Barbarian Dragonslayer (Princesses of the Ironbound Book 5)
Page 10
Ymir found it rather funny to watch Lillee and Jennybelle try to walk since Jennybelle kept trying to escape the elf girl so she could punch Daris again. At the same time, Lillee kept trying to kiss the swamp woman, grabbing her wide ass or her big tits.
It was a miracle that he managed to get the trio back to the Zoo. Lillee helped him get Gatha in her bed and Jennybelle in hers.
Lillee then was on him, kissing him, gripping his ass, and rubbing her ohi against his cock through their clothes. He was forced to pull her off him.
Lillee’s green eyes showed her disappointment. “Just fuck me before I kiss the Princept. Then you can fuck me again while I lick her cunt. I can’t believe I get to kiss Della Pennez. She is so beautiful, and older, so much older than me. She has experience. I’ll be her horny little girl.”
Ymir was silent for a moment, taken aback by how erotically depraved the women in his ptoor were. He was hard enough to make walking difficult, if not impossible.
Lillee noticed and fell to her knees but was too drunk to undo his belt.
While getting sucked would be wonderful, he had to get Lillee presentable for their meeting with the Princept.
He drew Lillee up and stared into her eyes. “When we meet Della, you can’t show how drunk you are. Be your gentle, quiet self. And I don’t imagine we’ll be having sex with the Princept, but you can bet we’ll do it afterwards. The kiss is for the Veil Tear Ring. Do you understand?”
Lillee giggled, then turned weepy. “I’ll be quiet. I’ll be gentle. I’m just Lillee Nehenna, after all. I’m just a little elf princess, quiet and shy, and lost, always so lost. Father said I was lost. Father said I didn’t have the talent to do anything remarkable. He said I was going to disappear into the shadows of history. But Father is dead. Dead forever. Just like you will be, my sweet Ymir. Just like all who I love will be. And so, the elf princess wept at the long minutes of her empty life.”
Ymir didn’t have time for her elven poetry or her self-pity.
“Come now, Lillee, we are living for the night. We will seize the minutes we have. I just need you a tad more sober.” Ymir ended up carrying her out of the Zoo. Waiting for her to walk would’ve taken too long.
As they moved through the fog, Ymir whispered into Lillee’s ear. “If Aegel fucking Akkridor could live for a thousand years, then so can I. He made the rings before me, and now it’s my turn. I won’t let death have me, Lillee Nehenna. And he won’t get you either. We’ll live and fuck forever if I have anything to say about the matter. And believe me, I do.”
Lillee broke down and wept into his chest. She was still sniffling when they walked into the kitchen. Tori was busy making snacks for their meeting with Della, and the dwab had brewed kaif.
Lillee went over and hugged Tori to her chest. “I love this woman! I love you, Toriah Welldeep. I love every one of your freckles. I love your big tits, and I love your inconvenient oheesy. And your big ohi. I love every bit of you.”
Tori laughed a little. “Drunk love is like love, only most of the time, drunk love leaves in the morning. Love you too, Lil.” She got Lillee to sit at a small table in the kitchen.
The little woman served her up some kaif, hot and black.
Lillee poured kaif from one cup to another, as was her way, to cool the hot liquid. She then drank it carefully. “I would be fine to add some ippa to this. Do you have any of the ippa?”
“Not likely.” Tori went to her oven and pulled out a tray of little pastries. “Gosh, Ymir, it’s bad timing for Lillee to get this drunk. The Princept won’t be pleased when she hears about what happened in the tavern.” The little dwab then stopped and sighed. “But she can’t very well get us in trouble, not when she’s breaking all of her own rules. Kissing us. Forging demonic artifacts. Dealing with demons. And if Fluffy eats her, I’ll blame myself. I know I will.”
Ymir left Lillee at the table and went over to Tori. He bent down on a knee. “There won’t be anyone to blame. Della knows what she’s doing. And she will see for herself the demons we are using to further our ends. But you said you wanted to talk about kissing the Princept.”
