Текст книги "Horns of Wicked Ebony"

Автор книги: Lacey Lehotzky

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Текущая страница: 25 (всего у книги 43 страниц)

She sucked in a sharp breath as I worked to the second knuckle. “This pussy is mine. This ass is mine. That mouth is mine. Am I understood?”

She nodded, and another gush of wetness filled my mouth. She hated that she loved my command, my possession, and that made it taste all the sweeter. This headstrong female falling apart because of me was better than any scale.

I stretched her hole further, adding a second finger.

“Fates–” she swore.

I growled a warning.

“Rokath,” she corrected herself, and her walls clenched around me. I glanced up from my work, finding her brows pinched and sweat beading between her breasts. I flattened my tongue and licked harder, faster, while working my fingers deeper into her ass.

“Oh, fuck,” she swore, mouth popping open and remaining in an O. Then, her lashes fluttered.

“Eyes on me while I make you come. I want to see the full effect of me stretching you out,” I commanded into her mind. They snapped open at the same time her walls clenched, sucking me deeper inside.

I groaned against her pussy as she came for the second time.

“That’s my good mate,” I ground out, releasing her at last. I wiped the juices from my beard with the back of my clean hand, then captured her in a bruising kiss. My cock dripped onto her belly, and I was wound so fucking tight I knew when I sank into her cunt again I’d be done in only a few strokes.

I left her lips pink and swollen when I pulled away. “I’m going to fuck you from behind now, with my cock in your ass. You’re going to come for me while I claim you once again.”

Fire ignited in those devious burgundy eyes. “Claim me, Rokath. As hard as the first time.”

My dick leaped, and a feral growl ripped from my throat. I flipped her, and she looked over her shoulder at me, digging her teeth into her bottom lip. The slightest wriggle of her ass and arch of her spine had her opening even more for me. I swiped more wetness over the tight ring, then pushed my fingers in again, widening her further.

With my free hand, I rubbed her clit, keeping her dripping for me. A heady moan fled her lips as I worked a third finger in. “Take me,” she begged.

“Can’t wait, little imposter?”

“No.” The word came out like a broken plea.

I couldn’t deny my mate what she wanted. Without having to reposition her, I slid my hardness into her pussy, coating it in preparation for her ass. It came out absolutely soaked. A low, rumbling laugh sounded in my chest. “I love your openness, Assyria. How you want me to show you new pleasures.”

I removed my fingers, positioning the head at her entrance. With deliberate slowness, I pressed. “Relax,” I encouraged her. A whimper escaped her, and I continued to rub circles over her clit. Her hole opened wider for me, until I worked the tip completely in.

“Good girl,” I praised, and her walls clenched, making stars dot my vision. “How does it feel?”

“Incredible,” she breathed, her body already coiled tight. For which I was grateful, because my balls were throbbing with anticipation of my release.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” I instructed. Then, I thrust deeper, bringing my length in and out as slowly as I could manage with how badly I wanted to fuck her into oblivion. But I didn’t want to hurt her, especially since I had plans for her training later.

“It’s not. Keep going,” she panted, pushing back into me.

With a groan, I did, flaring my nostrils and focusing on my breath to prevent myself from coming.

“Yes,” she hissed, her eyes flaring again. Her breath came in ragged sips as she watched me fuck her, gaze raking over my sweat-slicked torso.

“If only you could see what I see,” I told her.

“Show me,” she gasped, and I did.

Images of her ass widening, gaping for me as she took my thick cock flashed down our bond. She clenched around me at the sight with a mewled, “Oh.”

“You take me so well.” I dipped my hand rubbing her clit into her pussy, slicking it further. Her walls pulsed around my fingers as I withdrew them.

“No,” she pleaded. “Keep them there.”

“Then you need to come for me.” My voice was hard, commanding.

“I will,” she promised. So I dipped my fingers into her cunt again, grinding the heel of my palm against her clit.

She opened for me, and I buried myself deeper, inch by devastating inch. “Fuck,” I swore, nearly to the hilt. Poised over her, braced on one hand, control slipped out of my grasp. I curled my fingers against her inner walls, stroking the spot she loved while I claimed her ass.

She held my gaze the entire time, the world melting away as our bond, our love consumed us like a wildfire. A ragged breath fled her, and every muscle in her core tightened. “Fuck!” she screamed as her orgasm tore through her, yet in our current position she could scarcely move.

