Текст книги "Bound to the shadow prince"

Автор книги: Ruby Dixon

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Текущая страница: 20 (всего у книги 40 страниц)

Chapter

Forty-Eight

Istare at him, eyes wide. I just…run? Flee from him? I’ve never done such a thing before. It seems a little silly, but as Nemeth straightens to his full height, his wings flaring out, I can see he’s deadly serious. This is part of their ceremony, and I’ve agreed to be Fellian.

So it seems I must be chased.

I glance around the large, empty downstairs chamber. Other than the pillow in front of the altar and the wood wedged around the door, it’s barren.

“Start running,” Nemeth tells me in a whisper-soft voice. He pulls off his belt, his movements slow and deliberate. “Make it a good chase and the reward will be all the sweeter.”

I hesitate. There’s something both menacing and arousing about his stance, about the way he casually removes his vest next, his gaze locked on me. I look around again, but there’s nothing to hide behind, nowhere to go. I’m trapped in this tower, and whatever fleeing I do will be quick. Even so, I grab two handfuls of my skirts and cross the room, my heart starting to pound hard in my chest. There’s an exciting element of terror to this whole “chase” concept.

It should not be nearly as arousing as it is, yet I’m somehow excited.

I rush across the room from him, strategically placing myself nearer to the stairs. I turn to look at him, and Nemeth is stripping off the last of his clothing, revealing his enormous body and straining erection. My body throbs at the sight, the breath catching in my throat. Part of me just wants to fling myself to the ground, to give up on the idea of a chase and just let myself be caught.

But the chase is important to him. Important…and it’s exciting in a naughty, thrilling sort of way.

I watch as he tosses aside the wrap he wears over his loins and steps forward toward me, his movements deliberate and with a hint of menace to them.

With a squeak, I turn and race up the stairs.

Forty steps always seems like a long time, but today it feels like forever as I fling myself up them as quickly as possible. By the time I get to the top of the landing, I’m gasping, unable to draw a deep breath in my tight corset. I stare down the narrow, winding flight of stairs, and then I hear footsteps.

He’s following me up, and he’s not far.

With another whimper born of both excitement and dread, I turn and continue racing away. Across the narrow, half-circle hall of the first floor, and past Nemeth’s room that we share. Past the garderobe and the storage, and on to the second floor. I can hear Nemeth’s footsteps behind me, the heavy Fellian trod of his strange feet on the stones. I imagine I hear the swish of his wings as he closes in on me, and it makes me race faster, my heart hammering in my chest.

As I reach the bottom of the second flight of stairs, something tugs at the skirts of my dress. I scream and pull free, racing away once more.

I make it halfway up the stairs before I feel the tug on my skirt again. I shriek, tottering on the step, in danger of losing my balance.

Suddenly Nemeth is there, large arms wrapped around me and shielding me against his chest. “Are you all right? Candra?”

I sag against him for a moment, breathless. I manage a nod. “Almost fell.”

“Be careful, milettahn,” he murmurs, nuzzling the side of my neck before releasing me and placing me on my feet again. “If you are too scared to continue⁠—”

“I’m not,” I tell him, straightening my shoulders. Part of me wants him to catch me and nuzzle me again, but a greater part of me wants him to keep chasing. “If I get scared, I’ll say the word ‘ribbon’ and you’ll know it’s too much.”

“Ribbon,” he agrees, and his green eyes glow with lust. He reaches a clawed hand for my skirts.

I swipe them out of his grip once more, then turn and race up the rest of the way, heart pounding as I hear him pacing after me. This might be one of the strangest sex games I’ve ever played…but also one of the most exciting.

This time, he snags me around my waist before I get up the stairs to the third flight, and I realize he’s been toying with me this whole time. He could have caught me at any point and let me run, like a cat playing with a mouse.

Squealing, I’m hauled backward, and a big arm traps my waist. A large body hunches over my squirming one, and I feel Nemeth’s breath hot in my ear. “I have you now, my mate.”

A hot shudder of arousal rips through me as he growls, rubbing his face against my neck. I bite my lip, holding back a moan as one hand slides under my skirts, pushing them up and revealing my legs.

Nemeth’s breath hisses as he glides his fingers up my thigh. “No bloomers?”

I shake my head.

