“Oh, um…” Elli felt her cheeks getting hot but she realized that they really had no choice. “I…I guess we should,” she whispered, twisting around so that she was facing the big warrior. “I just don’t know—”
But Roke cut her off with a kiss.
Elli knew she ought to protest or try not to kiss him back, but as before during their Formal Introduction, she was immediately lost. She pressed herself eagerly against the big warrior’s chest and threaded her fingers through his wild black hair to draw him even closer. He still tasted spicy and hot and his scent—a dark, smoky spice that reminded her of a night in the forest—rose around her, making her want him even more.
His scent, she thought distractedly. Is it his Bonding Scent? Do Havocs have Bonding Scents? But even if they did, why would Roke’s body make his special scent—meant to lure a female into bonding—for her? It made no sense considering that the big warrior had stated several times that he identified with the Havoc side of his heritage and he didn’t intend to bond with anyone…
“Stop! You two have to stop now!” she heard the Duchess hissing at them.
Breaking the kiss reluctantly, Elli turned to see that the Duke and his wife were back in their original position with the Duchess sitting between his legs—as was everyone else in the room.
“When the Crown Prince stops his amorous activities, you must as well,” the Duke lectured in a low voice. “That is the meaning of Mirroring.”
“Oh, uh, sorry,” Elli mumbled, feeling embarrassed. “I…I didn’t realize his Majesty had stopped.”
“That is why one of you must always keep an eye on the Royal Dais no matter what is going on,” the Duke told her. “Be careful—I’ve seen more than one couple tossed out of Supper for incorrect Mirroring.”
“We’ll watch it from now on,” Roke growled. “Come on, sweetheart—sit back against me.”
He pulled Elli back into position but she gave a little yelp when she felt something hot and hard pressing against the small of her back.
“Sorry,” Roke muttered in her ear. “Can’t help it. Now settle down,” he added, and pulled Elli back against him when she tried to sit up.
“But won’t I, er, hurt you?” she whispered, looking over her shoulder. “I mean, uh, leaning against it like this?”
The big warrior gave her an amused look.
“You really are innocent, aren’t you? No, little priestess, you won’t hurt me. Just relax and we’ll both be fine.”
Elli tried to do as he said, but the hard ridge of his shaft at her back seemed to throb with heat and she couldn’t help feeling anxious about it—and ashamed of herself for responding so eagerly to the kiss. What was wrong with her, anyway? She wasn’t drugged this time, as she had been at the humans’ Christmas party. So why was she acting like this every time Roke kissed her? She—
“The second course, my Lady,” a servant said as the bowl of slime soup was whisked away to be replaced by a platter of exotic looking fruits.
“Oh—this looks lovely,” Elli said, glad she didn’t have to fake her delight this time.
“These are the fruits of our home world,” the Duchess informed them, smiling. “Try one of the tooka-figs. They’re exquisitely juicy and sweet.” She gestured at the small, plump blue fruit she held in one hand, which she had already taken a dainty nibble out of. The flesh inside was pure white with tiny pink seeds.
Elli found a similar fruit on the tray beside their lounge and took a tentative bite. The tender skin of the fruit gave way easily under her teeth as she bit into the sweet, juicy flesh beneath.
“Mmm—so good!” she murmured and looked up at Roke. “Try one—they really are delicious.”
Roke ate one whole and nodded approvingly.
“A lot better than the soup,” he commented.
“Absolutely,” Elli agreed. Next she tried a tiny purple fruit, about the size of her thumb. This one had a slightly harder flesh and a nutty, spicy flavor she really enjoyed. It reminded her a little of the flavor of her grandmother’s spice cake. She was just reaching for a new fruit—a bright pink one, as long as her arm and tapered on one end—when she realized that no one else in the entire room was eating.
“Here we go again,” Roke muttered in her ear. “What in the Seven Hells is he doing this time?”
Elli realized he was talking about the Crown Prince. She looked up to the golden dais and what she saw made her bite her lip.