“Good girl,” I praised her, holding out until the last second before letting my own release rip through me. Hot ropes of cum filled her ass with me completely inside.

Trembling, panting, I murmured words of affirmation in her ear. Small, sweet sounds slipped between her lips. As my cock softened, I eased myself out of her. She sank to the mattress, limbs trembling. I pressed a kiss to her sweat-soaked spine, then went to the bathing chamber to run us a bath. Minutes later, she joined me, sinking into the tub. The hour was still early, so we had time to luxuriate before the first gong rang.

Turning the taps, I ceased the flow of water, then joined her in it.

“That was…amazing,” she commented with a sigh, settling back against me. A low rumble vibrated in my chest as I wet a cloth and cleaned her. She sucked in a sharp breath as I brushed it over her center.

“Sensitive?” I asked her.

She nodded. “I can’t decide which position I like most with you.”

“You don’t have to pick a favorite. I will pleasure you in them all, whenever you ask.”

She craned her neck to look at me, and I pressed a kiss to her forehead. “No one will take me again. You’re training me to be as fierce as you. I trust you completely.”

My heart throbbed at her words. I set the cloth aside and wrapped my arms around her waist instead. “Then we better work on my idea today so that you can scare the Angels and taste how sweet a victory that is.”

“I think I’ll enjoy that,” she grinned, unveiling the devious side of her.

I huffed against her hair. “With how fierce you are, I have no doubt.”

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37

Once again, I stood across from Rokath in a tucked-away corner of the training area. The idea of impersonating the Halálhívó, intimidating them without softening a single emotion, thrilled me in the same visceral way that my mate did when he claimed me earlier. The thought of both made my sore center throb. I pressed my lips together to keep my face neutral.

When did I become so much like my mate?

Whether it was the bond that made me crave this power, this violence, or whether it was yet another part of me I’d suppressed as a way to survive the cruel society I’d grown up in, I didn’t care. I merely dragged it in like I inhaled the cool air, welcoming it inside me.

“Ready?” Rokath asked me, and I nodded.

Dipping my eyes closed, I dove into the well of shadows in my chest. Yanking on the tendrils, I brought them outside of me. They swirled into a frenzy as I pictured Rokath clearly in my mind. It wasn’t hard, given how many times I’d stared into his burgundy eyes and run my fingers through his beard. How many times I’d traced the tattoos over his torso and the edges of his jagged ear. How many times I’d unraveled beneath him, come undone around the hard length of him, carved open in a way only he knew how to do.

I stretched, grew, thickened, as I became an Imposter.

The complexity of his armor proved to be a challenge. Brows pinching, I rolled through it, piece by piece. The dark pants he wore, with the metal strapped over the thighs and his calves. The heavy boots that adorned his feet. The fitted piece that covered his stomach and chest. The flexible plates that made up the shoulder joint. And finally, the bracers on his forearms.

Satisfied I’d thoroughly equipped myself, I let the obsidian vortex fall away. Blinking into the present, I jolted when I was eye to eye with my mate. This new height and weight were ones I’d never experimented with before, since they would have made me stand out when I wanted to blend in.

When I spoke, my voice came out exactly like his. “How did I do?”

With an utterly serious expression, he rounded me, and I fought the urge to squirm. “From a distance, no one would know the difference,” he stated when he returned to my front. “How does it feel?”

“Heavy,” I grunted, sweat already breaking out across my brow.

“It’s unnerving looking at myself,” he commented, stepping back and crossing his arms.

At that moment, Rapp hobbled behind the stands and let out a low whistle. Kiira was tucked under his arm, offering him some support. But he was growing stronger and stronger by the day, especially aided by the enhanced liquid pium the healers had managed to create from the dried leaves Kiira and Xannirin had brought from Uzhhorod.

“I don’t know who is who and that might frighten me the most,” he commented as he and Kiira took a seat on a bale of hay.

I rolled my eyes, and so did Rokath.

“See!” Rapp looked at Kiira but gestured in our direction.

The High Priestess shook her head. “It’s easy. That’s Assyria.” She pointed to Rokath. A laugh burst out of me before I could stop it.

“No, that’s Assyria,” Rapp declared, knocking his shoulder into hers.

