Falling Warriors Series Collection (Books 1, 2 & 1.5)

by Nicole René

  “Don’t,” she said again, voice cracking. She pointed at a shaking finger at his person.

  “You embarrassed me in front of all those people,” she said, fresh tears making tracks down her cheeks. “How can you do that to me? Why would you make me endure that?”

  Tyronian’s expression changed, turning dark and angry and in and instant she was in his arms, despite her struggles.

  “Why?” he asked her, easily managing her struggles. “I did it for you!” he roared, shaking her in his grip. “I was protecting you!”

  “You did no such thing!” Namoriee screamed back, finally snapping. She wrenched herself out of his arms and away from.

  “You did it because you were merely a dog marking his territory for everyone to see. You didn’t do it for me,” she spat hatefully, “you did it for yourself, Tyronian!”

  He reared back, as if she slapped him again, his angry expression slowly falling. He took a step toward her and hurt flashed across his face when she took one back, ensuring that he couldn’t touch her.

  “Namoriee.” His voice was meek, almost broken.

  “I don’t ever want to see you again,” she rasped, her breath stuttering out of her.

  She bent at the waist, letting a few of the sobs she was trying to get control of out. She heard him say her name again, but it was watery and whispered. Too many emotions were swarming her, she couldn’t handle it. When she looked back up at him, his blue eyes were red-rimmed.

  “Just…” she cut off, grabbing her hair and clenching in her frustration. She stifled another sob as she took several steps back, her hand slashing the air in an angry jerk.

  “Just stay away from me!”

  Then, she did what she was good at. What had always protected her, and what had gotten her into this mess in the first place.

  She ran.

  Namoriee blinked her eyes open, the sound of birds chirping merrily greeting her ears as a way of “good morning.” She sat up, the blanket covering her slipping down. She looked down at her naked chest, her still groggy mind trying to remember how she became naked.

  After Tyronian and her had a fight and—she flushed—made up, she had fallen asleep in her old hut, and then woke up in the middle of Tyronian carrying her back to their own. They had made love again, were Tyronian handled her body sensually, as if he was making up for his rough treatment earlier. As if he had sensed her thinking about him, the door opened, and her husband walked through the door. He paused once he saw her awake before he turned, closing the door with a decisive thud. The glint in his eyes when he turned around to face her was one that she was quickly becoming familiar with.

  It made her heart race, and her nipples to harden as arousal zinged through her with the same intensity with her nervousness.

  The steamy glint meant that last night wasn’t enough for him.

  “W-w-what are you doing?” Namoriee asked, her voice breathy with fear and excitement. It drove Tyronian crazy because he could see the flush that started crawling up her neck as her eyes flashed with the desire that she tried so desperately to hide from him. He grinned, taking great pleasure in the way her erratic breaths made her breasts heave as he started to slowly unbutton his pants.

  “It’s time for me to take another of your first’s.” Namoriee gasped, no doubt shocked at his bluntness.

  “Come here and get on your knees.” He motioned to the ground in front of him, letting out a husky chuckle when her eyes widened, but was riveted to the sight of him fisting his arousal when he was finally standing naked in front of her.

  She didn’t move.

  “Don’t make me come get you Namoriee,” he warned, “I doubt you’d get as much pleasure as I will when I have to make your gorgeous bottom blush for misbehaving again. You have ‘till the count of three.” He heard her breath hitch, but she still refused to move. “One.”

  He took a step forward. “Two.”

  Her chest was positively heaving now, and he could see the wildness and grudging want in her eyes. His feet continued to take him toward her. He could see that her fight or flight instinct was kicking in. Her mind was telling her one thing, but her body was telling her another.

  Flight won; she stayed where she was.

  “Three,” he whispered down at her when he reached their bed. His hand shot out, grabbed her ankle and yanked her down and over onto her stomach.

  The smack he delivered was the first of many, and by the time he was done, her bottom was rosy with his handprint. He traced his fingertip of the heated skin.

  “This might be my new favorite look on you, besides you naked.”

