Captive Dreams

by Angela Knight

  Corinne purred happily and repeated the caress on the other nipple, with equally gratifying results. “Very nice indeed.”

  She threaded her fingers through the braids. They tugged lightly on the sensitive webbing between her fingers, a most intriguing sensation. She lifted a strand to her nose and inhaled the spicy, musky odor of him.

  Corinne ran her hand up his shoulder from his nipple, savoring how his breath caught at the simple caress. But what did he look like from the other side? She’d never really studied his ass, which should be a magnificent sight.

  She walked around him, trailing her hand over his arm to his shoulder blade, then stopped to stare at the view. Gorgeous. In fact, absolutely fabulous with that hard compact ass above two strong pillars of leg and below a cascade of fiery hair that any Paris model would have killed for. She kissed his back, nuzzling between the braids until she found bare skin. Hot and sweaty skin, too.

  Corinne peeled off her robe, desperate to feel as much of him as she could, and tossed it aside. Then she rubbed herself against his back like a cat, letting her hip and arm and shoulder and head ride up and down his spine, curving around his buttocks on the way down and nestling her cheek between his shoulder blades at the summit.

  “Yummy,” she murmured and did it again. She thought he moaned when her hair rippled over his ass on the way up but, frankly, she wasn’t paying much attention. She was far too busy enjoying the play of skin against skin in a very feline fashion.

  She stopped finally and rested her head against his back, trying to recover some shred of self-control. Her breasts were tight and aching, while her cunt itched with the need to hold him again. She wrapped her arms around him so that her hands could smooth the inside of his thighs, while her breasts nuzzled his back.

  “You’re shaking,” she observed softly. “Are you afraid of me? Or just sexually aroused?”

  “Dammit, Corinne, why do you ask me such things?”

  She kissed his back until he relaxed. “I’m an author so I’m always curious. To put it another way, was the Gray Sorceress so dreadful that she scared you away from all sorceresses?”

  “Yes.” His voice was scarcely any louder than the ripples in the pool. Corinne flinched guiltily as she realized how much pain she’d caused this man.

  “But she doesn’t matter now.” He grabbed her hands and wrapped them around his cock. “This does.”

  Corinne jumped and involuntarily tightened her grip on him. He groaned and arched into her hold. “Yes, like that!” he growled and thrust again.

  “Mykh!” Her hands curled to hold him, all the hot, hard length of him filling her hands with motion and power. His hips rocked back and forth between her belly and her hands, sending shockwaves through her body until she could barely stand. Her hips matched his rhythm, while her thighs clenched in eagerness.

  He stopped suddenly and broke away from her. Corinne stared at him, dazed. Her eyes dropped and found his cock rising enormous and urgent. She licked her lips.

  “By the gods, you are bewitching,” he growled. “But I made a promise and will keep it.” Suddenly he dropped onto the bed, stretching himself in invitation. “Take me fast and hard, woman, if you dare.”

  She shook her head, trying to recover herself.

  “Dammit, Corinne,” he roared. “Finish this!”

  Corinne knelt astride his waist on unsteady legs and took a deep breath. He shuddered with every breath, making his abs press against her thighs. It built her need for him rather than helping her concentration.

  Desperate, she seized his cock with one hand and hurled herself down on it, sheathing him in a single stroke. He flexed inside her and his hips rose up to meet her.

  “Corinne,” he gasped. His golden eyes flew wide open to watch her. “Corinne,” he demanded again. “Dammit. Hurry.”

  “Yes.” She lifted up and swooped down on him again, moaning as he filled her. That magnificent cock of his caressed her aching clit with every stroke, so she repeated the movement. His hips lifted as he pushed himself into her harder and harder. She rode him strongly, groaning when his cock thrust toward her heart. The pace of their lovemaking grew faster and more frantic as she drove them both onward.

  Then climax burst through her, setting off fireworks behind her eyes while freight trains roared through her blood and bones. She keened her pleasure, only distantly conscious of his roars as he poured himself into her.

