Текст книги "Eyes of devious burgundy"

Автор книги: Lacey Lehotzky

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Текущая страница: 38 (всего у книги 43 страниц)

The praise went straight to my core. Saliva dripped around him, and soon, wet, sloppy sounds filled the silence, punctuated by heavy breaths and curses from Rokath when I took him deep. Then, without warning, he pulled me off him and hefted me. Spinning us, he settled me on top of a smooth rock, then spread my legs and knelt between them. “I need to taste you. See if that’s the taste of victory,” he moaned, then swiped his tongue through my slick folds.

“Fates,” I cried out, grasping for purchase on something, anything, as he flicked my clit.

“They don’t give you pleasure. I do.”

“Yes,” I panted, mind blanking as his rough beard tickled the sensitive skin between my thighs. My mind blanked of everything but him. “Rokath, fuck, I need more.”

A growl rumbled against my center, and he slipped two fingers inside, joining his tongue in working me to a frenzy. “I was right, little imposter. You do taste like victory. Now come for me and drown me in your arousal.”

He curled his fingers against my inner walls, stroking roughly as he lapped at my clit, and I shattered, crying out his name. Body snapping like a whip, my muscles clenched around his fingers, head tipped back to the sky. “Your cries are so pretty, Assyria.”

Still, he did not relent, pulling every last drop from me as he spread and speared his fingers. “Fuck, Rokath,” I panted, sweat rolling between my breasts and down my stomach.

Only then did he rise, my arousal glistening in his beard. He wiped it with the back of his hand, then pumped his dick while raking his gaze over me. “So damn beautiful,” he murmured as if he were venerating the body that just wept for him.

He nestled between my thighs, then gripped the back of my head with his free hand. “I want you to keep your eyes on me the entire time, understood?”

“Yes,” I whimpered, barely resisting the urge to scoot closer so his head would slip inside me.

“Mmm, good girl,” he praised, then split me apart with one powerful thrust.

My mouth popped open and a gasp slipped out as more pleasure swept through me. Rokath was massive, and we didn’t couple often enough for me to be nearly used to his size. Each thick inch of him stretched me, brushing against every nerve. Before I could gather my bearings, he buried himself again, sending me rocking back. He switched his grip so that he supported my head and back, and then set a brutal pace, skin slapping so hard that I knew it would bruise.

The entire time, he didn’t look away from me, keeping me pinned under the ferocity of his gaze. Those burgundy eyes were pools of black, and through them, I saw the male underneath. The male who feared losing the war to the Angels. Feared being vulnerable, feared being seen as weak.

Feared becoming attached to me. Feared that I would hurt him too.

And he bared those truths to me through those windows into his soul, through the thick rope that tied our fates together. Words were unnecessary when we were bound like this, every thought, every emotion, open and available to one another if we simply allowed it to be.

And in that moment, he did.

A hand wrapped around my throat, thumb secured under my chin and lifting it even higher. His attention flicked to my fluttering pulse, then back to my eyes. He stilled, so deep inside me I swore he was in my stomach.

A noise of protest slipped out of me. “Rokath,” I pleaded, though for what I wasn’t sure. I just needed him to do something, anything, to abate this ache for his touch.

His chest heaved, and a wildness slipped into his eye as he beheld me. Something was tumbling through his mind, and I waited, breath lodged in my throat. He moved again, slower, dragging his length to the tip before slipping back in. “You will come for me six times before I am finished with you tonight, Assyria. Six times for the six hours it took me to slaughter those fucking Angels.”

My core clenched at his words, a mix of excitement and apprehension swirling through me. “I don’t think I’ve come that many times in my life,” I panted, rocking my hips in an attempt to garner some friction.

“Do not challenge me further, little imposter,” he growled, yanking me down on his hardness. Stars exploded in my vision. Then, he fucked me again, at such a frenzied pace I was careening toward the edge with no chance of stopping it.

