Bound to the Battle God

by Ruby Dixon

  He’s right. I don’t want to admit how much I need him to touch me right now. Saying “yes, please touch me” would give him all kinds of power over me. He’d hold it over my head. He’d remind me of it constantly. He’s so arrogant that I don’t want him to have one over me.

  But god, I want him to touch me.

  “Admit it, Faith.”

  “I admit nothing.” My voice has a wobble in it.

  “Not even the truth?” The tip of Aron’s nose brushes against mine, and he’s so close I can see each thick, dark eyelash that frames his intense gaze. “You won’t ask? Not even to receive the pleasure you know I can give you?”

  That makes me quiver all over. Oh Jesus, he is way too good at this game.

  Aron leans in closer, and his lips are practically against mine as he speaks. I feel them move, forming the words he says, soft and slow. “Shall I touch you?”

  I whimper, unable to fight it any longer. “God, yes.”

  One big hand pushes through the slit in my skirts, and then his callused fingers are stroking over my pussy. I’m soaking wet, my thighs damp with my arousal, and I can feel my need coating his hand. I want to close my eyes so I don’t see the expression of triumph on his face as he puts a hand against the wall. It’s like he’s bracing himself so I can ride his hand, and fuck me if that isn’t the hottest thing I’ve ever pictured, ever.

  He says nothing, though, simply dragging his fingers through my wet folds and stroking back and forth. He’s not hitting anything in particular, just coating his hand with my arousal and teasing me. Then, he looks me in the eyes. “Tell me who this belongs to, Faith.”

  “You.” I breathe the word, unable to hold back.

  “Tell me who it is that’s touching you,” Aron says casually, grazing a finger over my clit before stroking deeper. “Tell me who’s got their fingers deep in this soaked cunt. Tell me who’s spreading you wide.” And he does just that with his fingers, thrusting deep into my core before pulling out and dragging his spread fingers across my folds, pulling them apart.

  “You know it’s you, you son of a bitch,” I grit out, my hands fisted, my breath panting. I desperately want to cling to him…and I don’t want to give him the satisfaction. I feel weak, trembling, unmoored. Fragile. And I suspect this is all part of his game. He wants me to break down and hold onto him for support. He wants me to beg him to fuck me.

  And I don’t want to give him the satisfaction.

  “Are you going to come for me, Faith?” His hot eyes blaze into mine.

  I choke at his bold words. “N-no.”

  “Yes, you are,” he says firmly.

  “Fucking make me.”

  Oh god, please make me.

  He slaps my pussy, shocking me. It’s not that it hurts—just hard enough to sting—but it’s the shock of the contact and the spark that flies between us that somehow turns me on even more than before. “You know I own this,” Aron tells me. “It’s mine as surely as your life is mine. Mine to claim, day or night, anytime I want.”

  I moan.

  He gazes down at me. “Your nipples are hard, Faith. They’re just begging for my mouth, aren’t they?”

  Oh fuck, they are. I can feel how tight they are, how aching. When I look down, my nipples are clearly outlined against the fabric of my dress. I can also see Aron’s hand as he moves back and forth, stroking my pussy, his wet fingers sliding between my folds.

  And I whimper again.

  “No other man will ever touch this, will he, Faith?” Aron leans in, his lips grazing over mine again in another one of those almost-kisses. “No other man will come near this. Not because he knows I’ll murder him, but because it’s going to be clear to anyone that looks at you that this belongs to me and only me. All men will know that this pussy has been so thoroughly pleasured that I’ve ruined it for any other cock, any other hand. It comes for me and only for me.”

  He sinks a finger deep inside me, even as his thumb strokes my clit.

  “Mine and mine alone,” he growls.

  I detonate. It’s impossible, but I come so hard that I cry out, my hands fisted in the front of his tunic as he continues to rub my clit with his thumb, working his finger inside me as if determined to wring every last bit of pleasure from me. I’m panting like a bull ready to charge. And I’m coming so hard that I see stars. I sag against the wall, my legs weak, and Aron’s arm loops around my back, holding me up. His hand leaves my pussy and then I’m vaguely aware of him stroking my hair, holding me gently against his chest as I struggle to come back to earth from that universe-destroying orgasm.