The Crown Prince had stopped eating and was running his hands all over his Bride of the Night’s body. She was moaning as his short, stubby, beringed fingers ran up and down her sides and over her breasts with long, caressing motions. Elli could scarcely tear her eyes away but after a moment she realized that the Duke and Duchess were hissing at her and Roke that they needed to be “Mirroring His Highness” if they didn’t want to get kicked out of Supper.
“You must Mirror!” the Duke was muttering to Roke. “Whatever are you waiting for?”
He’s waiting for me, Elli thought, looking up at the big warrior. Because he promised not to touch me without my permission—unless I asked him to.
“Little priestess?” he murmured, raising an eyebrow at her.
Elli bit her lip. Normally, she would never do such a thing, she told herself. But she must fulfill her vow to do anything she had to in order to get the Healing Lattice. And there was clearly no other way to get along in the Tenebrian Court.
“Yes,” she whispered, nodding her permission. “Go…go ahead, Roke.”
“As my Lady wishes,” he growled softly. And then he was pulling her back against him and running his big, warm hands up and down her body, which was bare beneath the mostly see-through lace gown.
Elli tried to hold still, but she couldn’t help shifting restlessly against him, especially when his big, warm hands ran lightly over her breasts. He was just barely touching her—teasing her, she thought—and though she tried not to want more, she couldn’t help herself.
Arching her back, she pressed her breasts more fully into his hands, her nipples feeling so tight and achy she didn’t know how much longer she could stand it.
“Sweetheart?” Roke murmured in her ear, his hands stopping their roving caresses as Elli pressed up against him. “What are you doing?”
“Just…just Mirroring, like we’re supposed to,” Elli whispered breathlessly. “We…we have to do it right, Roke. We don’t want to get…to get kicked out of Supper.”
At that moment, the noblewoman the Crown Prince had chosen as his “Bride of the Night” began moaning and gasping, drawing all eyes to the golden dais. In a minute, Elli saw why. The Crown Prince was not simply running his hands over her breasts now—he was actually circling her nipples with his fingers and then tugging gently at the stiff peaks, drawing cries of delight from his lover.
“Ellilah?” Roke murmured in her ear again. “Do you want me to—”
“Yes!” Elli pressed up against him. “Yes, do…do what you have to, Roke,” she told him. “Don’t stop!”
“As my Lady wishes,” he murmured again and then he was copying the motions of the Crown Prince, circling Elli’s nipples with his long fingers and tugging gently, which sent sparks of pleasure straight from her tight tips to the secret spot between her thighs.
“Oh!” Elli heard herself moaning as she writhed against him. “Oh, Roke!”
“Such an eager little priestess,” he rumbled, still stroking and teasing her nipples. “Is this making you hot, sweetheart? Is your little pussy getting all wet for me?”
His dirty words made Elli blush but they sent another shiver of pleasure through her too. Goddess, she knew she shouldn’t be enjoying this but she couldn’t seem to help herself…
“Don’t…don’t talk like that,” she begged him breathlessly. “I…I’m not…I’m only doing what…what we have to do.”
“Of course you are.” Roke chuckled softly. “We both are, little priestess. It’s no fault of mine that I find pleasure in stroking your be
autiful, curvy little body and tugging your tight little nipples and no fault of yours for enjoying it.”
Elli opened her mouth to answer but only another moan came out. Goddess, she didn’t know when she’d been so hot and bothered! Well, during the Christmas party she had been, but then she’d had the drugged punch to blame. What could possibly be making her act this way now?
Elli didn’t know and she didn’t care. At this point, she had become a creature of pleasure—wanting only more and more of Roke’s big, warm hands on her body, cupping her breasts and tugging her nipples…
“I say—do stop it, you two! Supper is over.”
The Duke’s voice cut through Elli’s moans and she realized, with mortification, that she was the only female still writhing under her partner’s touch. Everyone else was rising and putting on their shoes and stockings.
Looking up to the golden dais, she saw that it was empty—the Crown Prince and his Bride for the Night were gone.
“Where…where did the Prince go?” she asked breathlessly as she sat up and reached for her slippers.