  Afterwards she lay sprawled across him, enjoying the feel of all that delicious masculine strength and heat. Her head lay pillowed on his chest and her hair whispered with every breath he took. His big hand rubbed her back idly, making her eyelids almost too heavy to lift.

  She was exhausted but she needed to say this while she had the courage.

  “I’m sorry,” she said finally.

  “For what?”

  She turned her head to look at him. Tears trickled down her cheeks and through her voice. “For having the ice serpent bite you. I shouldn’t have done that and I’m so sorry it happened.”

  She managed to meet his eyes as he studied her. Finally he nodded and kissed her lightly on the mouth. “You are forgiven. Besides, you stopped her from killing me a hundred times.”

  “The Gray Sorceress? That was easy,” she disclaimed.

  “Easy? For you, perhaps, but no one else in Torhtremer.”

  She sniffled inelegantly as she tried to smile, then laid her head back down.

  “Can you play me like a fish, as you did her?”

  Corinne’s head shot up. “Oh no! You have always been the most obstinate, impossible character in the world to write! You’ve always gone your own way, doing your own thing.” She snorted at the memory of how often she’d cursed his uncooperative hide, while she was on deadline to finish a book.

  “Good,” he purred, sounding very well pleased. Then he asked more sharply, “Is there anyone else you can’t twist?”

  “The Dark Warrior,” Corinne admitted, biting her lip. “I can see what he’s doing most of the time. But I can’t make him do anything and I’ve no idea why he does a lot of things.”

  “Damn. Ah well, the gods must play their little games so it’s unlikely they’d let us rig the results.” His next question caught her completely off-guard. “Why did you do it?”

  She didn’t pretend to misunderstand as she cringed. Writer’s convenience was not good cause to emasculate a warrior. She gave him the truth with an effort. “I was afraid that you’d get some girl pregnant right away and marry her, before I could find your true love. So I bought time with the ice serpent.” She finished her apology in a rush. “I didn’t know then that it would be this bad.”

  “An honest reason,” he rumbled.

  He sounded pleased somehow, but Corinne could only find the energy for relief that he wasn’t angry. Sleep claimed her before she could find something more to say.

  FIVE

  Mykh lay in the great bed, listening to Corinne sleep. Above him, the four silver pillars at the bed’s corners met in a silver and gold canopy resembling an orchard, with blossoms, leaves, and fruit seeming almost real in dawn’s first light. Almost as real as the sight of Corinne rising over him, her blue eyes blazing and head thrown back in ecstasy, while her sheath gloved him hot and close. The memory of her nectar pouring over him washed away the last traces of the Gray Sorceress’s evil from his body, if not his mind.

  Corinne slept as she did everything else, totally abandoned to the moment: one arm flung over his chest and her face buried against his ribs. Her silver hair tickled him with every breath he took, while her warm breath comforted his heart.

  He shifted slightly to adjust a strand of hair teasing his nipple. She stirred, grumbled . . . and tightened her grip on him. He went quite still at the touch.

  His little sorceress was possessive of him. Had always been, else why would she have sabotaged so many proposed alliances with foreign princesses? Or with the daughters of great nobles, whose fathers had promised armies to help hi
m take the throne if he’d only marry their child? To say nothing of the concubines who’d developed unsightly rashes or twisted ankles at inopportune times, which kept them from his furs before they could intrigue him.

  Possessive enough that she’d finally set the great ice serpent on him, rather than lose him to a female she couldn’t control. He would have killed her for that once, done so slowly and with great relish. Now he found himself oddly warmed by the thought of how fiercely she’d fight for him, no matter what the cost.

  She mumbled again, the sound felt more than heard. He kissed the top of her head and she wriggled. Almost time for her to wake up and start the second day of the Hunter’s Watch.

  Perhaps Khyber was correct and she could heal the harm she’d caused. Mykh had never heard of such a thing, either from the bards or the ancient scrolls he enjoyed in his rare private moments. But even if Khyber was wrong for the first time in a very long life, it wouldn’t come amiss to teach her the other skills of the Dragonheart’s Companion. They were highly enjoyable in the bedroom, whether or not they helped her master the Advent of the White Horses.