Red blooms brightened Tori’s cheeks. “Just you saying that I’m going to be kissing the Princept does certain things to me. Us Morbuskor are an upright folk. We respect our thanes. We respect the rules. And we try to do our best to suffer through our Inconveniences. But this? What we’re talking about here? It goes against my nature, Ymir. Yet, you need me. So it’s my own sense of morality versus what’s best for my friends. Are making these rings a good thing?”
Ymir didn’t answer for a long time. He took a moment to look into Tori’s green eyes. He still wore the Crystal Null Ring, and he marveled at the power in the little dwab. Like his other wives, this Morbuskor maiden was built of stern stuff—like the rocks of her underground home.
Ymir knew what she was asking of him. Were they making pacts with demons that wanted to destroy the world? Tori was torn between her own desire for propriety and the bonds she had with her family—Ymir and his ptoor. His sharreb. His ohnessla. Other languages had a word for a harem, but not the Morbuskor.
For Tori, this was a new concept, and she’d come a long way in her understanding of her sexuality and her ties to her chosen family. And Ymir was glad she had doubts about the demons who surrounded the rings. They all should be careful.
At the same time, Ymir had to point out the obvious. “Tori, some would call the battle ax evil. Its purpose is not to hew wood, but to chop bone and hack flesh. It is in the hands of the warrior where the ax finds its purpose, and that resides in the heart of the man who wields it. The rings are the same. Gulnash the Betrayer would’ve bathed Thera in blood. Countless Gruul would’ve died, and he wouldn’t have kept his war on the Blood Steppes. He wanted the world. We used the rings to stop him, like we stopped Marrib Delphino and his merfolk army. And before that? We exposed an assassin in our midst and ended the Midnight Guild. We will use these rings to protect ourselves and our home. This is why Della is willing to risk her life and reputation. This is why I’m taking the risk to forge them.”
Tori shook her head. “No, love, it’s not. You think you’re damned already, a barbarian with magic, and so what’s a bit more damnation? If you’re making a pudding, what’s another pinch of beet sprinkles in the mix?”
Ymir couldn’t hide his grin. “You know me well, Toriah Welldeep. And I forget that you hide your wisdom in smiles and cooking and love and homespun prettiness. Yet at your heart, you see clearly. It’s why you’ve been able to use the Veil Tear Ring so effectively.”
Tori blushed again and pulled him close to kiss his cheek.
She then forced him back. “So, are the rings really just more evil in your already evil life?”
He shook his head and stared into her eyes to show he had nothing to hide. “My life isn’t evil. My life is sweet. I have my wives, and I have my home here at Old Ironbound. The rings are my ax. If I don’t like the path the Axman has cut for me, I’ll hew my own way. And I want you there with me, Tori. I want you there with me every step of the way.”
Tori’s already flushed face reddened. She rolled her eyes, laughed, and escaped his hands. “Save that poetry for Lillee and all those bloody oaths for Gatha. I just find all that love stuff embarrassing. You know how I feel. Gosh me underground, you should, after all the adventures we’ve had together.” She sighed. “So, I’m kissing Della.”
“Looks like it.” Ymir stood up and went to check on Lillee, who was sipping kaif but watching Tori very closely.
The little woman could feel the eyes on her. Still embarrassed, she started piling the sweet pastries into a pretty bowl painted with flowers. “So, do I take the Amora Xoca? How passionate does this kiss have to be?”
“She’s so fucking hot.” Lillee slurred her words. “Tori is so fucking pretty. I love licking her freckles. I love to sniff her tits. Her tits smell so good. And they feel even better. She’s like a cake. Her whole body is like cake.”
“We should bring wine up to Della’s office.” Lillee laughed a little before covering her mouth with her hands. “I called her Della. It’s what she wants, but feels so intimate. Tori should have her Inconvenience. We could have so much fucking fun with Tori’s Inconvenience and our pretty, pretty Princept.”
Lillee leaned back and stuffed both hands between her legs.
Tori blinked, her lips forming a shocked O. She then shook her head. “No, I better have my wits about me. Just pray I don’t get my Inconvenience. Now that I’ve been rubbing noses so much, I sometimes get it just being around sexy people. And you two just might be the sexiest people in this school.”
