Taken by Storm

by Anna Argent

Her trembling grew as did the lovely noise spilling from her lips. Warrian suckled harder and pet her clit until he felt the little flutters signaling her release.

  His Isa did not worry about dignity or silence when it came to her pleasure, and he loved that about her. She threw herself into the moment, giving freely of herself, clutching his shoulders and crying out his name over and over.

  Before anyone could hear, Warrian covered her mouth with his, drinking down all those sweet little sounds that heated his blood. Finally, when the last shudders passed through her, and she draped herself limp and sated against his chest, she fell quiet.

  He was still thick and hard, throbbing inside of her. Part of him wanted to pull away and let her sleep, but the rest of him needed to give her more pleasure, needed to fill her with his seed as the clenching pleasure of her release milked him. There was an intimacy in that he craved—knowing that part of him remained inside of her.

  It was a primitive thing, but one he could not control. The need raged within him, urging him to slide her limp body under his and fill her.

  Instead, he rolled her beneath him and clenched his jaw as he pulled his cock free of her clinging heat.

  Isa grabbed his hips with a strength he hadn’t realized she possessed. “That’s it?” she asked. “You’re done?”

  It took him a moment to understand the strange term, but her meaning was clear. “You’re tired.”

  A devious twinkle lit her eyes. “I’m not that tired. Besides, an empress deserves more than just one orgasm, don’t you think? I mean, I know you’ve had a rough day of travel and all, and I can ask someone else if—”

  He didn’t let her finish. Anything she would have said would have only served to infuriate him. He knew she was toying with him, challenging him on purpose, but he refused to be pulled in.

  Instead, he thrust forward, sheathing his cock fully within her in one slick stroke. The air rushed from her lungs, and her fingers dug into his shoulders.

  “There will be no one else,” he told her as he surged forward, filling her and retreating in a pace he knew would push her to the heights of pleasure fastest. “Only me. I will give you all the orgasms you can stand, until you beg me to stop.”

  “Her Imperial Majyr does not beg,” she said, a faint grin tugging at her lips. “I’m sure someone somewhere told me that.”

  Warrian smiled at the challenge. “We shall see.”

  He began to move, using her responses to gauge his success. He knew what she liked. He knew how she wanted to be touched. After a while, he could determine what would drive her to release by picking up on the smallest of cues. The grip of her fingers, the sound of her cries, the arch of her back—it all melded together into a string of stimuli he used to wage war upon her body until she was limp and quivering beneath him from the series of climaxes he’d pulled from her.

  In the end, the idea of making her beg left a sour taste in his mouth. He didn’t want her to have to beg for anything, ever. He wanted her to be happy and sated.

  Finally, the tension building within him was too much to bear. He pushed her body to orgasm one last time and gathered her close while he let go of his control. She clenched around his cock, dragging the searing sensations of pleasure out until he was sure his body would fly apart from the force of it.

  Each powerful release of his seed made her cry out until her voice was hoarse and her breaths were coming in short, hard bursts.

  Warrian slumped to her side, utterly spent. He knew his heavy body would crush hers if he fell asleep, but his heart was pounding too hard to give him any rest.

  Complete satisfaction radiated through him, tingling through his limbs and wherever his skin clung to hers. He lay there for a while, simply soaking in pure contentment—something so rare and beautiful, he was certain he’d never felt anything quite like it before.

  Isa let out a soft sigh as she drifted back into sleep. Warrian pushed to his knees and sparked the garala to life in order to finish his duty to her. He was about to lay the strands of light across her belly when his brain finally kicked in and he came to a shocking halt.

  Pink light flowed between his fingers—the color of new life and hope, not the pale gray light that should have been there. He hadn’t intended to summon the power that would hasten the growth of a child within her. He’d simply willed the device to life, expecting it to do as it had always done when he’d bedded a woman.

  Warrian stared at the light for a long time, watching the play of it over her skin. The color suited her, creating alluring shadows and highlights that drove away some of his exhaustion.