“He’s right,” I replied, grinning.

Kiira merely shrugged like she wasn’t concerned with winning their contest. “The easiest way to figure out who was who was to make a guess and check for reactions.”

She wasn’t wrong.

“Can we return to training?” Rokath grumbled, drawing his sword. The garnets embedded in the skull on the pommel glinted in the sunlight.

Rapp raised his hands in mock surrender.

“I should learn to move like you do,” I told my mate.

“Aye,” he agreed. “While you already do, simply because I’ve overseen so much of your training, learning to swing a broadsword in my form will be different.” He grabbed a second one from beside Rapp and then handed it to me. “Follow my motions.”

Hefting it, I mirrored Rokath’s stance. The weight tugged on my shoulders, and even though I bore my mate’s bulk, it was more difficult than I had anticipated. Side by side, we stood, swords drawn and poised in the air, as Rapp and Kiira studied us with quiet interest. Rokath stepped forward and swung in a basic maneuver. I did the same, pausing in the same position he did. He backstepped and twisted, the tip of his blade arcing in a straight line, like it would across an opponent’s stomach. I teetered for a moment during the rotation but managed to regain my balance.

He moved forward again, combining several strikes this time. Dragging in a breath, I launched into the same series, completely empty of air by the end.

“Good. Again,” he commanded. We faced Kiira and Rapp, repeating the flow faster this time.

On the third pass, a handful of males and females peeked over the top of the stands, watching their Szélhámos and Halálhívó work in tandem. I tried my best to ignore them and focus on what Rokath was doing. He added a few ducks and dips as if we were fighting real enemies, pushing me to the limits of what he knew I was capable of.

Faster and faster we danced as I found a rhythm, half a second off from my mate’s performance.

The blood rushing in my ears drowned out all other noise.

Finally, Rokath ceased movement. I finished my last strike, then let my blade hang at my side. My chest heaved from the exertion, and my heart thundered against my ribs.

Yet it wasn’t nearly as forceful as the sounds coming from above. I dragged my gaze up. The top of the stands was crowded with onlookers. The entry side to the small space behind them was completely blocked too. Awe etched the face of every male and female.

“How?” someone questioned, his eyes wide as he took in the sight of the Halálhívó in duplicate.

This was a turning point—where I proved I was allowed to stand beside Rokath. That I was meant to.

Kiira winked at me as I flicked my attention to her and Rapp, then my mate. He sheathed his sword across his back. With a long exhale, my magic fell away, revealing my true form.

“She truly is his equal,” a former priestess said from somewhere in the mix. The males around her nodded.

Whispers of my honorific reached my ears, each instance threaded with reverence.

“You all have training you should be doing,” Rokath growled up at them, his tone leaving no room for argument.

With sheepish yet excited expressions, they slunk away from the grandstand and returned to their stations.

“You didn’t have to dismiss them,” I sighed, running my hands across my face. Wisps of hair had escaped my braid, and they slicked back with my sweat. My nose crinkled as I looked at my hands, then dried them on my pants.

“We don’t have time for dalliances,” Rokath grumbled.

Rapp snorted like he wholeheartedly disagreed, and I bit my lip to smother my grin. “This is all foreplay for you two. I’d call that a dalliance.”

Rokath shot him a dagger-like glare, and he merely shrugged.

“It was quite impressive,” Kiira commented, smoothing out her skirt. “Let them see you, at least for a little while, if you do this again. It will help their belief. I’ll write to the capital about it as well, helping to sway the nobles and populace, as I promised Xannirin.”

Rapp leaned back, bracing his hands on the hay behind him. “Still can’t imitate magic though, right?”

I shook my head. “I wish because I know that would be helpful.”

Rokath came to my side and pressed a kiss to the top of my head. Fingers under my chin tilted my face up to him. “You are so helpful. You’re doing enough.”

“But I want to do more. My power has so much potential,” I protested with a huff. “I can become anyone. Surely there’s another way I can help with that?” Olrus’s words slammed into me, almost from another lifetime, like divine intervention.

“They’ll exploit your magic and turn you into an assassin. Who knows where they would send you and who they would want you to kill.”

Had Olrus been correct in his assessment? That I’d be weaponized for someone else’s gain? Perhaps. But I wanted this. I was choosing this path. And if it could save the Demon race, help my mate win this war, I’d gladly do it over and over and over again.