“Thank you,” Lillee giggled.
Ymir pulled the elf girl off her chair. “We’ll walk her around the feasting hall. We’ll keep giving her coffee and water. And dammit, we’ll sober her up enough, she can—”
“Tongue kiss our Princept,” Lillee finished with a gasp. “The thought of kissing the Princept gets my oheesy so wet.”
Tori winced. “It’s going to be a long night.”
Ymir couldn’t disagree, but again, he didn’t think Della would lose control of herself. For Della, this had to be about crafting the next Akkiric Ring.
Or would he finally see the most Honored Princept naked?
He’d thought about it enough times...
First, though, they had to get the elf princess sober or things might just slip completely out of control.
Chapter Thirteen
THE HONORED PRINCEPT, Della Pennez, sat with tea in her alcove, waiting for Ymir, Lillee, and Toriah. Della had heard of the trouble of the Unicorn’s Uht, but Ymir had taken care of it. He’d even cleaned up after himself, and yes, it was worrisome, but he’d addressed the issue quickly and efficiently.
This made her feel better about the decision to cross lines she’d sworn she’d never cross. Kissing scholars was one thing, forging demonic artifacts was another.
Ymir was right. Aegel Akkridor had forged the rings. She’d always suspected that was the case, but after reading sections of Circulum, some rare poems by Octovato, and Akkiric, Akkoric, Akkarotic by Derzahla Lubda, there was some evidence. For example, ever the mathematician, Octovato said the perfect circles were eight in number, eight circles that wouldn’t fit into thirty, but would fit into thirty-two. However, perfections of eight ended at twenty-four. At the time, she hadn’t considered what the numerology might mean. Now, she understood that Octovato was referring to Aegel Akkridor, the thirtieth vempor of his line.
If he had all eight Akkiric Rings, that just might explain how he’d lived so long.
If she dared, she could write a book on the rings, the vempor, and a possible connection to history. Better to find a professor to do the work for her and not get the credit because she couldn’t have her name connected to the Akkiric Rings. Not after what she was planning to do.
She sipped her tea. No wine for her. She had to have a clear head.
Ymir, Lillee, and Toriah would be coming. She would kiss them. Then she would put on the Veil Tear Ring. She might die.
But she wouldn’t do anything more than kiss these scholars. That she had vowed. She’d smoke a dozen kharo sticks. She’d masturbate a dozen times that night. She would get good and drunk if she survived. But she wouldn’t, under any circumstances, be fucking Ymir and his wives.
And yet, she knew herself. She knew that once the lust hit her, once the tingling started, she sometimes betrayed herself. Sarina Sia would be watching.
For the most part, Sarina had been quiet that fall. Why?
Della didn’t know, but it did make her suspicious.
None of this felt right.
Della knew how that felt, how betraying your morals, doing things that were wrong, brought a certain weight to them. How you handled that weight was key. In being an assassin? It had been critical. It was best to make yourself forget what you had to do until you had to do it. It was compartmentalizing the feelings, putting everything aside, with ultimate mental discipline.
Until it was time for the kill.
Then, after, depending on the nature of the murder, you let it go. Sometimes, you pretended that it never happened at all.
It took mental discipline, to be sure. To not obsess either in anticipation or in regret. The mystics called that living in the moment. Doing such a thing could give you peace of mind. For an assassin, it was the road to basic sanity.
Della was nervous, but she didn’t need to be right then. Ymir and his lovely wives weren’t there yet. She wasn’t putting on the ring at that moment. She was simply sitting, drinking tea, waiting, and all was serene, even the lightning tracing the shelves around the library.
She shouldn’t be nervous. She was. And she grew more jittery when Ymir appeared. Lillee was with him. The sweet Morbuskor maid carried a bowl of pastries. Lillee brought a bottle of wine.
Was the elf girl weaving? Was her face a bit flushed?
Della could’ve chalked it up to nervousness, but Lillee had been at the Unicorn’s Uht that very night. She must’ve been drinking.
A drunken Sullied elf’s inhibitions would be low, especially since she wasn’t wearing her essess. Cuff-less, Lillee might be too wild to handle.