  Mykh leaned up on one elbow and gently uncovered her face from its veil of silvery hair. He kissed her forehead lightly and nuzzled her cheeks, waking her slowly. His unruly mane, long since freed of its formal braids, fell around them like a curtain.

  Corinne began to return his kiss before she was fully awake. He hummed approval of her willingness and tickled her ribs.

  “Whazzat?” she mumbled as her eyes opened. An odd word but he understood perfectly.

  “Good morning,” he whispered into her ear, then licked her earlobe delicately.

  “What are you up to now?” she inquired, sounding more intrigued than irritated.

  “Playing,” he answered and tickled her again.

  She squirmed and giggled. “Just playing?”

  “Fun playing,” he clarified and chuckled when her fingers teased his ribs.

  “Which means that you’re going to wind up between my legs again,” Corinne said dryly.

  “Perchance.”

  Corinne snorted. “You’re going to have to try harder than that, big boy, if you want me to believe that you’re not interested in nookie.” She jumped and laughed at another tickle.

  “We should practice our lessons before tomorrow,” Mykh announced a little breathlessly. Her slender fingers were frolicking with his balls, without once touching his rod directly.

  “Lessons? I’m not interested in schoolwork,” Corinne pronounced, a lofty effect spoiled by her gasp when he tweaked one of her plump nipples. “But then again,” she sighed as his tongue teased her breast, “a little homework never hurt anyone.”

  “Hmmm,” Mykh agreed. She sent the most amazing dances down his spine when she took his head close and played with his hair, giving a scalp massage like no other. He did his best to return the favor, kneading her breast lightly along the paths she favored. After taking the time to ensure that both nipples stood as firm and proud as fireberries, he sat up reluctantly.

  Corinne opened first one eye and then the other. “I was never much good at homework,” she remarked. “Perhaps we should go back to what you were just doing.”

  Mykh laughed at her request. “These lessons are very simple. You only have to breathe.”

  “I do that all the time,” she protested. “What’s to practice?”

  “It is how we will absorb the land’s energy tomorrow, by circling it through our bodies like clouds of incense through a temple. Or so the priests say.” He stroked her thigh, enjoying the satiny skin above strong muscle.

  Corinne cocked her head while she considered his words. Her hand glided idly up and down his arm, sending prickles of awareness through his skin. “It sounds like some of my sifu’s lessons for gathering and projecting ch’i.”

  “Aye, it’s close to some of my arms training as well. But . . .”

  “There’s always a but,” Corinne grumbled, sotto voce.

  He raised an eyebrow at the interruption but finished. “We pass the energy back and forth between us.”

  “By breathing?” Corinne queried.

  “And where we are one in body as well.” His heart skipped a beat at how long he would be inside her.

  “Ah, I knew there was some nookie involved!” Corinne laughed. She tucked her hand over his thigh, one slender finger not quite touching his balls. “So how do we start?”

  “More playtime first, until we are one.”

  “Yummy,” Corinne purred and slid her hand up his chest. Mykh laughed a little hoarsely and bent his head to hers again. Her delicate skin glowed under his touch, blushes showing where she’d caught fire from his passion. He encouraged her with mouth and fingers, chuckling when she arched off the bed and rumbling with pleasure at her sighs.

  He played with her woman’s portal, strumming the little bud and painting her lower lips with her nectar. One climax, then another swelled through her.

  “I don’t know about homework,” Corinne groaned as he slipped three fingers inside to stretch her, “but I’m definitely fond of playtime.”

  Mykh mumbled agreement. He’d have agreed to almost anything then, while she rippled and pulsed around him. His rod’s eagerness was an insistent voice but one to be ignored for the present.

  He lay down on his side and lifted Corinne’s leg over his hip, then guided his rod to her portal. A supple twist of his hips and he entered her.

  “Damn, Mykh, that’s inventive!” Corinne gasped. She wriggled slightly but her spine rested flat and comfortable on the bed.

