to ride harder and faster in tune with the frantic beat of her heart. She couldn’t get enough.
The growl that rumbled up his throat reverberated into her mouth, causing Deveney to gasp, breaking their kiss. An image in his eyes caught and held her mesmerized as he furiously pumped into her, lifting them both off the bed with each upward thrust. The large golden bear stared at her through his eyes.
Oh god, what did that mean? Panic collided with a solid wall of sexual sensation overloading her brain. She couldn’t think straight. Tor’s cock commanded her brainwaves, her body and her soul. It grew inside her, thicker, longer and harder, pounding into her, to the point she sensed she’d reached maximum capacity. And still it wasn’t enough. She wanted more, craved more. She wanted all he had to give.
Deveney captured his face in her hands and held his hooded glare. It was as if he no longer saw her as he fucked her hard and raw. His features shifted and she gasped. His face looked like that of a bear’s. It even felt like soft golden fur tickled her palms. She blinked and it disappeared. Unable to remain focused, she let go of his face. In a desperate attempt to remove the furry sensation, she rubbed her palms on his shoulders. It had to be a trick of her eyes, seeing things.
His loud growl snapped her from her thoughts. No bear met her gaze, just the hot, lust-filled stare of Tor. The rapid pound of his cock demanded her attention and she complied.
Thrust for thrust, she matched his tempo and shoved the image of the bear face to the back of her brain. Breathing rough and ragged, she tried to remain focused. His cock throbbed and twitched, filling her with his seed. His hands dug into her hips, massaging and coaxing himself in deeper.