  His fingers trailed down between the crack of her ass and touched the puckered hole. “I’m going to take you here,” he said huskily. She stiffened when he pressed his thumb against it. “Not yet,” he assured her, “but someday. I told you before that I’m going to be your first everything, and I meant that.”

  He moved his hand away and continued its trail downward until his thumb brushed other her swollen bud. She groaned quietly when he inserted a finger inside of her, her wetness making it easy for him to burry inside of her knuckle deep.

  “Look at how wet and pretty you are,” he whispered, watcher her back flutter as she shivered. “You love when I touch this pretty cunt don’t you?”

  She gasped when he inserted another finger, scissoring them inside of her. She was still so tight, her channel trying to deny him entrance the same way her heart did. “Or maybe, your cunt likes everything I do to it. Is that it, my sweet?” he crooned. “Does this snatch like what I do to it? How I make it feel?”

  She made a low noise in her throat, and he waited until he could feel her insides start to flutter and pulse, on brink of orgasm for him to pull out. She expelled a harsh breath at the sudden loss before she squeaked when he picked her up suddenly, bending her until her back at an angle that had head resting on his shoulders.

  “Wrap your legs around me,” he ordered in a mutter. She quickly did as she was told, her calves encasing his hips. She felt the slipper head brush against her slick folds before he pushed inside her in one, sure plunge. She cried out, the position, though awkward and like nothing she probably has ever hear of, he knew made him brush against something deep inside of her. He bent, one arm anchored underneath her breast while the other clamped on her hip as he thrust. He did all the work, pistoling himself inside of her, his thigh muscles bunching with their strength while his hips thrust in a steady rhythm, edging her closer to her breaking point.

  And once again, right when she on the pinnacle of release—he stopped.

  “Tyronian!” she wailed in desperation. “Please!”

  He turned her around in his arms before he slid her down his body, his hands buried in her hair hold her in place once she was on her knees.

  “Open your mouth,” he growled. He was barely hanging on. When she didn’t do it right away, he pulled her hair in warning. She whimpered but finally, finally, she opened her mouth. He groaned when the hot crevice of her mouth welcomed him. It felt so good. He thrust in deeper, watching with half lidded eyes when she gagged, her hands flying up to grip his waist. He eased back.

  “Gods, you make me crazy,” he rasped, pumping into her mouth with more gentle strokes. “I’m not gonna last long.”

  She gagged when he pushed deeper again, holding him there just long enough for her to start to panic before he ripped himself out. He gave her only a moment to gasp, gulp precious air she thought she lost, before he shoved into her mouth again. He continued to take her mouth this way, knowing that he was being too rough for her first time, but he vowed that he would make it up to her. Later, they would have another lesson, and he would treat her throat gently, train her on how to please him, but right now he couldn’t.

  His spine started to tingle, and his legs started to shake, his sac grew heavy, as the mother of all climaxes drew down on him. He pulled back sharply.

  “Stick out your tongue,” he ordered. One hand kept her he
ad still while the other fisted his cock in furious strokes.

  “Now!” he barked when she didn’t follow his direction right away. She did as she was told, just in time, too, because a moment later he let out a long, drawn out moan and watched as his semen coated her tongue and dribbled down her lips. He was still panting as he watched with half lidded when Namoriee went to wipe her mouth with the blanket that had fallen to the floor.

  “No,” he stopped her, taking it away. “Swallow.”

  She hesitated, uncomfortable, but did it and damn if it didn’t make him cock spring to life at the sight. When she licked her lips, wiping away the drops that had missed her tongue, it was enough to make him want to take her mouth again, just so he could put the droplets back.

  “Damn it all,” he muttered before he swooped her up and placed her back on the bed.

  “What are you doing?” she piped in a squeak.

  “Returning the favor,” he told her before burring his head between the apex of her thighs and got to work.

  Tyronian leaned against the door jamb, watching the scene in front of him with a content smile. Namoriee was on all fours on the floor, looking under the blanket of their bed with exaggeration.

