by Elise Whyles
Her toes curled as he pushed her legs higher, spreading her open completely. She gasped when he leaned forward, his dick sliding into her hot, wet sheath. His hips rolled forward, thrusting against her again and again. Each slow glide rasped against her flesh.
Frustration built, her fangs lengthening as she grabbed his head. Mashing her lips to his, she forced her tongue into his mouth, sweeping it along the inside until he groaned. Her fingers tangled in his hair, nails scratching the flesh until the succulent scent of his blood filled the air.
“Yes, yes.” Mindless, her chant echoed between them as his thrusts increased in speed and depth. Beneath her ass, the cold, hard altar shook, statues and candles falling off as he rocked into her.
Grunts and groans filled the room. Random mutters slipped past swollen lips. Bede nipped at his throat, drawing blood. Her tongue lapped at it for a second before she tipped her head back, screaming as her orgasm ripped through her. Gawain’s grunts filtered through the haze, and she arched her hips as he pounded into her. The first jerk of his cock within her revealed his own orgasm. She clung to him, tears of pleasure racing down her cheeks.
The crash of the chamber door drew both their attention. The haze of her orgasm faded into a wave of pure rage as she caught sight of three armed warriors, their eyes narrowed on them.
“Milord, Gawain…”
“Out!” Gawain roared, his fangs sharpening, dripping with venom. He grabbed the bedcover tossed across a chair nearby, draping it over her as he turned to confront the intruders. “Now!”
“We heard…”
Bede gasped as Gawain launched across the room, his body primed for battle. Snatching at the falling bed covering, she wrapped it around her, fury and embarrassment laced tightly in her blood as she stood and paced behind Gawain.
“How dare you enter my chamber when I am with my mate? I should rip your throats out.”
“Begging your pardon, we heard something break,” one of the guards stuttered, sheathing his sword. “We meant no disrespect to your mate.” The trio backed out, their gazes not on Gawain’s furious figure but on Bede hovering behind him.
Chest heaving, Gawain turned to face Bede who stared at the door. Would he cast her out now that she’d been discovered in his room? Was it forbidden to be—
Her thoughts were interrupted by the low purr coming from him as he strode toward her. With a grin on his handsome face, Gawain lifted her against him and hurried to the bed.
Bede moaned in pleasure when he collapsed on top of her, his hands already stripping the blanket away, his lips on her throat. Wrapping her arms around him, she wallowed in the sensation of his skin on hers, the scent of sex, sweat, and power hanging in the air.
Chapter 13
Bede sighed, her eyes fluttering open. Absently, she reached for Gawain, her heart faltering when she encountered cold sheets. She bolted upright in bed, her eyes scanning the room. Broken candles littered the floor, a tangled mass of fabric flowed over steps to pool at the base of the altar. An intricate metal rack hung from the wall, bare of any weapons.
Swallowing against the rising tide of fear, Bede kicked the covers off and paced across the room, the cold floor seeping into the soles of her feet. Where had Gawain gone? Was he still here within the confines of the palace? Why had he risen from their bed? Her mind raced amid the growing uncertainty that he’d left her.
“Milady?” Hesitant, a young girl hovered by the door, her pale eyes darting between the rumpled bed and Bede.
“What are you doing here?”
“Lord Gawain has asked that I show you to his home. He does not feel you should remain in the palace.” The girl fidgeted, her eyes lowered.
“Why? Where is Lord Gawain?”
“I do not know. He did leave you a note, if you can perchance read. He instructed me to read it if you were unable.” She pulled a thin slip of parchment from the front apron of her shift, her hand outstretched. “He would have left it here in this chamber but he feared another may come to wake you before I could arrive.”
Bede waved a hand at the girl, impatience rushing through her. If Gawain was serving his king, why had he not woken her?
Clearing her throat, the servant unfolded the note and began. “Bede, it is best if you follow young Ashalia, she will guide you to the safety of my home. None will dare trespass within the confines of my walls. I will join you soon, but first I must honor my word to you. Una will be safe.”
“Ashalia?” Bede frowned.
“Yes, mistress.”
