The Darkest Warrior

by Gena Showalter

  With another moan, she rested the back of her head against his shoulder. The urge to slam inside her and come now, now, now made his testicles heavier, but he resisted. He would last, and he would make this good for her. Better than ever before. He would brand his essence inside her.

  Puck walked forward and lifted her onto a rock. "Hands and knees," he said, and she eagerly obeyed, placing her core at eye level.

  "Let me see my beautiful wife." He pushed her knees farther apart, revealing the most mouthwatering sight in all the realms.

  She was wet, swollen with need and the prettiest pink.

  "Going to feast on you." He traced a finger along her silken heat, dragging a groan from them both.

  "Like this?" she asked, clearly scandalized--and intrigued. "At this angle?"

  "This angle," he agreed. Liiick. The taste of this woman!

  She cried out, and undulated her hips. High on her essence, he reached out to knead her breasts, pluck and play with her nipples. Only when she begged did he thrust two fingers inside her, offering a modicum of relief.

  His wife, always a powder keg ready to blow, came on those fingers, her screams of bliss an erotic song.

  He was a powder keg ready to blow. The climax made her even sweeter.

  More... To wring a second from her, he used his tongue as he used his shaft, thrusting into her. He massaged his thumb over her clitoris again and again, increasing pressure. Little whimpers filled the air.

  More! He crawled up the rock and loomed behind her, on his knees. Though every fiber of his being demanded he sink inside her, he merely teased her wetness with the tip of his erection.

  "How badly do you want me?" he said between kisses he placed along her spine.

  She met his gaze over her shoulder, her red, red lips swollen from his kisses. A slow grin bloomed, sending his heart into a wild gallop.

  Was any woman more perfect than this one?

  "I want you--" she stretched her arm between her legs to stroke his length from base to tip "--this bad."

  Too good! Careful, careful. Must not blow.

  "Then you've never wanted anything more," he said, and drove his shaft all the way home.

  41

  Sublime pleasure rippled through Gillian. Puck filled her up, stretched and consumed her. She'd already come twice, but like the addict she was--the addict this amazing man had made her--she only wanted more.

  He was as hot as fire, as hard as stone, and he branded her inside and out. Male and female. Husband and wife.

  As he thrust and thrust, harder and faster, his motions became rougher. She could feel his desperation and hunger.

  "Kiss," she said.

  "My wife wants to be kissed?" He pulled out long enough to flip her to her back. But he didn't kiss her. He thrust back inside her, twined his fingers with hers and raised her arms over her head. The new position forced her back to arch, lifting her breasts for his attention.

  He stared down at her, and she stared up at him, watching as the pinpricks of light in his irises moved, like falling stars streaking across a midnight sky. Beautiful man. Brilliant man.

  "There are different kinds of kisses," he said, and began to move again. The tempo of their mating changed. "Is this the kind you want?" Moving in and out of her so slowly, torturously, deliciously, he leaned down to flick his tongue over one of her nipples.

  "Yes, yes, that kind. All kinds." Electric currents rushed straight to her core, and she rocked her hips, taking him deeper, harder. This was what sex was meant to be, a communion between two consenting adults. A perfect give and take. Balm for a wounded heart. Pleasure without guilt or disgust. Even...fun.

  The bond alone couldn't be responsible for this...this...miracle.

  "You've possessed me," she rasped.

  "A chuisle, I am the one possessed...by you." With his next plunge, he rocked her entire body.

  Pulse again. He might as well have cast a spell over her.

  "Kiss. This kind now," she said, clasping the sides of his face to bring his lips to her mouth.

  His tongue dominated hers as he fed her a passion as wild as the beat of her heart. Still plunging. Harder. Again. And again. Harder and harder. Faster. Her sensitized nipples created irresistible friction with Puck's chest, desire spearing her anew.

  More pleasure. A bomb set to detonate. She tangled her fingers in his hair, dug her nails into his scalp. Her nerve endings hummed and vibrated, fire blazing inside her bones. The flames grew and flickered over every inch of her.

  The rest of the world had long since vanished from her awareness.