  Soon enough, each touch of Aron’s hand in my hair becomes too much. The sparks he sends through me are too much to my overstimulated body, and I slowly slide out of his grasp, aware that his hand—and my body—smells of sex.

  “Satisfied now?” he asks, and he sounds so damn smug.

  “Mm.” I look at him, and there’s still heat blazing in his eyes. Still raging with need, with heat. I’m the only one that came, I realize. And I can take back a little bit of power—and okay, have some fun—if I make him come now, too. I reach for his belt, sliding my hand between his legs to cup his enormous, hard length. Oh god yeah, he’s hard as hell, straining against his pants as if they can barely contain him.

  Just as swiftly, Aron takes my wrist in his grip and pulls my hand away. “No.”

  That makes me pause. “What do you mean, no?”

  His eyes gleam. “Touching me wasn’t part of the deal, Faith. I’ll pleasure you if you insist on being a brat, though. And I’ll look forward to it.” The look he gives me is positively predatory.

  Somehow, I feel like I just lost even more ground in this battle of wills between us. I lift my chin. “There’s no deal, Aron. There was never a deal—”

  “You flirt with the others, I remind you that you are mine. That is the deal.”

  “I’m not sure I like this deal—”

  “You act like you have a choice,” he tells me in that arrogant voice of his, and then pushes back out of the room.

  Just like that, the conversation is done. And just like that, I can’t decide if I want to run after Aron and kiss him, or choke him.

  55

  Aron doesn’t come back into the room, so I guess we’re done. I fight back a blush—and irritation—as I move to a side table and give myself a quick bath to try to get rid of the sex smell. I adjust my clothing, fix my belt, and pace around the room until I’m sure my nipples won’t be taking out anyone’s eyes.

  When I feel mostly like myself again, I emerge from the room.

  Immediately, it feels like a mistake. Solat is by the door and does his best to pretend that I’m not here. Markos avoids eye contact, and Kerren’s face is tomato red. Vitar keeps clearing his throat. Only Yulenna seems calm, sewing in her seat, a tiny smile on her lips. I…guess we were louder than I thought. Oh man. I wonder if they heard Aron dirty talking to me? If they heard him slap my pussy and tell me that it belongs to him?

  Awkward.

  I take my seat next to Yulenna and pick up my sewing, but I can’t concentrate. I’m still all messed up from Aron’s claiming of me—because that’s what it was. I’m not sure how I’ll ever look Kerren or the others in the eye again.

  “Give them time,” Yulenna murmurs, picking out a stitch.

  It’s like she read my thoughts. “What?” I feign ignorance. “Time for what?”

  “They have considered you one of them,” she says easily. “Another soldier in Aron’s army, of a sort. Now they realize that you serve him in an entirely different way.”

  My cheeks get hot. I’m not sure if I’m offended at her “serving him” comments or if I’m baffled that it took Markos, Vitar, Kerren and Solat this long to figure out that Aron and I have a rather…tumultuous relationship. “And you? How do you feel about this?”

  She shrugs, biting her thread off. “He’s a god. He takes what he wants, women included.”

  And suddenly I’m no longer
feeling secure in my position. I no longer feel like Aron’s Faith, because I remember his other Aspect—the Aron of Lies—slept with Yulenna. A lot.

  “You don’t have to worry,” Yulenna says, and it’s like she’s reading my mind. “He’s never looked twice at me. For all that they’re Aspects of the same god, there are parts of them that are very, very different. This Aron sees no one but you.”

  “Because I’m his anchor,” I agree, and the thought doesn’t sit easily with me.

  “Mmm. Is that all it is?” Yulenna arches a brow at me.

  I have no answers. I stare at her for a moment longer and then pick up my sewing. At least if my hands are busy I can pretend to be focused.

  Right now, though, I can’t think of anything but Aron and his hands. Aron slapping my pussy and saying that it belongs to him. The heat in his eyes.

  The hard length of his cock under his clothing…and the way he pushed me away.