“How far is it to my lord’s home?”
“Beyond the walls of the city.”
“Then I gather I shall need some attire to journey there?” Bede glanced down at her naked flesh.
Ashalia smiled and shrugged. “Lord Gawain has ordered you several beautiful gowns. They should be at his home by now.”
“I need something to wear before then.”
“Oh, I’ll transport you. Lord Gawain instructed me to serve you until his return.”
“When will that be?”
Ashalia shrugged indifferently and bent to pick up the sheer wrap Bede had worn the night before. “If you are uncomfortable, wrap this around yourself. We will go as soon as you are ready.”
Bede took the wrap, pulled it tight around her form, and sighed. She’d have a word with Gawain when she saw him again for certain. Tensing when the girl grabbed her hand, Bede gasped when the room shifted, splintering into fragments before they vanished. Several heartbeats later, she swayed, her eyes taking in the simple stone walls of a much smaller, simpler room. A small fireplace laid dormant, logs piled neatly beside it. Rough hewed timbers had been put together to form a rickety table. In the corner a huge rope and straw bed sprawled out.
Hanging from the rafters of the cabin, several leather pouches swayed back and forth. Inhaling, Bede’s eyes widened. Wine! The bags were filled with wine.
“Do you hunger?” Ashalia reached for a glass, her eyes on the bags.
Bede shook her head slowly. The hunger she’d felt wasn’t nearly as strong as she’d thought. “Not as yet.”
“Lord Gawain did say if you hunger there would be provisions. I believe he spoke to Lacet, one of our healers.”
“Thank you, Ashalia, but it’s not a concern at the moment. I’d like to dress.” She gasped when Ashalia darted across the room to lift the lid on a trunk. The speed with which the girl moved was overwhelming, although not unbelievable. As the girl rummaged in the trunk, Bede appraised the room, inching toward the window. “Tell me, does the sun rise here?”
“Yes, but thankfully it does not stay high long. A few hours at most.”
“Good.” Bede sighed. “I’m rested. Come, let us tidy about this house while we wait for Lord Gawain’s return.” Work was always a welcomed distraction.
Bede lifted a simple gray gown and slid it on. She stood impatiently, eyeing the thick layer of dust that covered the room, while Ashalia laced the gown up before pulling her long hair back and tying it with a ribbon
* * * *
“Let me pass, gatekeeper.” Gawain huffed, his fist tightening around his sword hilt. “I am bidden to do my king’s business this night.”
“Your heart is not with your king,” the young, treeish figure declared. “If it were you’d not be so inclined to disobey the rules.”
“I must pass. There is a task I must complete.”
“She is beyond your grasp.” He waved a hand to reveal the glowing symbols. “Still, your heart is pure. I will grant you passage…under one condition.”
“Name it and it shall be yours.”
The gatekeeper leaned forward, the smell of earth on his breath. “Assume nothing. Beyond this gate there lies a world of mystery. Beware one who would interrupt your quest, enemy of old he may be, he is also a threat to the future. When you return, see that you bring me the sand with which you step upon.”
“What need do you have for sand?” Gawain wondered aloud.
“None, to pass you will
agree to my terms.”
“Done,” Gawain swore, his gaze steady on the keeper.
“Pass.”
The shimmering light flickered and danced, allowing Gawain to pass through. He shuddered at the caress of magic along his flesh before he stepped out into the warm darkness of a world unseen to him before.
Stars filled the sky above him. The winking lights flanked the full moon’s brilliance. In the distance, he could see several massive structures. Their pointed roofs lifting to the sky, hundreds of torches light corridors and pathways disappearing and reappearing between the structures like veins. The scent of mortals wafted along the night air.
Striding past a massive stone statue, Gawain studied the lay of the land. His eyes narrowed when they caught on two human figures in the shadow of a colossal triangular building. He neared them, every sense vigilant. Tension radiated, his body on high alert at the faint odor he couldn’t recognize beyond the fact that it belonged to those of the underworld. It seemed unlikely a demon would expose himself to the mortal world, but one never knew.