“Rokath, I–” With a cry, I came again, digging my fingers into his shoulders as he continued to drive into me. My breasts bounced with each movement, and I crested one wave after another. Before I’d even had time to recover from it, he switched his grip again, one arm wrapped around me to offer support while the other toyed with my clit.

“Come again, and show me how sweet victory is,” he growled, swirling more wetness there and pressing.

“Oh, Fates–”

He growled and slapped that sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Rokath,” I corrected myself, half-screaming as another orgasm tore through me.

“That’s it, Assyria. Drip all over my hand,” he rasped.

When I came down that time, he ceased touching me and stuck one finger in his mouth. His nostrils flared as he cleaned it, then he offered the other to me. “Taste victory, little imposter.”

He swiped the tip against the seam of my lips, and I opened, sucking and tasting my arousal. I moaned, and his cock thickened inside me. “Three more,” he ordered, pulling his hand away.

“I don’t think I can,” I panted. Sweat slicked every inch of my skin, and my body felt wrung out in a way it never had before.

Rokath tugged me off the rock and settled me on the ground. I nearly whimpered when he slipped out of me, but a moment later, he spun me and locked his arm across my stomach. Dropping his head to my ear, he said, “Brace yourself against the rock. It’s going to be a rough ride.”

My breath hitched, and my skin pebbled as he guided me forward. Locking my arms, I readied myself for him again. The head of his dick nudged at my entrance, and then he was inside, filling me in the most exquisite way. “Oh,” I breathed as he moved, taking me at a deeper angle. He flattened a palm on my lower back, forcing me to arch more.

“There you go,” he growled, then swiped his fingers through my wetness and circled my clit. I wanted nothing more than to melt into the ground and let him continue to touch me, but as he slid through my slickness, he didn’t stop at his dick.

No, he continued up and parted my cheeks. “What are you–”

“Relax and it will feel good. If you come for me with my fingers in your ass, I might let you off the hook for the other two orgasms you owe me.”

He swept the wetness over my puckered hole, and I nearly groaned at the foreign sensation. “What happened to me having to earn them from you?”

“I’m feeling generous after my victory today,” he replied, then circled his hips again. He wasn’t lying when he told me it would be a rough ride, and I had to shift my sweaty palms to brace myself better.

The feeling of his cock pressing against all my walls while his finger brushed over my ass was unlike anything I’d experienced before.

“You’re doing so well, Assyria. Move that pretty cunt along my length while I work a finger inside you,” Rokath commanded. Everything with Rokath felt like a first. Instead of being a passive participant in coupling, he made me feel alive. Empowered me to snatch at what I wanted from the experience.

Slowly, I worked my hips back and forth, pleasure building quickly now that I was in control of the motion. I paused when the tip of his cock hit just the right spot, raking it over and over and over again. Wetness trickled down my thighs, but whether it was sweat or arousal, I didn’t know. Didn’t care. All I could focus on was the sensation of Rokath inside me and brushing over my ass.

“That’s it, keep going,” Rokath encouraged, and then his finger slipped in.

A sharp inhale preceded a string of curses and Rokath’s name. I stilled as I adjusted to the new sensation.

He dragged himself over that spot again, eliciting a whimper from me. “Mmm, yes, I can feel you throbbing, Assyria. How does it feel being claimed in two holes?”

“So fucking good,” I managed to get out, body tensing as he adjusted his finger ever so slightly.

“That’s my girl. Take your pleasure from me,” he instructed, and I did, working over his length while he continued to press into my ass.

Curses and moans fled me in rapid succession as tension coiled tighter and tighter in my pussy. Rokath never stopped his ministrations, and soon I was careening toward another orgasm. “I think I’m going to come again,” I panted, eyes fluttering as I grappled for control of myself.

“Come all over my cock, Assyria. Scream my name. Let them know who shatters you to pieces,” he growled.

Those words were my unraveling. His name ripped from my throat as I pitched forward, arms trembling and unable to support my weight any longer. He fucked me through it, quickening his pace and thickening inside me. My walls gripped him, holding him inside me until I was certain we had fused into one being.

