The Stone Warriors: Nicodemus

by D. B. Reynolds

  As a result, her speed was such that she had to pull up hard when she found him stopped in the middle of the road, no more than thirty paces ahead of her. The sweet mare rose on hind legs for a brief instant, but then was back on all four with nothing more than a shuddering blow of protest before remaining calm and still beneath Antonia.

  Nico turned when the mare’s hooves hit the dirt road, his expression a combination of concern and surprise. But it was Antonia who was truly taken by surprise, when she saw not Petros’s pleasant brown gaze, but Nico’s hazel-gold eyes looking back at her.

  “You dropped the seeming spell,” she said unnecessarily, and immediately flushed at the obvious observation.

  He grinned, and Nico’s usual confident, cocky expression was back. “I feared for a moment that you intended to trample me to death.”

  “Not yet,” she replied breezily. “I prefer to hold back that option until I’m certain of intent.”

  “And what do you believe to be my intent, Lady Antonia?”

  She walked the mare closer, then leaned across the distance between them and said in a low, sultry voice, “Seduction, Lord Nicodemus.”

  His eyes widened in surprise, and he laughed, but there was something more in those golden eyes. A clear purpose that took her teasing comment as an invitation . . . although she doubted Lord Nicodemus Katsaros ever bothered to wait for an invitation. He was a man who would take what he wanted, and ensure the woman loved every moment of the taking.

  Antonia had limited experience of seduction, and no encounters at all that she’d loved. “You look . . . better as yourself,” she told him.

  He gave her a courtly bow from the waist. “You’re too kind, my lady. Shall we ride? I hope to get well away from the estate before we stop for lunch.”

  “Lead on, my lord.”

  They rode the length of the narrow valley before winding through a thick forest to emerge on a grassy hillside overlooking a broad river valley below. Houses were clustered around an ancient-seeming fortress, and spilled outward until they occupied every part of the valley that Antonia could see.

  “What is this place?” she asked, surprised that she’d never come across it in her own wanderings.

  Nico didn’t answer immediately, but stared at the distant fortress for a long moment, before turning to study her before he spoke. “Those are the lands of King Jodokus Katsaros. My father.”

  Well, that explained his familiarity with the location, and probably her own ignorance, too, since her escorts would never have wanted to trespass on another king’s lands. “You’re close to your family?” she asked, assuming the answer would be yes.

  But Nico’s disgusted snort told another story. “Hardly. As the younger son, I was expected to lend my talents first to my father’s successful rule, and ultimately to my brother’s, as well. My own ambitions were meaningless.”

  “Truly? That’s rather shortsighted of him. Surely he would be better served by having such a powerful ally in his own son.”

  “He never saw it that way. Nor did my lady mother. I left at fourteen years, hungry to put my magic to use and discover my own future. We haven’t spoken since, beyond the occasional passing courtesy.”

  “Have they actively opposed you? Allied with your enemies?”

  “My father King Jodokus is far too shrewd to take it that far.”

  “He’s not too terribly shrewd if he disowned you. You could crush him like a bug.”

  Nico laughed. “You flatter me yet again, my lady. Come. There’s a pleasant picnicking spot not far from here. We can rest the horses while we eat, and discuss . . . seduction.”

  An unexpected thrill of excitement caught Antonia’s breath at his words. She wanted to be seduced by this man. But why this one, and not another? And how could she be so attracted to the one person that Sotiris hated with every shred of power he possessed. He would kill her if he ever found out she’d even been speaking to his enemy, much less that the speaking had become seduction.

  And still, she didn’t care.

  “I trust you brought lunch,” she told Nico archly. “I certainly didn’t.”

  He gave her that warm, knowing smile, as if he was already planning the best way to remove her clothes. “Trust me, my lady. I have it well in hand.” He swung his gelding around and proceeded along a game trail through the trees, clearly assuming she’d follow.

  Admiring his broad back and strong arms, seeing the dappled light turn the gold in his hair into flashes of the sun’s fire, Antonia sighed. She trusted him, but she also feared that what he planned to have well in hand before the day was over . . . was her.