“Off to the Royal Bedchamber, of course,” the Duke said matter-of-factly.
“Really? But we only had soup and fruit,” Elli protested—not that they’d had much of either course. “Is Supper always so short?”
“The length of Supper depends entirely upon the Crown Prince and his carnal appetites,” the Duchess told her.
“Lately he’s been quite randy,” the Duke remarked. “I can’t remember the last time we got through four courses together—let alone five. However…” He shrugged. “Don’t worry if you didn’t get enough. Any of the servants will be happy to bring as selection of victuals to your bedchamber. Just let them know what you want.”
“Although it seems to me that what you two most want is more of each other.” The Duchess gave Elli a knowing smile.
“Oh, no! We don’t…that is, we wouldn’t—” Elli began but the Duchess only shook her head.
“Don’t worry, my dear—Mirroring can often have that effect. Especially when you’re new to it.” And she hooked her arm through the Duke’s and winked knowingly. “Goodbye. We’ll see you tomorrow, I’m sure.”
Then, arm-in-arm, the Duke and Duchess swept out of the large Supper room.
“Well…I guess we’d better get going,” Roke growled, reaching for his boots.
“I…I suppose so.” Now that they were alone together and not being forced to touch each other, Elli found herself feeling shy and ashamed of the way she had acted. Why had the big warrior’s touch driven her so crazy when she wasn’t even drugged? Why couldn’t she control herself when she kissed him?
She had no answer to either question, so she followed Roke silently out of the room as they headed for their own bedchamber.
Twenty-Two
“You all right, sweetheart?” Roke cast the curvy little priestess a sidelong glance. She’d been silent ever since Supper had ended so abruptly and now it seemed as though she couldn’t bring herself to meet his eyes.
“Fine.” Ellilah looked down at her hands. She was sitting on one of the firmer cushions, picking at the selection of fruit Roke had ordered from one of the palace servants. But though she had professed to be hungry when he ordered it, she had scarcely eaten two bites.
Roke shook his head. He was sitting across from her—on the floor, not a cushion—so they could be more eye-to-eye.
“No, you’re not fine—not even halfway fine,” he said, frowning at her. “We’re partners here, Ellilah—you need to be honest with me and tell me what’s bothering you.”
She looked up, her green eyes flashing.
“Nothing’s wrong with me!”
“Bullshit!” Roke growled. “You’ve barely said two words since Supper! And when you do talk, you can’t even look me in the face. You’re moping around like a guilty convict about to face execution so tell me—what’s wrong?” He dropped his voice slightly. “Is it trying to tame the Prince’s zorel tomorrow? Is that what has you all tied up in knots, sweetheart?”
“Of course not!” Elli sounded exasperated. “Why would I be worried about a zorel? It’s…I just…” She shook her head, her jaw clenched as though she was trying to think how to say something. “Did you drug me again?” she burst out at last.
“What?” Roke stared at her blankly. This was the last thing he would have expected. “Drug you?” he asked, frowning. “Why would I drug you? And what would make you think I had?”
“The way…the way I reacted to you.” Ellilah sounded almost desperate. “When you kissed me and…and touched me. I was…I was shameless.” Her voice dropped to a whisper of self-recrimination. “Utterly shameless.”
Roke shook his head.
“So because you reacted when we were kissing and I was touching you, you automatically think I drugged you?”
“Well, I was acting and feeling the same way tonight that I was at the humans’ Christmas party!” she shot back. “What other conclusion am I supposed to draw?”
“Maybe the conclusion that you’re a normal, healthy female with normal sexual appetites,” Roke suggested.
“No, I’m not—I’m a priestess!” she cried passionately. “I’m not supposed to be susceptible to the sins of the flesh!”
“We weren’t sinning,” Roke said, frowning. “Not exactly, anyway. We were doing what we had to in order to keep from being kicked out of that fucking Tenebrian Last Meal ritual.”
“Yes, I know but I enjoyed it!” Ellilah cried. “I wanted more! Even now, my body is…is throbbing all over where you touched me! And even places where you didn’t touch me. It’s shameful and wrong!”