There was nothing and no one in my world except for him.

“Rokath,” I moaned, long and low, and then collapsed against the rock.

“Fuck, Assyria, I love hearing you say my name,” Rokath groaned, then pulled out of me with a grunt. I didn’t have the energy to move as he jerked himself and spilled his cum over the sandy earth.

Rokath spun me to face him, then pulled me into his arms. His heart beat erratically against my ear as I wrapped my arms around his sweaty torso. The way in which he held me then didn’t just speak to a male and female after a thorough coupling, but something more.

Something that wanted to reach between my ribs and heal one slash in my tattered heart. Rokath had been an asshole to me again, and admittedly, I to him, and yet, after this victory, after this chase, after this claiming, I sensed the winds shifting, blowing us back to the course we’d charted while my injured shoulder healed.

Despite my better judgment, I basked in what he offered me. I kept the barrier between us open, let our bond hum contentedly as our emotions, thoughts, souls, were shared like one thick stream of being.

Rokath too surrendered to the feel of us, and all those hurtful words he’d spoken about me being too much of a distraction, getting in the way of saving the Demons, melted away.

Trust bloomed in that moment of shared vulnerability, as if it had been waiting for the perfect conditions to show us what a beautiful blossom it could be.

We remained wrapped in each other for a long time, until the sound of revelry drifted into the slot and we decided we needed to return and celebrate the swift victory Rokath delivered.

We reentered the camp hand in hand.

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54

Bronze flashed in the sun as I swung my sword toward an Angel’s neck. The female was quick, though, and she leaned back, the tip of the blade whooshing by a hair’s breadth from her face. She wasted no time in pressing forward, flinging a blast of white in front of her to throw me off balance. I wanted to laugh at her brazenness, thinking she could take on the Halálhívó and win. I sidestepped her attack and yanked a dagger from my ribs, stabbing it into hers and moving onto my next opponent without bothering to watch her fall.

She’d become my puppet soon enough.

Garnet soaked the ground beneath my boots, while the air was heavy with the scent of death. The cries that rang out around me were nearly a lullaby, more soothing to me than silence ever was. With a grunt, I slashed a retreating male and sent him tumbling to the ground. He flipped over with a groan, scrambling backward with a cry on his lips. “No!”

I stabbed him through the heart as I stepped over him in search of my next target.

The horde of Demons overwhelmed this pathetic group of Angels just as easily as our last few encounters, and I was becoming bored of the ease with which we were beating them back. In the next few days, we’d be in Lutsk again, retaking ground we’d lost over months in a matter of weeks.

Finding a pile of boulders, I scaled it, then surveyed the scene below. White armor glinted like beacons in the sunlight, but compared to the leather-clad Demons rising and dropping from the sky, and the red armored ones pressing forward on the ground, they were far outnumbered.

Angels took to the skies as well, shooting arrows toward the flying Demons. They battled for control in a complicated, fast-paced dance that would make Rapp proud.

A horn blasted twice, and calls of retreat swept toward me. Once again, the Angels pulled back, not daring to continue their fight with us. How inept of them to think they could take on my might in the first place.

Sticking my thumb and forefinger into my mouth, I whistled sharply. “Halt the advance!”

Let the Angels piss themselves as they ran and tried to regroup with a larger force. All they were doing was delaying the inevitable. Their army would close ranks, while ours did as well, and once we were all rejoined, we’d slaughter them all. They didn’t stand a chance.

Grem and Zeec trotted toward me, both their harnesses and muzzles slick with ruby. “Good boys,” I told them, and they plopped at the base of the rocks, panting.

I remained in the elevated position long enough to watch the Angels disappear over the horizon, then hopped down and found my Parancsok. “Report,” I ordered them, pulling off my helmet. It was too fucking hot under there to keep it on, and with the Angel’s retreat there was no need for it any longer.