“Well, well, what has the gods dropped into our lap but a bloodsucker.” His horns flared, eyes narrowed, the larger of the two males eyed him with disdain.
“Indeed, how trite.”
“No more than your presence.” Gawain braced his feet apart, his hand on his sword. “What is it you seek?”
“Naught,” the smaller of the two drawled. “Save to avoid your pathetic war. ’Tis rumored your kind has betrayed your own laws and crawled back into bed with the dragons. One would think you’d kill your enemy less they rise from the grave. We have no desire to be part of your war, or to give homage to the foul criminal you protect.”
Gawain shuddered, fear rising like bile to scald the back of his throat. Had Saltar risen? He had not heard of any break, but his mind had been consumed with Bede. Hoping to change the direction of the discussion, he glanced about and asked, “You know the area?”
“Why would you assume we would think to aid you?”
“Demon, try me not. It will not end well for you,” Gawain snarled, his teeth gnashing together. He would not back down from their slight, nor yield to a challenge.
“What is it you seek?”
“The Temple of Amsuloa.” Gawain eyed the pinking horizon in the distance. “There is one within it I must retrieve.” Nerves frayed, he watched the pair share a glance. He needed to get the child, needed her to be whole and safe to ease the worry of his mate.
“You seek Amuliana? She is as twisted as knotted rope. Still, we understand you worship her. Isn’t one of your own imprisoned because he was fool enough to take to her bed?”
“’Tis not the lying bitch I seek, but a child she stole from us. I must retrieve—”
“Make haste then. If she stole a child—she’ll not return her. Probably dined upon her innards.”
“If she has—” Gawain’s fangs sharpened, his claws aching. “It will be the last sup she takes. I swear it upon the head of my king.”
“Make haste. The sun rises. Seek shelter amid the temples and shafts of the mortal’s constructions. Armosi, the city where the temple stands, is two days hence east. No man may enter so I pray you’ve brought a female to aid you.”
“What reward do you demand?” Gawain reached into the front of his tunic, his fingers tightening on the limited wealth he carried.
The larger of the demons laughed a boisterous sound that startled nearby birds into a flutter of wings and squacks. “You amuse me, vampire. You quest for a child, no wealth, no glory, what more could we ask for but to continue our amusement at your expense.”
“My mate and I thank you.” Gawain bowed, his attention on locating shelter from the sun.
“Mate?” The pair shared an uneasy glance. “Your mate?”
“Aye.” Gawain nodded quickly. “The babe belongs to my mate. The gods will smile upon you for your aid this night.” Gawain gathered himself, tracing away from the two stunned demons into the cool, stone cavern of a tomb.
* * * *
Flickering light played across the floor, the crackle of wood and flames filled the air. On every shelf and mantel candles burned, oozing wax along their columns. Muted sounds trickled over the air like water.
Blankets lay strewn about, tangled on the floor with the pale glimmer of a gown. A long forgotten cloak the only cover on the bed. Taut skin covered the delicious curves of her hips, her breasts. Beneath the pale flesh tiny blue rivers raced, pulsing through her with unfettered life. Restless, her body on edge, Bede tossed about in Gawain’s bed. Her hair was matted with sweat, her face pale, gaunt. Full lips parted, moist, begging to be kissed, to be nipped at. Lush breasts rose and fell, cupped in her soft hands, her fingers plucking and tweaking the nipples into hardness.
Scarlet nails dragged down alabaster skin to tangle in the curls at the apex of her thighs. She slid her glistening fingers along the swollen, moist folds of her sex. Hips undulated, rolling with each slow insertion of her fingers into her depths.
Moans of need flowed over them, desire a ruthless master. Each slow movement a torment, building, twisting the need within him until he could feel her agony as she hovered above the abyss. Yet no matter how she moved, how she caressed herself, he realized with cold clarity she could not step into the flames beckoning her so arduously. Aching, tears of palest pink flowed down her cheeks to soak the bedding beneath her.
“Gawain! Gods, I need…” Bede’s tormented cry filled the air, her hand moving faster and faster as she fucked herself with her fingers. Biting at her wrist, she whimpered at the slow drip of blood oozing over her skin to fall on a beaded nipple. Each splatter spread a path across her skin leading to her heart. Her fingers trailed through it, painting a faint, hazy image of his brand upon her skin.