  “Where’ Xillik?” she asked the room, ignoring the giggle coming from the inside the chest in front of her, who’s lid was propped up, two blue eyes peeking out from the crack to watch as Namoriee searched the room.

  “Xillik? Are you under here?” Namoriee asked, lifting the pillow. Another giggle broke out.

  “Huh,” Namoriee stood, placing her hands on her hips. “I just can’t find him. Where could he be?”

  “Boo!” Xillik yelled, standing up from within the chest with a wide, excited smile. Namoriee yelped, whirling around, her eyes wide as if the child truly startled her.

  “There you are!” Namoriee exclaimed, lifting Xillik in her arms and tickling his stomach, making him squeal. “I looked everywhere for you! You’re such a good hider.”

  Xillik struggled in her arms, laughing hysterically as she continued to tickle him. Xillik’s gaze found his.

  “Tyty! Help!”

  Namoriee turned to look behind her at that, surprise on her face.

  “How long have you been there?”

  “Long enough,” he replied cheekily. He started to them. “Now, it seems that you have someone who needs my assistance, and being the gallant warrior, I am, who am I to refuse?”

  Namoriee snorted, backing away as he started to circle them.

  “Gallant wouldn’t first choice I would go with.”

  “Why you—!”

  He lunged for them, and both Namoriee and Xillik screamed and dashed away. They were all laughing manically when after a time Xillik decided to change his allegiance and the game became keep-away-from-Tyronian and helped Namoriee gang up on him.

  They didn’t stop playing until the dinner, and it was the most fun he’s had in ages.

  “Heels down.”

  “Point your toes.”

  “Stop touching her mane and pay attention.”

  Those were the words that reached Namoriee’s ears and she smiled at what she saw. Xillik was astride their smallest pony, Kimsung, who ambled along dutifully as Xavier led her around, instructing Xillix on the proper form as Leawyn watched fretfully on the sidelines.

  “How’s he doing?”

  Leawyn jumped in surprise, looking at her sideways as she came to a stop beside her. She quickly returned her gaze to Xavier and Xillik. “Good,” she answered, biting her lip.

  “Don’t look so worried,” she laughed. Leawyn’s gave her a sheepish smile, her eyes never leaving her boys.

  “He’s just so young…”

  “Most are that age when they start to learn,” Namoriee pointed out.

  “I know, but it’s different. I know Xavier is there but he’s my baby. Everything changes when you have kids.” Leawyn smiled wistfully. She shot a look at her, grin turning playful.

  “You’ll learn that once you and Tyronian have a babe.”

  Namoriee blanched. “I’m too young to have a child.”

  “I wasn’t much older than you when I had Xillik.”

  “I don’t want kids,” she stressed, “and it’s my body.”

  Leawyn made a noncommittal humming sound. Namoriee’s lips firmed, shaking her head in irritation. She watched Xavier and Xillik for a bit, before turning her attention back to Leawyn.

  “Leawyn, I think—”

  A loud thump, followed by a wail had Leawyn’s head snapping in the direction of the ring.

  “Xillik!” Leawyn yelped, running over to the fallen form of her son. “What happened?”

  “He needed to learn balance,” Xavier said, folding his arms. “I made ensured that he did.”

  “You let him go?” Leawyn stood, lifting Xillix to her arms. “He’s barely three, Xavier!” Leawyn yelled, brushing Xillix’s hair off his forehead, and holding him close to her chest, soothing him as he cried.

  Xavier shrugged. “He’s not harmed. It merely startled him.”

  Leawyn glared at her husband. “This lesson is over. You shouldn’t have done that. He wasn’t ready!”

  Xavier’s eyes darkened, and Namoriee grew nervous at the look on his face.

  “He’s going to take over the tribe someday. He’s going to be a warrior, and it's our custom that he rides a horse. He needs to be the best. He will be the best. This is our way, and you know it. I won’t let you coddle him, Leawyn.”

  He took a step toward them, and though Leawyn didn’t shy away, Namoriee saw her grip on Xillik tighten.