“Casualties are estimated at one hundred today, Halálhívó,” one said. Behind him, the bodies were already being piled and wood stacked around them for a pyre. We always offered our warriors a quick sendoff into their next life in gratitude for dying for the cause. The Angels, on the other hand, were left to rot and have their bones picked apart by vultures.

“And the injured?” I asked, tucking the horns under my arm.

“Only a few, sir, and they should all make a full recovery,” another told me.

“Very good,” I commented. “See to it that everyone is well-fed after a thorough prayer thanking the Fates for our victory.”

We’d spilled enough blood for them today that another sacrifice was unnecessary, but I didn’t want to press our luck without at least some level of veneration for them.

A young male jogged up, carrying a rolled parchment. “Pardon me, Halálhívó, but this is for you.” He knelt, resting his forehead on his forearm, and offered me the scroll.

I accepted it, unrolling it and reading. A message from Rapp, relaying his current location, and estimating his arrival in Lutsk. He was perhaps a day ahead of us, and judging by the morning’s message from Trol, the two would meet before my battalions caught up. The landscape closer to the Skala Mountains was more difficult to navigate, but offered plenty of opportunities which I had used to my advantage. There was a reason I chose this side over the others.

“Write back and relay our location,” I told the male, waving him on.

“Yes, sir,” he said, offering me a salute before hurrying away.

Then I returned my attention to the metal-clad Parancsok. “We will need to march again tomorrow.”

Around the jagged hills in the distance, a salt flat stretched over a great distance, which would force the Angels to narrow their ranks and make fighting more difficult. I hoped they’d retreat through the night to the other side of it and dig in there instead. It would be a much better place to fight for them, with a few high vantage points for long range attacks. We’d have to send scouts ahead to see what their position was before engaging again.

“Aye, then it will be good to give the soldiers extra time to rest,” one said.

The sun was barely past its zenith, which meant nearly a half-day recovery time. For as hard as they had been fighting the past few weeks, it was earned. “Anything else?”

“No, Halálhívó,” they replied in unison.

“You know where to find me if you need something,” I said, then strode off in the direction of the camp half a mile back. We were winning so handily that I’d shortened the normal distance. With the healers in closer proximity as well, the injured were more easily treatable.

And Assyria was closer too.

With as much free time as we would have tonight, there was plenty of time to resume her fighting lessons. I found her pacing at the edge of the camp, sticking to the shadows with a spyglass in her hand. Despite my better judgment, I had allowed her a modicum of freedom and a chance to help us since she couldn’t step onto the battlefield. And with the way she had excelled at spotting things in the distance while we were riding, I figured she could do the same from within the camp and alert me if she spotted a company approaching from a different direction.

“Halálhívó,” she exhaled when she saw me approaching. She wouldn’t admit it, but she worried about me every time I stepped onto the battlefield. There was so much unsaid between us, so much we intuitively knew about one another but didn’t dare give voice to.

That would make it real.

Grem and Zeec bounded forward, greeting her with a bark and a lick. Her nose crinkled as they painted her palm red. “We’re staying in place tonight. I need to wash off and then we can practice some fighting maneuvers,” I told her as she found a clean spot on Zeec’s harness to wipe her hand.

She snapped the spyglass shut against her hip so as not to dirty it, then tucked it into a small bag at her hip. “Okay,” she beamed up at me. The easy way the expression bloomed on her face made me want to lean down and kiss her.

I jerked my head at her to follow me, and she quickly fell in step, though her legs had to move at nearly twice the speed of mine to keep up. “You won quickly today,” she commented, tucking a wayward strand of hair behind her pointed ear.

“We did, and if they move as I expect they will, we’ll reunite with Rapp in a few days,” I told her. Relief danced in those devious burgundy eyes.

“So you’ve heard from him then?” she asked.

“He sent a raven earlier, as did Trol. We’re very close to Lutsk now.”

Grief swept down our bond before Assyria clamped down on her feelings. She returned her attention ahead of us, but the way she pressed and rolled her lips told me that her earlier happiness had vanished.