Della felt the tingles of lust dance across her sex.
She showed no emotion. She tipped her head. “Ymir, Lillee, Toriah. I didn’t expect canapes for this night’s work. Or wine.”
Lillee set the bottle of wine down. Ymir had four glasses in his fingers, and he set them down. He poured the wine because the disgraced Ohlyrran princess wasn’t in any shape to be pouring anything.
The dwab put the bowl on the table. “It’s okay if you call me Tori, I suppose. Since, you know, we’ll be kissing. I know it has to be passionate, gosh me underground I do, but I didn’t take any of the Amora Xoca. And I don’t have my Inconvenience. And I know I’m talking too much, but I’m a bit nervous.”
Della wanted to embrace the dwab to comfort her. Instead, she stayed seated. “Don’t be nervous, Tori. We’ll get through this. Other than Ymir, I’ve not kissed a scholar before. Not in all my time as a professor or as a Princept. This is new for me as well, and I can appreciate your anxiety.”
The Princept didn’t own her own nervousness. She had to be a rock among the waves of their youthful passions. Della motioned to them. “Please, sit. And we’ll discuss who goes first.”
Lillee boldly sat on the couch. Her green eyes were bright with lust and dull from drink, and Della found herself pondering the elf girl’s pink lips.
Tori sat on the chair to Della’s left. Ymir sat on the chair to the right.
He had on three of the rings at that moment—one being the Crystal Null Ring.
Della pointed. “I’ll need that, I think, to delve into Gulnash’s soul. When I put on the Veil Tear.”
Ymir took off the Crystal Null and placed it on the table. From a pocket, he plucked the Gather Breath and set it down. Silver and black, the Veil Tear Ring joined the others.
Della rethought her tea and decided on wine. Just one wouldn’t hurt. She lifted her glass. “Let us drink to necessary things. To dangerous things. And to the Majestrial.”
They all raised their glasses, and all of them drained them.
Lillee was sitting so close. She seemed so brazen, and yes, given the chance, that Sullied elf would get on her knees and lick an orgasm out of Della without a second thought.
Della would have to do the thinking for the both of them.
Ymir poured them more wine. “We’ll start with the Gather Breath. Put it on, and you’ll feel our duszas. That will connect us at first. Once you feel our souls, then we will kiss y
ou.”
“I’ll go first,” Lillee said quickly. It was like she was shocked at herself for being so eager.
“I’ll go last.” Tori was blushing.
If Della didn’t know better, she’d think the dwab was horny, but no, that probably wasn’t the case. Unless she was having her Inconvenience, which wasn’t likely. The Morbuskor had kept that a secret for the most part, but Della had access to knowledge others didn’t. It was the nature of being the Honored Princept of the Majestrial Collegium Universitas.
Ymir nodded. “We have the order. Let us proceed.”
Lillee had her hand on Della’s thigh. It felt wrong, forbidden, and Della was having second thoughts. Especially when Lillee’s other hand pulled open her own robes more to show more of that cleavage. She was wearing some kind of camisole, lacy, with buttons. She undid a few buttons as well and stroked her own smooth skin.
For the first time, perhaps ever, Della had the idea that maybe Lillee was better off wearing her essess—that didn’t justify the mark of the Sullied on her temple, not at all. However, the elf girl might have wild urges that needed a firm leash.
Then again, was Della any different?
She found herself staring into the elf maiden’s eyes. She felt the pull to kiss this gorgeous Ohlyrran, with her delicate features, her pointed ears, her full, pink lips.
“I want to kiss you, Princept. I want to get closer to you. I want to feel you. Please.”
Lillee closed the distance. Their bodies were touching, and Della couldn’t think for a moment.
Lillee got up and undid her robes and camisole so that most of her tits were exposed—not the nipple, just the lush valley of her cleavage. Then the elf was straddling her on the couch, stroking Della’s short white hair, purring.
Della realized there was a good chance she wasn’t leaving that couch without fucking the elf, the barbarian, maybe even the little dwab who was looking at them with shining eyes.