“Naughty princess,” he murmurs, and then his hand pushes between my thighs, cupping my cunt.

I whimper, collapsing against him, my cheek pressing to the first cool step of the stairs as he holds me against him.

“Knees up,” he reminds me as I sag.

I do as he commands, settling my weight on my knees even as I keep my face low to the ground. Cool air brushes over my backside as my skirts climb their way up my back, and Nemeth’s hand presses against my pussy. His first two fingers glide through my folds, and I cry out, wet and slick and wildly excited for more.

“My naughty, naughty Candra,” Nemeth rasps, finding my clit and rolling it against his fingertips. “You are so very aroused by our chase, aren’t you? As aroused as I am.”

And he presses his length against my thigh, letting me feel just how hard and aching he is.

I make a choked sound, spreading my thighs wider so he can have full access to my body. I love this. I love how fierce he is in this moment. He’s not my shy scholar right now—he’s a primal being about to claim his mate.

And by all the gods, does his mate want to be claimed.

He rubs a teasing finger against my clit again. “Should I make you come on my fingers before I give you my knot?”

“Yes, please,” I whine, bucking my hips against his touch. “I want that. I want you, Nemeth.”

A hard finger dips lower, grazes the entrance to my body. I rock with his touch, trying to get him to go deeper, to pierce me with one of those big digits. I’m greedy and I want everything.

But he only slips his hand away, and I cry out at the loss. “No fair!”

“Shh.” His hand rubs my backside, and then his fingers trace between my thighs again. Something hot and hard prods at the entrance of my body and I moan, realizing that we’re skipping all the foreplay and are going straight to the consummation. He teases the tip against my core, leaving me clenching and needy and whimpering with distress. “My pretty milettahn,” he murmurs. “Do you want your mate?”

“Yes!”

Nemeth surges into me, and I let out a choked sound. Oh gods, that is so good. It’s been forever since I’ve been filled like this and I’d forgotten just how intense and delicious the sensation of a thick cock pushing into me can feel. He thrusts into me hard, rocking me against the cool stone of the steps, and I don’t think I’ve ever been so full. Nemeth is larger than any lover I’ve had in the past, and I squirm as he seats himself to the hilt, his heavy thighs bracketing mine. His breath hisses, and he remains still over me, frozen in place.

“R-ribbon?” he asks, voice tight.

“What?” I turn my head, trying to look back at him.

“Am I hurting you?”

“Gods, no! Keep going!” I try to arch against him, lifting up my backside in silent encouragement. “Give me everything,” I pant. “Give me your cock. Give me your knot.”

He growls low in his throat, and his hips surge against mine once more. It’s as if he can no longer control himself, and now that he knows I’m not hurt, he’s free to claim me as he wants. He pounds into me from behind, rocking our bodies together and driving into me with such force that each thrust leaves me breathless. My toes curl as he pumps into me, and the sensation is so good that a low curl of pleasure starts to warm deep in my belly, a sign that I just might have an orgasm from thrusting alone.

“More,” I cry out, eager to chase that sensation. “Harder, Nemeth. More!”

“Can you take my knot?”

Is he not giving me everything? “Yes.” I widen my legs, trying to give him more access to my body that’s already stretched tight around him. “Give me everything. Make me your mate.”

“You’re so tight,” he hisses between his teeth, and thrusts shallowly into me.

“Give me your knot,” I say again, demanding. It won’t feel like we’re truly mated until he does.

Nemeth growls low in his throat. He clenches my hips tight and then presses forward. Suddenly, it feels like too much, and the realization is startling. He’s got more to give me? But I’m not new to sex. I try to relax my body, keeping my hips loose as he thrusts into me, pushing a little harder each time.

It’s no longer feeling good, my climax pounded away as Nemeth slowly drives his knot into me.

“Unh!” Nemeth shudders over me, and thrusts deep, clutching my hips tight. He spills into me, and I try to hold still as he comes.

It’s impossible. His knot feels enormous and like it’s splitting me apart. I squirm in place, wriggling in an effort to get comfortable as I’m pinned under his heavier weight. I feel…stuck, oddly enough, which is a strange sensation. And when I try to slide away from him, I find that I can’t, and our bodies are locked together.

I whimper, distressed.