  She arched her hips to meet his next thrust, sending him even deeper. Yes, yes, yes. A breathless cry, needy and plaintive--had the sound really left her? "Puck!" She arched her hips again, gasped. Yes, yes! "More of that."

  "You feel so good, wife. Nothing better." Slam, slam. Slam.

  Three...two...one. Detonation!

  Her mind shut down, bliss ripping through her, another plaintive cry leaving her. This was more powerful than any other climax, strong enough to shatter her piece by piece, but sweet enough to put her back together again.

  "Can't last...going to... Lass!" Puck shouted. He thrust once more, deep, so wonderfully deep, his entire body shuddering against hers as his orgasm overtook him.

  As soon as he collapsed on top of her, he shifted his weight. His arms remained wrapped around her in a hold that said my wife goes nowhere without me.

  Content but still breathless, Gillian cuddled against him. When her thoughts cleared, she said, "Have you ever been in love? Romantic love, I mean. With a woman besides me."

  "No. I never allowed myself to get to know one."

  Besides William, and then Puck, she'd never taken the time to get to know a guy, either. Puck wasn't perfect, but he was perfect for her. And he would make an amazing king. In the maze, she'd gotten a front row seat to his strength, ingenuity, determination, honor and resilience. Amaranthia needed him. The clans needed him.

  I need him.

  "You said the Oracles have never been wrong," she said.

  Rubbing the bird tattooed on his chest, he said, "That is correct."

  "What if we can do the impossible and prove them wrong--about everything? What if I can help you achieve your dream, without killing it? What if I can have a happy ending with you?"

  "I want this," he said, his tone fierce. "I will have this."

  On the other end of the spectrum... "What if I can't prove the Oracles wrong?" Fears deluged her, a scourge she couldn't beat back. "What if I destroy your dream? What if I can't have a happy ending with you?"

  Prepare for the worst, hope for the best.

  "In this, we cannot live by 'what if.' And I did warn you. I won't let you go unless I must do so to save your life. Haven't changed my mind. Won't. Know that I will do everything in my power to ensure you remain mine. I will kill my brother, and I will fight for your happy ending."

  Such ferocity...she shivered. "Do you want children? One day, I mean."

  His pupils flared over his irises. "I do. And you?"

  "Yes." Little boys with midnight-sky eyes. Little girls with long black lashes.

  Silent, thoughtful, Puck peered up at the sky for a moment. "Come," he said, and swooped her up against his chest before standing. As he waded across the river, cool water caressed her overheated skin.

  Once they reached the other side, he continued holding her, and carried her to the camp.

  "Time for our rest," he said.

  "We should find clean clothes and weapons first," she said, and yawned.

  He shouldered his way into the biggest tent and gently placed her on her feet. With a grin, he gave her butt another playful smack. "You're part of my stable now, woman. You'll do what you're told if you expect mercy from your master."

  That grin...he looked so young and boyish, so silly, beautiful beyond imagining. His eyes glowed like runes; the stars had completely taken over.

  This was the man he was born
to be. The sweetheart his father had tried to beat out of him. The party-on-legs his brother had nearly destroyed.

  This was Puck Connacht, Gillian's husband.

  Then his words computed, and she sputtered. Part of his stable? "Ha! In this relationship, I'm the master, and you are a stallion in my stable. You've already got the legs for it, big boy."

  He gave a mock growl. "You like my legs."

  "Do I?" She studied her cuticles.

  "The day I returned to Amaranthia, you Hulked-out. I carried you to bed, and for the longest time, you refused to let me leave it. You clung to me, rubbing against my legs at every opportunity."

  Had she? Well, why not? She was a smart girl. "FYI, if you try to form a stable, I'll cut off your precious and make you eat it. Mean that from the bottom of my heart, baby."

  Her words must have pleased him. His shoulders squared, and his spine went ramrod straight with pride. "You can't get enough of my precious. Perhaps I should take my desires elsewhere, however. I remember a time when you told me I had permission to--"

  "Consider your free pass revoked. You are mine," she told him, adamant. "Only mine."

  Again, he grinned down at her, causing her heart to skip a beat. "My wife is so possessive."