  “An ancient practice,” he disclaimed, pleased nonetheless at her appreciation. He slid her other leg between his thighs, then rested his hand over her lower belly. His thumb delved and played with her bud lightly. He groaned softly when another climax rippled through her, his rod alive to her slightest pulse.

  “Okay, I can get used to doing homework like this,” Corinne announced a little breathlessly. “What now?”

  “We must learn to breathe as one,” Mykh answered raggedly, “then move as one.”

  “Of course,” she agreed dubiously.

  He kissed her hand and played with it until she giggled and relaxed her touch. Their hands glided and swooped as they learned to work together in this simple fashion.

  “Breathe in when I breathe out,” Mykh said softly, watching the sunlight gild their fingers.

  Corinne promptly exhaled as he breathed out. She broke out laughing but didn’t let go of his hand. Nor move away from where his rod flexed within her. “Sorry!” she gasped. “I’ll do better next time.” And she did.

  When their chests rose and fell in unison, Mykh took the next step. “Now send the energy through your body. Down to your woman’s portal and up to . . .”

  He broke off as she rolled to face him while keeping her hips flat on the bed. His rod swelled at her womb’s spiraling caress. “By the Horned Goddess, woman!” he growled, fighting to keep their breathing in rhythm. He had no words, only groans, when she returned to her prior position and her sheath screwed him in a different direction.

  Her blue eyes danced wickedly. “You were saying?” she prompted demurely. “Perhaps the energy should come up to my head?”

  “Exactly.” Mykh took a more relaxed breath when her gaze turned inward. He reached inside himself to find his own meridians, then sent his ch’i down to his rod and back up to his head. He welcomed its warmth, especially against the chill at the base of his spine where his seed should have been forming. “Lovely,” Corinne murmured, wriggling closer to him and resting her hand on his above her bud. “Lovely way to do homework.”

  “Aye,” Mykh murmured and began to rock against her, chuckling as different tempos caught her off-balance and groaning when she quickly matched him. By the gods, she caught his rhythm faster than any other woman ever had. Even the temple priestess who’d trained him hadn’t been as smooth, and she’d known hundreds of partners.

  Ecstasy built in his gr
oin and through his rod with every breath, like a campfire on a winter’s night. His balls tucked up hard against him, trying to get closer to the ch’i’s warmth. But just as if he was standing at that campsite, he felt no urgency, only a steady growth of intensity.

  “Do you want to come first? Or should I?” Corinne asked, twisting from one side to the other gently.

  “Whenever you wish,” he murmured, sliding into that realm proclaimed by the priestesses where the woman’s pleasure was the source of life.

  “Then I’m coming now,” she said emphatically. “Ah, Mykh!” Her sheath fluttered and caressed his rod as she climaxed. He permitted himself a small climax, releasing his muscles but not his seed. Practice of this sort was necessary, that he might control himself for as long as tomorrow’s ceremonies would demand.

  She raised her head slowly from where it had fallen back in rapture. One blue eye blinked, causing the other to open so both could start focusing. He flexed inside her, setting his continuing hardness against her swollen flesh.

  “Hot damn,” she moaned as sweet pulses traveled through her. He smiled broadly, feeling her pleasure warm him to the bone. Then he set himself to see how many times he could trigger her ecstasy before a finger’s breadth of his cock left her feminine caverns. He allowed more of the little raptures to travel his body. But he denied himself full release, that he might remain hard and capable of drawing shudders of delight from her.

  At last she groaned against his shoulder. “Mykh, please . . . Oh God, if you don’t stop . . .”

  He circled his hips and her head swayed as she climaxed again.

  “Mykh.” Her voice was a bare thread. “If this is about my pleasure, then I want you now.”

  He tilted his head back until he could see her face. She blinked until she could meet his gaze. She was dazed and breathless but clearly determined.

  “Mykh, next time . . . Damn, I can’t believe there’s a man that I can expect another time like this with.” She stopped, blushing. He kissed her forehead, smiling.