“Shh, love,” Nemeth murmurs. He rolls onto his side, pulling me with him until we’re curled on the floor together. “Give my knot time to recede.”

Squirming, I’m trapped between the pleasure-pain moment and the realization that I had no orgasm. “How—how long does that take?” I ask, panting.

He strokes a big hand down the front of my dress, then slides that hand under my skirts. “Longer than a few breaths, that’s for certain. Did I…hurt you?”

“Your knot feels like a lot,” I confess tightly, wriggling again. I can’t stop moving. “Still does.”

Nemeth groans. “By the gods, you feel good. You’re squeezing my knot so hard.” Even now, he bucks lightly against me, and I feel another burst of his release inside my body. His hand slides between my thighs. “Did you come?”

“No,” I practically wail, and I sound pouty and pathetic.

“Truly, I am a terrible mate. I will have to make it up to you,” he soothes.

I’m miffed that he doesn’t sound sorry. He sounds like a man that just got his knot in his woman and he’s sated.

He nuzzles the top of my head, his legs curled around mine, and I whimper pathetically again as his hand slides to my cunt. “While you milk my knot, I get to take care of you.” And his fingers tease my clit.

I cry out, shocked at how intense it feels. Oh, gods. I’ve never been stuffed so full, and the combination of his fingers strumming my clit while I’m speared on his cock is explosive. I immediately clench around him, my cunt squeezing tight, and Nemeth lets out a shocked little gasp of his own.

“That’s it, milettahn,” he groans. “Milk my knot with your sweet cunt. Gods, you feel good.”

I come hard, the orgasm rolling through me in waves, and then it doesn’t stop. Instead, Nemeth continues to tease my clit, rubbing circles around the hood as my body squeezes tight around his cock and I make breathless, gaspy sounds as he makes me come over and over again. One orgasm rolls into the next, and I arch and writhe against him as he works my body, sending one pulse of pleasure after another until I’m breathless and spent, and still he makes me come again. He strokes my throat and face with one big hand while the other strums between my legs like I am a lute he will never tire of playing.

By the time his cock eases from my body, I’m exhausted from having come so many times. I feel worn and dazed with pleasure, curled up against his back. I sigh as he slips free from between my thighs and a rush of fluid follows. He tugs me higher up against him and nuzzles my face. “Now are you pleased, my greedy princess?”

I snuggle back against him. Am I pleased? Gods, I don’t think I’ve ever been so pleased. Sex with my Fellian has been incredible. I expected it to be good because I love him, but I was not expecting to be utterly wrung out with decadent pleasure. “I think I like your knot.”

He chuckles, stroking a finger along my cheek. “I am glad you approve.”

I think if I approved any more, the gods would need to scrape me off the walls.

Chapter

Forty-Nine

We remain on the floor, me tucked against Nemeth’s chest. I think we’re both far too tired to get up for a while, so he runs his fingers over my skin, petting me, and at some point, I fall asleep.

I wake up to Nemeth picking me up off the floor and bridal-carrying me into our room. “I can walk,” I tell him, yawning. “You can put me down. I’m not that tired.”

“You are very tired,” he argues. “But more than that, you are my mate, and I am going to carry you to our bed on our mating day.”

I can’t fault that logic. Plus, Nemeth is nice to snuggle against, his chest warm and bare and best of all, mine. He sets me down in the bed and I reach for him, only to have him kiss my fingertips and move away. He gets a bowl of water and a towel, and as I recline sleepily in the bed, washes himself.

And, shameless woman that I am, I watch him. There’s something so satisfying about seeing his hand move over his cock. Of his hard features that ease slightly when he looks at me, as if I’m all the softness in his world. He rinses the towel off and then moves to my side, parting my thighs and wiping me down with gentle, tender care.

Once Nemeth is satisfied that I’m clean of his seed, he sets the bowl aside and unlaces the front of my corset, helping me undress. Instead of our normal sleeping attire, he pulls my chemise off of me and studies my body, now as naked as his. I want to preen at his hot gaze, because it’s clear he likes what he sees. “It’s early for bed,” I tease as he climbs into bed beside me. “Are you that tired?”

“It’s the day of my mating.” He slides into bed next to me and props up on his side, watching me with a hungry, avid gaze. “Should we not spend the day in bed?”