“What if…” I trailed off, mulling over how to phrase my request in a way Rokath wouldn’t immediately reject. “What if I used my magic to impersonate more Angels too? We capture the high ranking ones, I can sneak into their camp and gather intel or something.”

Rokath’s expression hardened, and a swell of fear and fury swept down our bond. “I can’t risk you like that.”

“Wait, she has a point though,” Rapp interrupted, rising from the hay. We turned our attention to the Hadvezér, who stood with more ease than he had in weeks. “What have we always done best? Spinning stories. Assyria can enter their camp and spread rumors and then retreat. She doesn’t even have to be someone high ranking to do it.”

“Her Angelic isn’t good enough,” Rokath shot back, his fingers tightening.

“We can practice more,” I said, excitement thrumming in my veins. “I picked it up quickly before.”

A muscle ticked in Rokath’s jaw. “Counterpoint. What have the Angels always been best at?”

“Ambushing us,” Rapp grumbled, his brows furrowing.

“It’s time we turn the tables on them.” Rokath paced a slow circle between us, staring at the pennant flags whipping atop nearby towers. “Assyria can act as a lure to peel off sections of their army. She’ll infiltrate, spread rumors, stories, drop hints on our location. That will bring them straight into our traps.”

Rapp’s eyes brightened, and a sinister smile crossed his face. “I like it.”

“We’ll gather everyone with the power to render themselves invisible with shadow to accompany her.” Rokath halted and faced his Hadvezér. “She’ll be protected on the ground, and you can send your best fliers for overwatch.”

“She’ll have them,” he swore.

My hands trembled with both nerves and excitement. Finally, Rokath was both agreeing to let me help and use my rare magic in a way the Angels could never anticipate—without vehement protest. Without shoving me behind him and calling it protection. So much was going right, and I couldn’t help but grin. “Then you’ll have a fresh group to call on. You can march them back to the rest of the Angel army and take them by surprise.”

A wicked smirk pulled up the corner of Rokath’s mouth. “With you at the head, claiming you defeated us.”

My mouth dropped open at the suggestion. “That’s brilliant.”

Rokath rolled his eyes. “Why do you think I lead the Demon army, little imposter?”

“It’s certainly not your personality,” I quipped, flicking my braid over my shoulder.

That pulled laughter from Kiira and Rapp.

Scraping filled the space around us as Rokath drew his sword again. “If this is the new plan, then we need to change up your training slightly. Once we gather your guard, you’ll have to learn to work together as a unit. Almost like the strike team we put together to rescue Banand and Zurronar.”

“With the way everything is going, you’ll have males and females scrambling to fill slots. Especially after that,” Kiira said, pointing up to the stands behind her.

“Good. Then we can select the best of the best,” Rokath growled. “For now, let’s ensure you can still pull together an Angel form. Pick one of the females and fight me.”

Nodding, I wove Araquiel’s body over mine, complete with white armor. From a separate pile, I selected a sword more appropriate to my current size. Rapp and Kiira settled in to watch again.

Rolling my shoulders and sinking into a fighting stance, I squared up with Rokath. Then, I raised the tip of my blade. Energy hummed through me, renewed by my excitement over the new developments in our plans. “Let’s go.”

Rokath swung, and I dodged, sliding forward and aiming a slice at his hip, where his armor exposed the barest bit of his undershirt. He sidestepped, the sharp tip barely missing the fabric. Air whooshed in my ears as I pivoted on the ball of my foot and held up my sword, just in time for his to smack against it. The impact reverberated up my arm, nearly making me drop the weapon. I bared my teeth, muscles trembling, and shoved back.

Rokath seemed utterly unphased. He used the barest amount of force to fight me which was so fucking unfair.

With a cry, I shoved off our connection and circled away from him, searching for an opening. He stalked forward again, bronze flashing. I ducked, aiming a kick at his inner thigh, where only straps secured the metal covering the front and back.

The connection landed clean, and he swung his leg back and away from me, leaving his non-dominant leg forward.

“Smart move,” he commented, flipping the hilt in his hand.

“I had a good teacher,” I purred, batting my lashes. A moment later, I thrust my sword forward, catching him off guard. He barely managed to parry it away.