  It was only a matter of time before the council became desperate for an heir. She didn’t understand what they would be capable of if she denied them. Warrian would be the first obstacle to be eliminated. Rohra would be next if she stood in the way. Eventually, the council would get what they wanted. But if Isa gave them what they asked for, if Warrian let nature take its course, there would be no point to getting rid of him or anyone else. Her heir would grow inside of her. He could stay with her. With their child.

  The idea trickled through him, warm and compelling until it fizzled out as it hit reality. He knew Isa’s feelings. She had been very clear. She was not ready for a child. If he did this, there would be no perfect ending. His betrayal would ensure that whatever trust she had for him would be slain. That life he saw glimmer in his mind was nothing more than fantasy. Everyone had a place, and his was not as the father of her children.

  As he finally came to his senses, the light began to change and darken. It shifted from pink to the faint gray it should have been all along.

  He draped the strands of lightning across her skin, watching them sink into her.

  She let out a soft sigh.

  It was the right thing to do. The only thing to do. He knew that. Still, when he did the right thing, it usually didn’t make him feel quite so… empty. Restless.

  There was nothing tying them together beyond the promise of security and the passion they shared. Both of those were fleeting. Both would be destroyed as soon as the council found a way to do so. All he could hope for now were a few stolen moments with a woman who shook him to his soul.

  Warrian pulled her close and closed his eyes. Moments like this were fleeting, and he refused to waste one on worrying over what he could not change.

  Time slipped by. Dawn lightened the room. Warrian couldn’t sleep, but he knew the coming day would bring trouble. He’d been locked in the room with Isa all night. That wasn’t something that the council would simply let slide by, unpunished.

  A light knock sounded on the door. Warrian slipped from the warm bed and pressed his hear against the thick wood. “Yes?”

  “It’s Rohra. The council is on their way. Let me in.”

  He pulled on his pants and lifted the bar, letting the older warrior slip inside before bolting it again.

  “Why are you here?” he asked.

  She glanced at the bed and Isa’s naked limbs peeking out from beneath the bedding. “If you leave now, they may believe I was the one here all night.”

  Warrian’s lust stirred as he gazed upon Isa. Her skin had a rosy glow. Her hair was unbraided, the ribbons strewn around the bed. The musk of sex lingered in the air. No one would look upon her and not know she had been taken and loved last night.

  He pulled his eyes away from the alluring sight to address Rohra in a whisper. “You are just as susceptible to punishment as I am.”

  She shook her fuzzy head. “No. No one will suspect me of anything. She is my brother’s daughter.”

  Warrian let the shock of that news pass through him. “Does Pretor know?”

  “Yes. I’m certain of it. He was the one who issued my brother’s execution order. There was no other reason he would have done so.” She pulled on his arm. “Go now, before it’s too late.”

  Isa sat up in bed, holding the sheet over her breasts. “What’s going on?” she asked, her voice thick with sleep.

 
; Rohra went to the bed and started picking up ribbons and clothing. “Please, Your Imperial Majyr, tell your man to go. The council will be here any moment. They will execute him for being with you like this.”

  Isa looked at Warrian. All signs of sleep fell away, and a feral rage lit her eyes. “Like hell they will.”

  Outside, he heard the heavy sound of footsteps. Many footsteps. A moment later there was a hard knock on the door.

  “That’s them,” said Rohra, panic spurring her movements.

  “Relax,” said Isa. “I think it’s time we have a nice sit down. Go ahead and let them in.”

  “Are you sure?” asked Warrian, feeling his blood heat in preparation for battle.

  “I’m sure,” she said, rising from the bed wearing only a thin sheet. “And once they’re in, bolt the door behind them. No one’s going anywhere until this is settled.”

  Chapter Thirty-two

  Isa refused to let a stodgy group of old men ruin her morning. Her body was humming from the pleasure Warrian had given her last night. She’d slept better than she had since coming here, and knew that his presence at her side was to thank for that miracle. She was getting used to the increased pull of gravity. And to top it all off, her head was finally clear enough to give her room to think.