Again, I cannot fault his logic.

I immediately pull him against me, sliding an arm around his neck and pulling him down for a kiss. “This has been quite the wedding day.”

His arms move around me and he hauls me against him, pressing my breasts to his chest. He rolls me onto my back and brushes his nose against mine. Our lips meet in a brief kiss and then he scrapes his teeth against my mouth, the moving a mere graze but oh so sensual. “And are you content?”

“Mmm. ‘Content’ implies that I’m done with you. And I haven’t finished savoring.” I kiss him back, letting my tongue flick against his. I’m tired, but at the same time, a warm, hungry pleasure is coursing through my veins. I wouldn’t mind another, far more leisurely bout of bedsport with Nemeth. “You’re always talking of savoring, after all.”

“I am,” he agrees, chuckling. He kisses his way across my jaw and then moves down my chest, toward my breasts. “I would love the chance to savor these.”

“Now’s your chance,” I joke. “I hear their owner just got married.”

“What a lucky male to mate such a prize.” He cups one breast and buries his face in my cleavage. “Gods have mercy.”

I shiver with delight as he kneads my breasts, stroking my fingers over his horns. It feels strange for my lover to not have a bit of hair upon his body, but I like the way Nemeth looks. I love the strong line of his nose and the harsh angles of his cheeks and brow. I even love his strangely fluid-looking horns that feel so hard to the touch. I’m so focused on caressing them that I lose track of what Nemeth is doing to my breasts until he takes the tip of one into his mouth and sucks on it.

With a whimper, my attention is solely his once more. “Nemeth!”

He flicks his tongue over my nipple, teasing circles around it. “How is it that you taste so good, milettahn?”

I open my mouth to reply, but all that comes out is a needy groan as he sucks on the tip, hard. I arch against his devouring mouth, needing more of it, squirming in the bed under him as he ministers to my breasts.

“Gods, I’m glad we’re married,” I pant. “You’ve made me wait long enough.”

“I would have waited a thousand years for you,” he tells me, voice husky with emotion as he presses a kiss to the tip of one breast. “You are worth waiting for, Candra.”

Sweet words, and clearly from a man besotted with his new bride. I don’t truly believe him. It’s a pretty saying because he finally got to fill me with his seed. He would have said it to any woman trapped in this tower with him…

The thought is a sobering one, and I push it out of my head quickly. It doesn’t matter if I’m special or not. I’m here with Nemeth and Meryliese (or Erynne) is not. He’s mine and I’m not giving him up. “I love you,” I blurt out as he kisses his way down my belly. “I love you, Nemeth.”

He grins up at me and then pushes my thighs apart. “Shall I check to see if you can take my knot again, my sweet one?” And he runs his tongue over my sore, well-used cunt.

I gasp. It’s always so surprising to me how assertive Nemeth can be in bed for a virgin. His people must have incredible natural instincts when it comes to mating. He laps at my pussy with long, slow strokes and then spreads my folds, feasting upon my clit. I cry out, my legs folding with the intensity of sensation. “Oh gods.”

“I’m going to get your cunt good and slick so you can take my knot again, Candra. I’m going to fill you every day with my seed, until my scent is irrevocably stamped upon your skin.”

“That…that’s a lot of seed,” I breathe, whimpering as he tongues my clit with gentle circles.

“You can take it.”

Gods, why is that so damned sexy? I moan as he sucks my clit into his mouth and teases it with the tip of his tongue. He works me with his mouth until I’m crying out, and this time when he mounts me, I know what to expect. I know that his first thrust will be shallow and delicious, followed by the increasing size of his cock, until my body is straining to take him. I know that when I feel completely speared upon his size, he’s going to press further, demanding that I should take his knot deep inside me. And it’s going to be tight. And it’s going to feel like too much…until it isn’t.

This time, when he’s knotted deep inside me, he gazes down at my smaller form and smiles. It’s a triumphant sort of smile, as if he likes the sight of me stretched around him, my body taut around his invading cock. As he leans over me, he slides a hand between us and caresses my clit, his green eyes locked on mine with such a possessive stare that it steals the breath from my lungs.

I come instantly, and this time I come first.

When I wake up in the middle of the night, Nemeth’s side of the bed is empty.