An approving growl rumbled in his chest. “Use those tricks, little imposter. They might save your life.” He executed a complex series of strikes, sending me stumbling back. “They might not.”

I dug my heel in and attempted to hold him off. Our blades met, and I leaned my weight into it. “I thought you wouldn’t let that happen.”

“Why do you think I’m training you so hard? I have to whip the foolishness out of you now so our enemies don’t on the battlefield,” he snapped back. Lust ignited between us as we remained locked in that stance. “No one will take you from me. No Angel. No Fate. Not even death. Because I am the Halálhívó.”

Desire coiled in my belly at the possession in his tone. I shoved off him, dropping my magic and flashing him a devious grin. He straightened to his full height, towering over me in a move that was meant to be intimidating but only sent heat rushing through my veins.

“Why is it that no matter how many times I have you, I can’t get enough? Why can I never satisfy my craving for you?” he asked, his tone all gravel and darkness.

“Because you constantly have to win me over, Halálhívó. What was it you said when you told me to run the first time? Your favorite game is catch?” I stepped forward until only a breath of space remained between us. Subtly, I called on my magic, smoky onyx ready to explode from me. “There’s nothing I love more than challenging you. Than making you chase me.”

More lust swept between us. But as Rokath reached for my head, I flattened my palms on his chest and shoved. Ebony exploded from my hands, sending him careening backward. He stumbled, falling to the ground, when I twisted my magic and wrapped it around his torso. The shadows halted him mere inches from the unforgiving stone. I prowled toward him, inky tendrils still swirling around us.

The fire in his eyes was entirely worth the victory I’d carved for myself.

“Eyes of devious burgundy,” he growled as power pooled around him, fighting against my own to right himself. I released mine, including Araquiel’s form, and allowed him to rise. “That’s what Kiira said about you before we even knew you existed.” He stepped closer, tugging on my braid and forcing me to look up at him. “That is who you have become, Assyria. And I am so fucking proud to call you my mate.”

The gong sounded, shattering our moment.

Rokath let out a frustrated grumble. “We’ll continue our training later. For now, it’s time for lunch.”

When we turned to head toward the dining hall, Rapp and Kiira were nowhere to be found. They must have left at some point during our second session.

“Thank you,” I said, halting him with two soft words. Yet they felt too small for everything he had given me.

“For what?” Rokath asked, his head tilting to the side.

“Not keeping me away from it all. For empowering me.” I paused, and Rokath did too, studying me with haunted intensity. “When I was a girl, I dreamed of having a mate, actually. But one who helped me shirk society’s rules for females. Who would love that rebellious part of me. Who would garden with me.” My tone was soft, vulnerable, and I looked at my hands, unable to meet his gaze.

A finger under my chin lifted my eyes to meet his. “Truly?”

“Truly,” I replied. “It’s not in the way I imagined it…but you give me all of that.”

He crushed me against him, holding me so tight that I had no choice but to bury myself against his hard armor. “I love you, Assyria. I will always protect you, always fight for you. But more than that, I will ensure you can do both for yourself.” Releasing me, he crouched so we were level. “You are mine. I might be a possessive brute as you have called me, but I will not cage you like Vagach did. Not anymore at least.”

“Will you still try to break me, to bend me to your will?” I asked, a smile blooming on my lips.

“Only when I am fucking you, little imposter. Because you love submitting to me. You love that you can trust me to make you feel good. To help you explore everything you were forbidden from doing,” he ground out, the heat in his tone going straight to my center.

Swallowing, he straightened, glancing around before adjusting himself. I dug my teeth into my lower lip at the sight of the hard outline in his pants. “Come, we’ll be late to lunch and I certainly don’t want all eyes on me.”

“Because you don’t want the soldiers to have anything certain for their fantasies?” I shot back.

“They don’t,” he grumbled.

I slipped myself under his arm as we walked, ever so slightly leaning into his side. “Oh, but they do,” I teased. The first time I’d overheard a group talking about my mate, an insane jealousy had risen in me, until I realized I was the only one who would get to be with him that way. Then, I got to brag shamelessly to my new friends. Not that I’d admit that to Rokath. His ego was too large already.

Rokath muttered a string of obscenities under his breath. I laughed all the way to the dining hall, where we managed to slip in without any eyes snapping to my mate’s groin.

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