  "Your wife is dangerous when crossed." She scanned the tent. Well, well. The former owner had collected weapons, everything from axes to swords to bows. A mound of furs provided a soft, warm bed and a pot of stew simmered above a fire. Smoke curled to an opening in the tent's roof.

  Every need met.

  "You want the truth? No other fillies compare to you." He smoothed tendrils of hair from her cheeks before tracing his thumb over her lips. "Why would I ever attempt to ride another?"

  She stepped closer to him, so close her breasts flattened against his chest. They were skin to skin, male to female. Desire to sizzling desire.

  Shivers slipped down her spine as she gripped the base of his shaft. He was hard again. Just the way she liked him. "I'm going to make you so glad you said that."

  42

  Without a doubt, this is happiness.

  Yesterday, Puck had done all of his new favorite things. He'd skinny-dipped with Gillian. He'd made love with her on the rocks, and come so hard his brains had rattled against his skull. Later he'd made love to her in the tent. He'd fed her by hand and enjoyed being fed by her before going to sleep with her body cradled close to his.

  Gillian before war.

  Gillian before everything.

  This morning, he'd left before she'd woken, writing her a note in the sand.

  Stay put. Please. I'll be back.

  Then he'd gone hunting. Hours had passed before he'd found what he needed. More hours had passed as he'd worked to acquire what he wanted. Upon his return, he'd expected protests from Gillian. Or a demand for answers, at the very least. Instead, she'd brightened and run into his arms. Her splendid laughter had filled the camp, and his soul, as he'd swung her around.

  "I won't destroy your dream. I won't," she'd said, as if she'd worried about nothing else all day. Though he'd soon come to learn his wee wife had spent her time gathering every weapon in camp and studying a map of Connacht land. "One Connacht murder and crown, coming up. We're forging ahead, all systems go. Right?"

  "Right," he'd said, and relief had wafted from her.

  Without William here, Puck had no worries. He would defeat Sin, would save Amaranthia and would have everything he wanted.

  He'd planned to abandon the camp today, but his time in the forest had cost too much daylight. They had to stay one more night. Such a travesty.

  Now, moonlight streamed through a crack in the tent flap, bathing Gillian with a soft amber glow. She was splayed naked atop a mound of furs, purring as Puck traced a slice of speir around her nipple. The little bud puckered when he licked away the droplets of red juice.

  Her breathy moan delighted his ears. Who was he kidding? Every part of this woman delighted every part of him. Indifference was nothing more than a buzz in the back of his mind.

  Puck switched direction, tracing the fruit over Gillian's lips. As she opened, ready to bite, he popped the slice into his mouth.

  "Brute." She laughed, so sensual, so erotic. "That was mine."

  "No, this is." He reached under the pillow beside her and withdrew a large jar of cuisle mo chroidhe syrup he'd managed to harvest.

  With a squeal of joy, she jolted upright and clutched the jar between her breasts. "This is why you were gone so long?"

  He nodded.

  "Oh, Puck." She leaned over to nip at his lips. "Thank you. I mean, I haven't had any more Hulk-outs since, you know, the last one and everything, and right now I'm almost positive I'll never have one again, because I'm just so happy, but thank you!"

  I did this. I made her happy. "For you, I'll do anything, at any time, anywhere."

  "Then you'll stay right where I put you, right now, and let me have my wicked way with you." After pushing him to his back, she opened the jar and dribbled syrup over his chest...and lower.

  Then she used him as an all-you-can-eat buffet.

  When she collapsed on his chest, he marveled at the feel of her body draped over his like a blanket. For a long while, they lay together, hearts calming as they breathed each other's air. This was heaven, a satisfaction he'd once only dreamed of achieving.

  "I was going to ask if you liked what I did," she said, "but my ears are still ringing."

  "You amaze me." He lifted his head to rub the tip of his nose against hers, a playful gesture from the boy he used to be.

  "You sate me."

  "Good. Remember that. Because I think I'm about to anger you." His grip on her tightened, lest she try to run. "I figure part of you wants to stay here as long as possible in case William and Peanut show up. Is this correct?"