  Warrian let a quartet of men enter. She recognized Pretor and Utral, and knew the faces of the other two, if not their names.

  “Is this everyone?” she asked.

  “Everyone?” said Pretor as if confused.

  “Are there any more members of your lynch mob coming, or is it just the four of you?”

  “Four is enough.”

  She didn’t fall into the trap of asking what four of them was enough for. Instead, she nodded at Warrian, who shut the door behind them and let the bolt fall with a heavy thud.

  “I’m glad you’re here. We have some things to discuss.”

  “We most certainly do, Your Imperial Majyr. First—”

  “Nope,” she said, cutting him off. “I’m going first. You four have a seat over there and listen.”

  The older men shared concerned looks, but did as she asked, sitting in the alcove directly across from the steaming bath.

  Isa propped her hips on the edge of a chair and addressed the men as if she weren’t wearing only a sheet. “I’ve heard this nasty rumor I was hoping you could clear up.”

  “What rumor is that?”

  “That you guys are actually barbaric and backward enough to think that you have the right to hurt someone simply because I choose to sleep with them. That can’t possibly be true, can it?”

  Pretor’s face went red first. “Your Imperial Majyr’s womb is property of the empire. We cannot allow any man to fill it. That is a decision made by the council alone.”

  Rage exploded inside of Isa, detonating with such force she was sure that smoke was pouring from her ears. It took every ounce of willpower she had to keep her voice at a reasonable level. “Did you really just say that? Please tell me I’m having some kind of gravitationally-induced hallucination.”

  “You heard me,” said Pretor. “This… warrior should never have been allowed in your presence in your state of undress.”

  “I invited him. My body, my rules. And if you all don’t like it, feel free to take a flying leap from my balcony. I’ll even give you a boost.”

  Pretor was sputtering on his own bile, leaving Utral to speak for him. “You must understand, Your Imperial Majyr, these laws are in place for a reason. We must insure the continuation of your bloodline in a responsible fashion. The device will only work for those of your descent.”

  “I’m not letting any kid of mine get in that machine. Ever. Do you understand? It will not happen. That thing killed my mother. It’s nearly killed me at least once. Even if it means I never, ever experience the joy of motherhood, I’m not going to grow you a weapon. Period.”

  “The law stands,” said Pretor. “You allowed this man to see you naked, to touch you. He knew when he did so that he was committing an act of treason. Justice will be done.”

  “Justice?” she asked sweetly. “What kind of justice do you have in mind?”

  “The sentence is clear. He will be executed for his crimes.”

  “Of seeing me naked and touching me?” she asked, just to be clear.

  “Yes.”

  Isa grabbed Pretor’s hand as she let the sheet fall. She smashed the back of his fingers against her breast, cringing as she did, and then stepped back. Her skin crawled from his touch, but she ignored it, giving him a hard stare. “Now you’ve seen me naked and touched me too.”

  Two of the men looked away, but Utral’s eyes fixed on her pubic hair, his mouth going slack.

  The urge to hide herself was almost overwhelming, but she held her ground.

  Warrian grabbed the sheet and covered her back up, growling low in his chest.

  “Whatever happens to Warrian, now happens to you, Pretor. So I have to ask, how’s that law looking to you right about now?”

  “You tricked me. Forced me.”

  “So? Maybe I forced Warrian too.”

  Pretor eyed the big man hovering by her side. “Ridiculous.”

  “Yeah? I dare you to try to prove it. And even if you can, even if you’ve got some squirrelly set of laws that makes you immune somehow, I want to be super clear on this next part.” She leaned down until she was right in his face. “If anything happens to Warrian, Rohra or any other person I like, the next thing I target when I get in the machine will be your dick. I’m not sure how good the cannon is with pinpoint accuracy, but I’m pretty sure my aim will be good enough to give you a really bad day. Understand?”

  Pretor shoved to his feet, towering over her. “Your behavior will not be tolerated. You cannot simply come here and defy our law.”