  We stay in Novoro for two more days after that, and during that time, I see very little of Aron. At first I think he’s avoiding me, but as Vitar and the others cycle through their guard duties, I realize that they’re spending time with Aron and the Novoran suppliers. I hear talk of mounts and blankets, tents and weapons. Food supplies. We’re preparing to leave, and I’m relieved.

  Relieved, and a little frustrated.

  After our torrid moment in my chamber, Aron’s only returned when I’m sleeping, and left before I woke each time. The only reason I know this is the vague realization as I sleep that someone’s next to me, and the indention of a large body in the blankets next to me when I wake. I know part of it is because he wants to “resist” me. It doesn’t mean my feelings aren’t hurt, though. Or that I don’t miss him.

  Because I miss Aron terribly. Even though he’s arrogant and a jerk and impossible, he’s my friend and my protector. He’s the only person I completely trust to have my back, and the only person I feel I can be completely open with.

  He’s mine as much as I’m his, and I miss him.

  I’m tired of being in this place, too. They’ve been monopolizing Aron and because he doesn’t want me around them, I’ve been confined to these rooms. Granted, they’re nice rooms, but I miss his company. So I’m more than ready to leave Novoro once and for all.

  Servants arrive with warm cloaks and tailors fit me for new, warm traveling clothing to go over the mountains. They confirm what I already know—the tournament is over and Aron has made it clear that it’s time for him to move on. After that, it’s a whirlwind of fittings and packings, and feasts for Aron as they celebrate him. Again.

  No wonder he wants to move on. He can’t get shit done around here because they want to party constantly.

  On the morning of the third day after my cataclysmic rendezvous with Aron, he returns to my rooms just as Yulenna and I are waking up and eating breakfast. He sweeps in, covered in a long, black cloak trimmed with white fur, a sword at his waist and studded armor on his chest. His long hair is pulled back into a tail, emphasizing the hard lines of his face and he looks so good I could eat him with a spoon.

  His gaze immediately sweeps past Yulenna as if she’s a gnat and focuses on me. “Faith.”

  “Hi,” I say around a piece of toast. “Are we leaving now?”

  Aron nods. “Dress warmly. There is a storm coming.” He eyes me again, and then adds, “Can you be ready to leave once you finish eating?”

  “Yup.” I get to my feet, licking my fingers. “I’ll have them pack up my breakfast. Come on, Yulenna.” I grab a new piece of toast and shove it in my mouth to eat while I dress. I’m glad—I’m more than ready to go.

  “My lord of Storms,” a familiar voice calls from the hallway. “I have heard rumor that you are leaving our keep? Surely not now, with a snowstorm on the horizon?”

  Irritation flashes across Aron’s features, and his jaw clenches. I recognize Lord Secuban’s voice an instant before he comes into my rooms. I get the impression Aron is equally tired of Lord Secuban, because I can see his face practically shutting down as the man moves to his side.

  “Did I invite you into my concubine’s private chambers?” Aron asks coldly, not looking over at Lord Secuban.

  Both Yulenna and I freeze at Aron’s dangerous tone of voice.

  “I apologize for the intrusion,” Secuban says, not moving from his spot at Aron’s side. He totally does not realize how in danger he is. I’ve seen Aron kill men in an eyeblink for less. “But I must speak to you. Stay in Novoro longer, my great lord. We will give you everything you need to ensure that you win your battle against the other Aspects.”

  Aron’s nostrils flare. “Not necessary.”

  “We have the strongest army in the mountains, my lord. No one can take this keep, and we are the sole path to the northern wastes. Here, you can defend for months. Years, if you must. And we will be your army.”

  “I am not interested in taking a defensive stance,” Aron tells him with a dismissive look. “It is better to take the battle to my enemies than to wait for them to approach.”

  Secuban nods slowly. “I understand. Such are your teachings. But, my lord, if you will not stay, allow me to send my army with you to protect you and your anchor. It would be the greatest of honors for Novoro.”

  Aron gives a dismissive snort. “I need no army. I am a god.”

  Secuban looks worried. “I have heard rumors that other gods are building armies, my lord. In Adassia—”

  “I am a god,” Aron states again, his tone brooking no argument.