We’d come so close to moving past all the hatred between us, and I cursed myself for reminding her of that male who sacrificed himself for her. From the times she lost herself in the past and let the barrier around her mind slip, I’d learned that he was from Lutsk, that he’d promised to marry her right before he burned, and that he was the first male with whom she’d ever felt truly safe. Basically, I’d taken her first bite of happiness and thrown it on the pyre.

She’d thanked me for protecting her, and I knew that she felt that way around me now. In spite of the rocky start to our relationship, things had changed. As disconcerting as it was, I wanted to be the one to bring smiles to her face. To pull laughs from her chest. To comfort her when she was sad. Despite my better judgment, she’d become important to me.

It was time I told her that. Maybe then, she’d finally surrender that last bit of anger she held toward me over her family and Izgath. And Olrus now too.

“Come, let’s go train. We can have a lengthy session today to make up for all the nights we’ve missed,” I murmured, changing course. She followed without saying anything, a glassy, faraway look in her eyes.

The camp was a hive of activity, males swarming about as they cleaned their weapons and themselves, tended to their injuries, or sought food to fill their bellies. Assyria and I wove through it until we reached the outskirts, where there was just enough room to train without straying too far should anyone need me.

I hoped no one did. I wanted, needed, to show Assyria how much she meant to me, and if someone interrupted us, she’d see she was second to the war and my words would fall flat. I dropped my helmet off to one side, then removed all of my upper body armor. I debated about taking my shirt off too, with the way the sweat made it cling to me.

I did, immediately grateful as a cool breeze caressed my overheated skin. Besides, Assyria needed to feel what it was like to strike flesh, and I didn’t want her injuring her hand on the hard metal.

Blinking, she returned to herself, tracking my movements as I strapped metal cuffs over my wrists once again. Heat licked at her eyes as she swept them over my bare torso.

Planting one foot slightly behind me, I raised my fists. She mirrored me, so tiny compared to my bulk. “Attack me,” I told her. My little imposter wasted no time leaping forward with a well aimed strike to my ribs. I dodged it easily, then unhurriedly tossed out a punch to her face, giving her plenty of time to see it coming.

She ducked under it and circled away from me. A line formed between her brows as she thought through her next attack. I waited for it, moving slowly enough that I let it collide with my stomach. With a flex of my abs, I absorbed the blow. The strike was nothing compared to the hits I’d taken earlier that day, but since we’d last sparred, Assyria’s power had improved.

“Good girl,” I praised, nearly smiling down at her.

A rosy flush rose to her cheeks and lust pulsed down our bond. She liked being praised, and fuck if I didn’t love giving it to her.

“I’ve been imagining hitting you in my spare time,” she quipped, tossing her braid over her shoulder.

“I expect nothing less,” I told her, this time allowing the corners of my lips to twitch up. The sparkle of amusement that appeared in her eyes nearly stole my breath. They were as rich as the roses she loved so much, and her lips were as soft as the petals. And her body? Between the muscles stretched taught over her frame and those damn curves like a juicy fruit, it was ripe for me to sink my teeth into.

She struck me again, and this time, it caught me off guard. I stumbled to the side, and she pressed her advantage, hitting me again and again. I covered up as she continued to work, waiting for her to make a mistake. After stepping a little too far forward, I snatched her, pulling her back to my front and caging her against my body.

Then, I leaned down and growled in her ear, “Keep your feet no further than shoulder distance apart, otherwise you are easy to knock off balance.”

Her heart thundered against my bicep, and my erection grew at her back. The barest wiggle of her ass had me groaning, my arms tightening with the slightest twitch around her. Unable to help myself any longer, I spun her to face me, capturing her waist with one hand and using the other to tip her chin up so those devious burgundy eyes could consume me.

“You are beautiful, Assyria. The Weaver must have spent centuries creating you for how perfect you are for me.”

Her lower lip trembled. “Halálhívó, you don’t–”

I shook my head. “Please, let me finish.”