Blood stained the tips of her nails as she writhed in agony. Her fingers plucked at her nipples, teasing them. Whimpers of dismay, of pain, filled the room. He groaned at the misery upon his mate, the lust strong. Brutal, unforgiving, the master of her body, of her lust, played her much as one would a harpsichord.
Gawain groaned in searing pain, the vision floating behind his closed eyes. He could feel the icy trail of a tear down his face as he leaned against the wall. It echoed the aching in his groin. Soon, he would return to her. He would give her all she craved.
Chapter 14
Silence stretched in the early evening air as Bede lay tangled in bedding. Tiny footsteps darted about the room, and Bede cursed Ashalia’s presence. The girl barely allowed her to move before seeking to please. Frankly, after seven turns of the moon, she was sick of it. Nerves were stretched to the breaking point, and if she heard her name in that tone one more time she was going to snap.
Snuggling deeper into the bed, she breathed deeply. Flames of longing curled around her. Her body ached with need, with desire for Gawain. The softest of materials abraded her skin. Coupled with the servant’s irritating presence, Bede was ready to kill.
“Milady, shall I fetch you something to eat?” Ashalia hovered at the foot of the bed, her hands folded before her.
Bede grimaced, the very thought of food repugnant. Nay, she craved something else. Something to lay sweet upon her tongue, sustenance she could sink her teeth into. For a split second she eyed the girl’s pale throat before shaking off the thought, it would not taste nearly as sweet as her mate.
“Nay, crave no food.” Bede closed her eyes, mayhap she would sleep, dream of Gawain’s return.
“Here.” Ashalia touched her shoulder. “Sip of this. Milord left it for you.”
Opening her eyes, Bede swallowed the urge to throw the girl aside. Her nostrils flared at the familiar scent. Bolting upright, she grabbed the simple wooden cup, her eyes wide as she licked her lips. Taking a sip, she moaned in pleasure. The heady flavor of it easing one hunger as it slid warm and sweet down her throat.
“Did Gawain leave more?”
“Yes, milady. There is enough to enjoy several cups a day for a complete
moon cycle.”
“Excellent.” Bede clung to the cup, her lips pressed against the side. She could feel her fangs lengthening, sharpening to points. The rumble of her stomach eased with each sip.
Ashalia smiled and retreated, her steps silent. A moment later, a gold gown lay over the foot of the massive bed, a matching cloak atop it. Bede fingered it, smiling at the softness that caressed her fingertips. Still, she didn’t set her cup down. She sipped at the nectar within it, her mind swimming in a haze of pleasure as her hunger eased.
* * * *
Dressed and ready to start her day, Bede pushed aside the second hunger, the one building steadily within her mind and body. Each shift of the fabric against her breasts only heightened her arousal until she was ready to scream. She settled at the table and watched Ashalia bustle about the small home.
Her body started at the sensations darting over her. Unseen fingers trailing across her throat, lips pressing at her breasts, calloused fingers on the sensitive flesh of her inner thighs. She jumped at the brush against her clit, her legs opening of their own accord. Desire flowed like wine along her body, pooling between her legs, her sex moist, throbbing.
Wallowing in the sensations, Bede screamed at the crash of the front door as it flew inward, smashing to bits against the wall. Ashalia darted to her side, her hand clutching a dagger, her eyes narrowed. Fear swirled, soaking the air around Bede. She put a hand on Ashalia’s shoulder, the other already reaching for the dagger she’d strapped to her thigh.
“It would be best if you didn’t.” Guttural, the snarled command drew her attention to the tall, dark warrior standing in the doorway flanked by four others. All wore leather covering their torsos, their bare arms marked with swirling designs. None were empty handed.
“How dare you enter Lord Gawain’s home? You are forbidden…” Ashalia stepped in front of Bede.
“Be still, girl.” The leader waved her aside. “It is not you we seek. By order of the king himself, Gawain’s harlot is to be returned to the palace to face him.”