“It’s normal and natural,” Roke countered. “Of course it feels good when I touch you—we’re fucking attracted to each other. In fact, Gods…” He ran a hand through his hair. “I can’t remember the last time I wanted a female so badly,” he admitted recklessly.
“You…you want me?” Her green eyes went wide.
“The same way you want me,” Roke growled. “Don’t deny it, little priestess. I can smell your desire.” It was a warm, devastatingly feminine scent that filled his senses and made his shaft ache in the confines of his trousers.
“But I shouldn’t want you!” Ellilah put her head in her hands. “Oh, if only I had been allowed to do the Ceremony of Shriving and drink from the cup of Mortem Amore before I left the Mother Ship! This wouldn’t be happening now if I had!”
“You said something about that before,” Roke said, frowning. “What is this ‘Shriving Ceremony’ and how is drinking from some special cup supposed to help you?”
“It helps by killing all your wrong and lustful desires.” Ellilah looked up at him earnestly. “It keeps you from having sinful urges.”
“So it kills your libido? Your sexual passion?” Roke shook his head. “That’s fucking horrible, sweetheart! Why would you want such a thing?”
“So that I can stop being bad all the time.” Ellilah’s big green eyes filled suddenly with tears. “So that I can resist all the wrong urges I have and stop being such a horrible person!”
Roke was appalled at her sudden admission. Did she really think such things about herself? If so, whoever had raised her had done her a grave disservice.
“Come here, sweetheart.” He reached for her and though she resisted at first, he finally coaxed her into his lap so he could wrap his arms around her as she cried.
“I’m so bad,” she sobbed against his chest, her narrow shoulders shaking. “Why can’t I stop being so bad?”
“You’re not bad, sweetheart.” Roke’s heart was breaking for her as he held her close and caressed her back soothingly. “It’s not bad to have sexual desires—it’s normal, natural. The Goddess herself built us to have desires.”
“She did?” Ellilah looked up at him with wet eyes. “But why would she do that?”
“So we would reproduce and have children,” Roke said reasonably. “Otherwise, the first generation of Kindred would h
ave been the last.”
Ellilah sniffed and swiped at her eyes.
“I…I never thought of it like that.” She shook her head. “But only males are supposed to have desires—not females.”
“Says who?” Roke demanded.
“My stepmother.” Ellilah looked up at him. “She said that females are meant to be a receptacle for a male’s pleasure and that females aren’t meant to feel anything at all.”
“The same way females aren’t supposed to tame and train zorels?” Roke asked, arching an eyebrow at her.
“Exactly.” She nodded. “It makes a girl unladylike to train zorels and to want to…you know…have pleasure.” She glanced at him shyly.
“Let me ask you something,” Roke said. “Did you feel like this before your stepmother came into your life?”
“Well…no,” Ellilah admitted. “But I grew up in a houseful of males so nobody ever talked to me about this kind of thing before she came.”
“So you were fine and free and happy before she came along and the minute she appears in your life she starts filling you with guilt,” Roke growled.
He wished he could meet Ellilah’s stepmother. He would never hurt a female physically, but he would certainly give the evil stepmother a piece of his mind. Imagine making the poor little female in his lap feel so bad and shameful about perfectly normal desires! She had poisoned Ellilah’s pleasure with guilt and driven her into the priestess-hood where, in Roke’s opinion, she did not belong.
Some people just weren’t meant to take a vow of chastity. And from the hot-blooded way the little priestess had reacted to his kisses and caresses, Roke was fairly certain that Ellilah was one of them.
“I just…don’t want to be bad anymore,” Ellilah whispered. She seemed all cried out now, for she rested tiredly against his chest like a weary child.
“Poor little sweetheart,” Roke murmured, stroking her shining hair. “You’re not bad. I don’t care what your wicked stepmother told you—having sexual desires and pleasure is not bad. The Goddess made your body to enjoy sex—to take pleasure in your own touch and the touch of another.”
The Priestess and the Thief Page 11