Her throat bobbed against my hand, and I circled it around to cup the back of her neck. Curving down, I pressed my lips to hers with a tenderness that I hoped spoke to how serious this moment was. Her lashes fluttered against her cheeks as I pulled away.

“Little imposter, you are so fierce. So brilliant. Even with that sharp tongue of yours, I can’t get enough of your words, your fire, you. I shouldn’t want you as much as I do, but I can’t help myself. You have me in a chokehold.”

Assyria’s eyes popped open along with her mouth. “Rokath, stop.”

The force with which she said my name, my real name, had me furrowing my brows. She hadn’t uttered it anywhere it could be overheard since I spanked her. This time felt entirely intentional. “Why? I’m trying to give you what you need, Assyria. I just want to tell you that after all this time I’ve fallen–”

She twisted out of my hold and backed away, raising her hands like she would hold me off should I approach again. Shock froze me in place as my mate continued to put space between us. “You can’t. Don’t say it, please.”

My heart twisted as heat crept across my chest and up my neck, taking residence in my jaw. “Why not, little imposter?” I growled. I stomped forward, easily closing the distance and towering over her.

Those burgundy eyes filled with tears, and not the kind I liked. A profound sorrow mixed with a hint of panic flooded our bond from her side, while I tried my best to smash the hurt swirling in my chest to a million shards.

I’m professing my love, and she’s rejecting me. Has she been playing along all this time, trying to earn my favor so she can run away again? Is this all a game to her?

I cursed myself for letting myself feel. For letting myself fall. This was why I never showed anyone I cared. It was dangerous to let myself love.

“Because,” she whimpered, shrinking back.

“Because why?” I snarled, snatching her waist with both hands. My fingers dug in hard enough to bruise. I didn’t care, though. She wasn’t walking away without an explanation.

“Please, Rokath, just don’t,” she repeated, shoving her palms against my arms.

There was my name again.

“Tell me,” I commanded, the voice of the Halálhívó breaking free.

Two tears spilled over and tracked down her cheeks. Fuck, I wanted to wipe them away, to crush her against me and comfort her. A riotous mix of anger, frustration, and sadness clamped down on my heart.

“Everyone who loves me dies. Everyone I love dies. My parents, my sister, Izgath, Olrus,” she whispered, voice shaking as she wrapped her arms around herself like she was trying to hold herself together.

“I’m not going to–”

“You don’t know that!” she shrieked, pounding her fists into my chest. “We’re at war. You are out on the battlefield every single day, surrounded by thousands of Angels who want to kill you. Whose only goal is to kill you, and then kill the rest of us. I can’t have that on my conscience.” A sob wracked her chest, and she swiped at her cheeks before curling in on herself again.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw some of the soldiers pause and peer down the alleys of the tents toward us. Assyria panted sharp, tight breaths as she tried to regain control.

We’re attracting too much attention.

This profession wasn’t going the way I wanted it to. I’d spent hours agonizing over what to say, and she wasn’t reacting the way I thought she would at all. I released her waist and tried to bring her into my embrace. But she landed a solid punch in my liver, sending me stumbling sideways. That was enough space for her to sprint away, nearly knocking over several soldiers on her way.

An array of emotion speared through me as I watched her go.

Fury.

Grief.

Hatred.

Hurt.

I’d tried to move us forward in our relationship, and Assyria rejected it. Rejected me. Over her own fears that she was cursed by the Reaper, and that I would die if we loved each other. I’d opened my heart to her, only for her to rip it to pieces. This was why it was better not to feel anything at all.

Why had I allowed her to thaw the ice around my heart?

I clutched my side, fingers digging into the skin there as my temper flared, white-hot and protective of my emotions. For the first time since Thast, my eyes watered. I stomped through the camp toward the command center, keeping my head down like a charging bull. No one could see the agony burning me alive.

She didn’t want me to love her? Fine. I’d go back to hating her for what she was to me—a weakness.

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