  “Fine. I’ll go home then. Feel free to find someone else to wage your war. At this point, I’ll take my freezing, ice-riddled state where I’m free to pick who I fuck over your balmy, bassackward empire any day of the week.” She turned her back, stalking away toward the bath, muttering, “My womb is property of the empire, my ass… how the hell have you people survived this long? I swear, I should just let the Raide kill you off and do the universe a favor.” She nodded to Warrian. “Get them out of my sight.”

  He hid a grin as he bowed his head. “Yes, Your Imperial Majyr. With pleasure.”

  From the look of hatred Pretor shot her as he left, she knew he wouldn’t let this drop. And until he did, Warrian was still in danger.

  Isa stepped down into the hot bath, letting it wash away some of her rage.

  Warrian crouched next to her. “Pretor will find a way to get what he wants.”

  “Can I fire him?”

  “No. His position is inherited.”

  “Who’s in line after him?”

  “His son.”

  “Is he a raging asshole, too?”

  Rohra snickered, reminding Isa she was still there.

  “What do you think, Rohra? Is Pretor going to continue with his douchebaggery, or did I scare him off?”

  Rohra’s tanned face crinkled with confusion. “Douchebaggery, Your Imperial Majyr?”

  Isa waved a wet hand. “It’s an Earth thing. It means he’s a big, stupid jerk.”

  “He is not stupid, Your Imperial Majyr. Pretor is cunning. He knows the laws and will twist them to his advantage. He will get what he wants. The council always gets what they want.”

  “Great.” Isa sank below the water and let out a loud scream of frustration.

  *****

  By the time Isa reached the weapon room, she knew something big was going down. A cool wind gusted through the room, flowing in from the open dome above. She could feel the heavy brush of humidity in the air and the scent of an impending storm.

  A group of huge, scary looking men were waiting for them. Each of them wore the same braid as Warrian and Rohra, as well as the silver and gold rings of the garala. The man standing in the center of the
line was older than the rest—in his fifties—scarred and covered in dirt. Sand clung to his boots, and a heavy sense of grim weariness hung around his big frame.

  Warrian was at her side, and as soon as he saw the man, he snapped to attention.

  “Who is this?” she asked him.

  Warrian didn’t answer, but the battle-scarred man did. “I am Sekrian, Your Imperial Majyr, Second Battle Leader of House Loriah.”

  “He is Warrian’s commander,” said Pretor, his tone filled with smug satisfaction.

  A sinking feeling pulled her down, threatening to buckle her knees. Warrian wasn’t supposed to be here. He was supposed to be back on Earth, looking for other people like her.

  “Warrian is a deserter,” said Pretor. “He is to be tried for his crimes.”

  “Not a deserter,” Sekrian corrected. “He left his post, not the battle.”

  Pretor’s face darkened. “I told you I wanted him tried for desertion.”

  “There is no evidence to support your claim,” said Sekrian. “He stands here, still garbed as a warrior, protecting Loriah’s empress.”

  “That’s right,” Isa hurried to say, since Warrian’s lips seemed to be welded shut. “I asked him to be my personal guard. That has to count for something.”

  Sekrian bowed his head. “I’m sorry, Your Imperial Majyr, but he already confessed to leaving his post. I received word that he was here, and was only now able to free myself to come and collect him.”

  Warrian stood beside her, staring straight ahead, his face stony. He wouldn’t look at her. She could see no sign of emotion beyond his seeming acceptance of what was going down.

  “Aren’t you going to defend yourself, Warrian?” she asked.

  He remained silent. Stoic.

  Pretor’s mouth scrunched in a frown of haughty distaste. “There is no defense he can offer. I would have thought that the stain his father had put on his family name would have been enough to encourage Warrian to walk with honor. Apparently, I was mistaken.”

  “What stain?” she asked.

  Pretor opened his mouth, but Sekrian was faster, watching Warrian as he spoke. “His father fell in love with a woman beneath his station. Warrian is a direct result of that illegal union.”