  Secuban bows deep. “Of course. Forgive me if I overstepped.” But he looks concerned, and I realize he knows more than he’s letting on. If others are forming armies, shouldn’t we do that, too?

  I bite my lip and study Aron. As much as I don’t want to travel with an army, I also don’t want to die. But the look on Aron’s face tells me that no army is coming with us, regardless.

  And I’m reminded that in addition to being a god, Aron is the personification of arrogance. I hope it’s not arrogance that makes him want to set off without extra men.

  Really, really not a fan of dying, after all.

  56

  A short time later, we set off on our woales, heavily laden with supplies. Yulenna rides behind Solat, and I ride with Aron. It’s bitterly cold and despite the layers of clothing I’m wearing, I’m shivering within minutes. Snow falls in a relentless blanket as we head out the north gate of Novoro and onto the rocky mountain path. Ahead of us stretches a trail that leads into the mountains, and I can see far ahead…and there’s nothing to see. There’s only more mountains, more snow, and more forbidding landscape.

  It makes me wonder if we should have stayed in Novoro after all.

  But Aron takes a deep breath as the imposing Novoro citadel disappears, and he relaxes. I can’t help but laugh, and I poke him in the side. “Glad to be gone?”

  He glares at me from over his shoulder. “You have no idea how much that lord simpers and natters on, desperate to win approval.”

  “Oh, I can guess.” Aron hasn’t had a moment’s peace since we arrived at Novoro. “Are you sure you won’t miss the titty buffet?”

  “Titty…buffet?”

  “Yeah, the all-you-can-eat, all-the-pussy-you-can-stand parties he put on every night?”

  Aron snorts with amusement. “As if that would please me. A ‘titty buffet’ as you call it is unnecessary.”

  “Because you don’t eat?”

  “Because no tits hold my interest save yours.”

  And just because I like hearing that, I press them against his back.

  The snow grows thicker as the hours pass and the day steadily colder. No amount of layers keeps me warm and I’m shivering as I hold onto Aron. The woales seem utterly unaffected by the change in weather, plodding onward and chewing feed from ice-crusted feed bags. I look over at the other mortals in our group and see they’re all suffering as much as me. Yulenna’s teeth chatter constantly and her face is buried against Solat’s
cloak. The other men have their heads down, shoulders hunched as they lean into the wind and try to endure it.

  “Can we stop for the night?” I ask Aron when the sun goes down under the horizon. “I know a woale can go all night, but my ass quit about two hours ago. I need a fire and to get out of this wind before my nose freezes off my face.”

  He looks over his shoulder at me in irritation, but his expression softens as he gazes on my face. I must look really bad because he nods. “We’ll set up camp here.”

  “Here?” I ask, surprised. I look around and we’re still in the mountains, on the muddy, nasty path that winds between the rocks. It doesn’t look like any place I’d want to walk, much less spend the night. “In the middle of the road?”

  “We’re not going to be out of the mountains tonight,” Aron says, tugging on the reins of our woale. “This is as good a place as any.”

  “But it’s the middle of the road,” I protest. I guess I envisioned a nice copse of trees, a nearby creek, something more camp-like than just parking our asses here. We’re not even on an even slope.

  “You heard Novoro’s lord,” Markos calls out. “They are the only ones with access to the northern wastes. They will not let anyone through to threaten my lord Aron.”

  He’s got a point. And I do want to stop.

  “Don’t be so fussy, Faith,” Aron murmurs. “Would you rather go back to Novoro and endure another titty feast?”

  “It’s ‘buffet,’ and good point.”

  Aron helps me down, and then I huddle with Yulenna while the three soldiers make two tents—one for me and Aron, and one for the rest of them to huddle in. I know Yulenna won’t say a thing, but I don’t like the thought of her sleeping with the guys. I pull Yulenna close. “You’re sleeping with us tonight, all right?”

  “I would be honored to service you both,” she says, smiling at me.

  Erk. “In a purely non-sexual way. I just want you to sleep somewhere where you don’t have to worry about being groped.”