  NICO STUDIED Antonia’s elegant profile as she lay with eyes closed on the blanket his cook had thoughtfully included with the picnic lunch she’d prepared. There’d been a speculative look in her eye when she’d handed over the leather bag—a look that invited a sharing of confidences. But he hadn’t accepted the offer. Antonia’s position was too precarious for him to tell anyone that he’d be sharing an intimate picnic in the woods with her. He didn’t know if Sotiris loved her, or if she was merely the by-product of a desirable alliance. But the bastard would be furious if he ever discovered they’d been having private conversations . . . or more. Nico knew that pursuing her was a mistake, that the consequences would be far worse for her than him. But he couldn’t simply drop it, couldn’t let her go about her life before he’d made her laugh again, before her mere presence sent additional streaks of heat arrowing straight to his heart, as they did every time she smiled. Before he’d tasted her plump lips and warm mouth, or held those full breasts in his hands. He closed his eyes, shutting out the sight of her, before he embarrassed them both with his growing reaction. He wanted this woman in a way he’d never wanted another. Wanted her warm and sated in his bed, not just for one night, but for . . . more. He couldn’t think beyond that, couldn’t name what his heart was telling him. He’d never before had such thoughts, and didn’t trust them now. She was lovely and intelligent, warm and enchanting, but with a wicked wit and a bold tongue. But how did he know if she wanted him, or whether she was intentionally seducing him for Sotiris? Or worse, whether the idea of seducing her was attractive to him, mostly because of her relationship to his enemy?

  “You’re staring, my lord,” she murmured, without opening her eyes.

  “I’d say rather that I’m admiring, Lady Antonia.”

  She chuckled. “Is this more of your seduction?”

  Nico regarded her for a moment longer, while his thoughts fought a battle between desire and reserve. The latter might have won if she hadn’t chosen that moment to remove her hat and do something with her hair that let the raven-black curls tumble past her shoulders.

  His groin tightened as if she’d stroked him with a delicate hand on his cock. Swallowing a groan of surrender, he stretched out deliberately close and pushed a few stray curls off one soft cheek. “What are we doing here, Antonia?” he whispered, needing to hear her reflect his own confused thoughts.

  A thick brush of black lashes lifted to reveal gray eyes staring back at him. She swallowed hard, and it was the first sign of true nerves she’d shown. “Nico?” That was all she said, but he didn’t need more. Leaning closer, he touched his mouth gently to hers. A brush of lips, a hint of warmth, while her fingers trembled against his cheek . . . Nico groaned and took her in his arms, feeling her breasts against his chest when he crushed her lips to his and forced his tongue between her teeth, where he swallowed her hungry, little moan.

  “Wait, wait!” It was a breathless cry while she gripped his shoulders with both hands.

  Nico pulled back, his heart thrumming with desire, his thoughts hazy with need. “Antonia?”

  “No. No,” she repeated, when he would have lifted completely away from her. Her grip on his shoulders tightened. “I needed . . . I needed to breathe.
”

  Her chest rose and fell against his when she drew several long breaths. “Your kisses are potent, my lord.”

  “If so, it’s the nectar of your lips that feeds them.”

  She laughed in delight. “Oh, you are far more charming than your reputation would have me believe.”

  “My reputation?”

  “Of course. All the fine ladies—old and young—are filled with lust when you walk into a room. Though I suspect the tales of seduction some have repeated are greatly exaggerated, or the product of restless dreams.”

  “And what of you, Antonia?” He said it lightly, but his gaze was serious as it bored into hers.

  Solemn gray eyes studied him a moment too long, before her lashes fell, and she spoke in a rush, as if unsure she could get the words out any other way. “I would keep any such tales of seduction close to my heart, where my most precious memories are forever stored.”

  “Antonia.” It was a fervent whisper, a plea for release from the terrible passion pulling them together, even as it begged her permission for him to take her right there on the blanket, with the sun glinting blue off her black hair, and the trees murmuring an invitation to use their shadows for concealment.

  Her only answer was another quiet moan when her arms tightened around his neck, and she pulled him down until he feared his weight would crush her. But that fear vanished when her lips met his in a bruising demand for more.