  “He needs to learn balance, and if it takes him falling off a horse multiple times to do that, so be it. Now, put him back on the horse. His lesson is over when I say it’s over.”

  Leawyn and Xavier squared off with each other, neither breaking eye contact or backing down.

  “Don’t make me punish you, Leawyn,” Xavier said with soft menace. “This isn’t something you can sway me on.”

  After a few more tense moments that had Namoriee’s anxiety mounting, Leawyn’s shoulders dropped, and she swung Xillix back on Kimsung’s back in defeat.

  “Hold tight, sweet boy,” Leawyn whispered to him as she wiped a tear off his cheek and smiled encouragingly. She stepped back when Xavier grabbed the reins again. She shot him another nasty look before going back to her spot to watch, Namoriee following dutifully behind her.

  Xillix fell off three more times, and each time he did, Leawyn’s expression grew stormier and stormier. Namoriee knew right away that she was going to stay clear of Leawyn’s hut tonight.

  She didn’t know who she was more afraid of—Xavier, or Leawyn.

  Namoriee was silent as she followed Leawyn as she carried Xillix back to the village. When Xavier had called the lesson over, Leawyn hadn’t wasted any time in taking Xillix away, ignoring Xavier when he tried to tell her that Xillix should walk. The filthy glare her lady shot her husband at that comment shut even him up.

  She didn’t know where Leawyn had inherited her spine of iron, but she was slightly envious. Or, at least a bit worried for her mental health.

  “I’m going to kill him,” Leawyn seethed when they finally made it back to her hut. “I’m gonna to wring his neck and kill him! He could have gotten seriously hurt! It’s his son! I”

  Considering she just watched Leawyn practically fling Xillix down on their bed, her words lost some of the merit in them. No way was she pointing that out to her though. She preferred her neck attached to her body.

  “Leawyn,” Namoriee began, trying to calm her. “Xillik is fine. Xavier was only doing what his father did to him.”

  She shrank back at the look Leawyn gave her. She blinked at the finger that was suddenly inches away from her nose.

  “You do not take his side,” Leawyn growled. “Ever!

  Wide-eyed, Namoriee could only nod in agreement.

  “Good!” Leawyn beamed, as if nothing happened. “Now, I need you to take Xillik
for me. I think it best that he’s not here when I—” A weird expression crossed her face and then a wet slapping sound cut off the details of Leawyn’s murder plan. They both looked down, eyes growing wide when they see water stain grow on Leawyn’s dress.

  “My Lady…” Namoriee gaped, fear and excitement coursing through her.

  Leawyn sighed, despondent.

  “Xavier is so lucky right now.”

  “He’s coming along nicely,” Tyronian called out to Xavier, propping a foot up on the wood post as he leaned his front against the gate. Xavier glanced his way and steered Knox in his direction. Tyronian ducked under the fence once Xavier dismounted, meeting him halfway.

  “He’s strong,” Xavier said, patting Knox’s neck.

  “You asked to see me?” Tyronian said, breaking the silence that had befallen between them. “Yes,” Xavier motioned for him to follow him as he led Knox back to the pasture. “Have you heard word from Tristan?”

  “No, the last time I saw him was at my wedding.”

  The only sign of Xavier’s worry was the crease at his brows.

  “He’ll return when he’s ready. He just needs time.” Tyronian said, upon noticing Xavier’s expression.

  “It’s been close to three winters!” Xavier burst out, “how much time does he possibly need?”

  “As long as it takes,” Tyronian answered sternly. “You mustn’t force him to stay Xavier…not if he doesn’t want to.”

  Xavier scowled at that. “He has no choice”

  “You can’t control everyone, cousin,” Tyronian laughed. “There’s this pesky thing called ‘free will.’”

  “I control a village of over two hundred strong, I can control anything I desire.”

  “I’ll be sure to tell that to your wife.”

  Xavier smirked at that. He opened the gate to the pasture, barely getting the halter off before Knox took off, galloping happily into the fields. Xavier’s expression was grim as he turned to face him. “Tyronian, I have to talk to you about the Siraces.”