  She nibbled her lip, nodded.

  "We must move on tomorrow, whether they've arrived or not. You know this, aye?"

  She surprised him by nodding again. "I do, and I agree. For all we know, they're outside the realm, unable to return. But that's okay. You've got me, and I won't rest until you're king. So what will be your first act?"

  Easy. "Women will be granted the same rights as men. Equal citizenship. I will erect more shelters and orphanages. Will enforce steep punishments for those who harm others."

  She smiled and petted his chest, clearly pleased with his answer, and so beautiful he was instantly snared, unable to look away. He'd already memorized the stunning purity of her irises, light brown ringed by darker brown. The beauty of her cheekbones. The delicacy of her nose. How her lips were ruby red and tantalizingly plump.

  But a horrifying thought arose, one he couldn't shake. If he truly loved this woman, could he keep her bound to him when her feelings for him might not be true without the bond? When, if unbonded, she might want another man?

  Puck...cared about this. He cared deeply. So deeply the plans he'd made began to go up in flames, one by one. His certainty, gone.

  He would do anything for this girl, he realized. Even let her go.

  There was only one way to learn the truth. And they had to learn the truth. Otherwise Puck could cheat her of the life she wanted and deserved. "I think... I think I should sever our bond, as planned. No matter what."

  "What? No." She sputtered for a moment. "We decided. Without William, you get the crown and the girl. We stay together and ensure I get my happy ending."

  "I hope so." Once, he'd lied to her to get what he wanted. Never again. He trusted and respected her, and would always do right by her. "I hope you still want me afterward."

  She jolted upright, her cheeks pale, waxen. "You believe the Oracles. You think I'll destroy your dreams."

  "You've already destroyed my dream, lass." Truth was truth.

  She flinched, as if he'd struck her.

  Puck reached for her, but she scrambled to her feet to dress in the clothes they'd found last night. A small white tunic, sheepskin pants and a pair of combat boots.

>   Covering her nakedness should be a crime.

  He hurried in front of her and gripped her forearms to hold her in place. When she tried to break free, he gave her a gentle shake. "Let me finish."

  "Why? Is there another part of my heart you'd like to trample?"

  Ignore her words or crumble, my only choices. "My dream of ruling Amaranthia has been replaced by a dream of making you happy, always. I do not mourn the change."

  Her features softened but her gaze pleaded. "The thought of ruling the entire realm at your side makes me happy."

  "I would love nothing more than to spend the rest of eternity with you at my side. We'd have babies, make a family and govern the clans together. When I sever the bond, all you must do...is want me." Their future was that simple, and that complicated.

  "I want you now," she said, lifting her chin.

  His heart broke, but he refused to change his mind. "I will set you free. I will not bend on this."

  "Well, excuse me if I don't believe you. Only minutes ago you said you'd keep me no matter what!" Rather than slap him, like he expected, she clung to him. "You're being foolish, listening to fear rather than your wife. I'm telling you, I know I want you, and the bond is not responsible."

  "Gillian--"

  "Are you the Ice Man right now?" she demanded. "Is that how you are able to say and do this?"

  "I am not the Ice Man," he said. "I'll never be that man with you again. I can't. I feel too much. I feel everything."

  She flinched a second time but said, "If you let me go--" For a moment, she looked as if she was going to hurl the contents of her stomach. "If you let me go, I won't get my happy ending. That is the reason it was prophesized. I feel it."

  No. No! This was the only way to ensure she got her happy ending. "How can you know what you want? The bond speaks for you."

  "I speak for myself." Ashen, she pressed her hands against her chest. "Does the bond speak for you?"

  Did it? How could he know? As soon as he lost his connection to Gillian, Indifference would have power over him again. Only for a bit, sure. Puck would use the shears. If he could. Could he use the artifact more than once?

  So many unanswered questions.

  "If you want me afterward," he said, doing his best to sound reasonable, as if his mind wasn't a war zone, "we will bond again."

  She stumbled backward as though he'd pushed her. How could she not understand? He did this for her. "You hesitated," she said. "You don't think you'll want me."