At first I think nothing of it. A garderobe excursion, nothing more. But as I roll over and hug my pillow, I wait for him. Half-awake, I smile to myself and think drowsy, sultry thoughts. Maybe he’ll awaken me with his head between my thighs. Maybe I’ll wake up first and surprise him. Then again, what’s the point in waiting? I might just snag him when he returns and insist that he let me try his knot one more time.

I wonder if it would be pleasurable for him if I rode him. Only one way to find out.

I stretch in bed, deliciously sore between my thighs in ways I haven’t felt in ages. There’s nothing quite like the stretch of well-used muscles from bedsport, and I feel wondrous. The minutes slip past, though, and Nemeth doesn’t return. I frown to myself, curious. Surely he’s not touching himself in the storage room again? When I’m right here and hungry for more? It doesn’t seem like something he would do.

So, curious, I get to my feet and pad into the darkness, listening for sounds of Nemeth’s wings. I don’t take a lamp with me. There’s nothing in the darkness in the tower that can frighten me.

I’m only a few steps into the hall, my hand on the wall to guide me, when I hear Nemeth’s voice. It’s coming from downstairs, the first floor. Curious, I head in that direction, wondering who or what he could possibly be talking to at this moment. Have the other Fellians returned? Are we no longer safe?

I creep down the stairs as quietly as I can, listening as Nemeth continues to talk. I can’t make out his words, and I realize he’s speaking in Fellian. Well, he’s taught me a few words of his language in our flirty moments. Maybe I can pick a few of them out. I press my ear to the stones, listening as Nemeth’s words spill through the darkness.

Wait…was that the word for wife?

I peer around the corner, into the large chamber, and see Nemeth stands in front of the altar, a single candle flickering in front of him. He does not have his hands clasped in prayer but atop the altar itself, and his expression is troubled.

The moment I look around the corner, he sees me and goes silent, a look of guilt flashing across his face. “Candra. Milettahn. I woke you up?”

I cross over to his side, fighting back a yawn. “I woke up and you weren’t in bed. Who are you talking to?”

He looks flustered by my question. “I…the gods.”

I arch an eyebrow at his answer. “The gods? Truly? You have never been particularly religious before.”

“Yes. It seemed like a day to pray.” Nemeth strokes my cheek with his knuckle. “I am sorry if I worried you. Prayers for my people are…private things, and I wished a moment alone.”

“I understand.” I slide my arms around his waist and smile when he holds me close. I get wanting to be alone with your thoughts. “Can I ask what you were praying about? Feel free to tell me no. You did say it was private, but I am simply curious.” I gaze up at him, his face cloaked in shadows. “I heard the word ‘wife.’”

He pauses. Strokes my cheek again. His reluctance is clear. “You will not get hurt feelings?”

“Well, now you have to tell me,” I say, poking a finger into his stomach. “You can’t just approach it like that and not expect me to worry.” A new thought occurs to me and I hesitate. “Do you have…regrets? Do you feel like you made a mistake?”

“What? Never.” He bends over and cups my face, pressing a kiss on my forehead. There’s something so very empowering about such a large, dangerous-looking male hunching over to shower gentle kisses to my face, and it soothes my worry a bit. “I am concerned that I am selfish, actually. That is why I pray.”

“Selfish?” I’ve had selfish lovers in the past and Nemeth is most definitely not one. “In what way?”

His expression is tormented. “In that I pressured you to mate me. I know you were hesitant. I worry I have been selfish in my need for you, and pushed you more than I should have. I worry that I convinced you with caresses instead of letting you decide for yourself. That I rushed you.”

I make an exasperated face. “You didn’t rush me, Nemeth. It was my decision. It has been all along. I knew what I was getting into when I married you, and I decided I wanted to do so anyhow.”

He caresses my face, his expression sad. “And will you abandon me when the tower doors open, like Ravendor did her mate?”

“Of course not. My love is stronger than that.” I put my hand over his. “I knew what I was doing when I decided to mate you. I knew I was giving up on my people for yours. They won’t accept me now because of what I’ve done. I’ve thrown my lot in with you. I suppose in a way I am Fellian, now.”

Nemeth looks sad. “Not Fellian,” he says softly. “Just mine.”

“That’s all I need.” I smile up at him. “Come to bed now?”

He blows out the candle.