  Nico forced himself to go slowly, stroking his hand down her clothed body with deliberate care, lingering over the swell of her breasts, bound tightly beneath the crossed leather lapels of her long riding coat, but not so tightly that he couldn’t feel the weight of them, or the hard pebble of her nipples pushing for attention against the thick fabric. With a stifled groan, he buried his face in the warm curve of her jaw and inhaled the sweet scent of her skin and hair, enhanced now by the perfume of her arousal. His groan deepened with hunger as he kissed the delicate flesh behind her ear. He wanted to bite her, to mark her so every man would know she was taken. But that would be reckless beyond reason, though reason struggled to prevail when she cried out, not in pain, but desire, arching her back to push her breasts harder against his embrace, and scraping her nails through his hair to hold his mouth against her skin. It was almost as if she wanted him to bite her, to leave his claim on her.

  “Antonia,” he said harshly, forcing himself to lift his mouth from her neck, only to come down hard on her mouth, his tongue shoving between her teeth once more. “We should stop,” he murmured against her swollen lips. “We should—”

  Her response was immediate as she wrapped her legs around his hips, then pushed him onto his back and straddled him. She leaned down and breathed against his mouth, “I don’t want to stop.” And then sitting up, she put both hands to the ties on her shirt, swiftly undid the tight bodice, and freed her breasts to spill over the top of the leather in creamy swells of temptation.

  Nico had forced himself to stop once, but he didn’t have it in him to do it again, not when she arched her back allowing two rosy nipples to peek over the loose bodice. “Damn it, woman.” Not a man to ever assume the submissive role, he rolled her beneath him and filled his mouth with one breast, sucking until her nipple was plump against his tongue, and then bit down on the delicious nub until she cried out in such surprised pleasure-pain, that he knew no man had ever pleased her that way. He growled deep in his chest with satisfaction at that, wanting to be the first to bring her many such erotic delights . . . the first and the last. His feelings went beyond simple lust or desire—with every breath, he was more convinced that Antonia was meant to be his. Not for a day or a month, but forever, and damn the consequences. His thoughts were tumbling as his mind tried to remind him of the danger in seeking to make truth of that desire. But his body didn’t care. He wanted Antonia, and he was going to have her.

  He knew he shouldn’t take her like this, on the ground in the forest, where someone could easily happen by and see their indiscretion. But he needed more, needed to touch every inch of her silky skin, to taste her pussy, not just on his fingers, but with his tongue inside her, licking the juices of her opening as her body begged for his cock.

  Squeezing one firm thigh, he spread her leather-clad legs and slid his hand between them, pressing hard enough that he could feel the heat of her sex as he rubbed back and forth, until she gave a surprised gasp of pleasure and cried his name, “Nico, please.”

  “Please what, my lady? What do you want?”

  She sobbed a breath and said, “I want it all.”

  Growling every curse he knew, Nico struggled with the closure of her leather pants. He’d never encountered pants on a woman before, other than undergarments. He’d never had to break any ties except flimsy fabric or ribbons. His own breeches were in danger of ripping open from the pressure of his cock, which was straining to the point of pain in his need to slide into Antonia’s body.

  Forcing himself to slow down, to control the hunger raging in his blood, he breathed deeply, but only succeeded in driving his need higher when the scent of her filled his nostrils and drifted to settle in his throat. He went a little crazy then, tearing open the ties on her pants, using both hands to shimmy them down her legs before he was truly aware of what he was doing. He was kissing the smooth skin of her abdomen, nipping impatiently with his teeth at the delicate fabric of her underwear, not caring if they remained whole. He wanted her naked to his eyes, his mouth, his tongue . . . his cock.

  He groaned when her pussy was finally bare and the full scent of her assaulted his senses. Unable to stop, he shoved her pants down until he could spread her thighs enough to glide his tongue into her slit and taste the lushness of her arousal. His probing tongue found the tight nub of her sex, and he licked it hard, eliciting a shocked cry from Antonia.

  “Yes. Nico, yes!”

  Lifting his head once more, Nico tugged her boot from one foot and all but tore her pants leg down and off, giving him room to spread her thighs and delve into her delicious pussy. He used his thumbs to open her sex wide to his every sense. Her folds were swollen with desire, her opening creamy and welcoming when he slid first one finger, and then two inside her. He might have stopped then, if she’d begged him. Might have brought her to climax with his fingers and settled for her hand on his cock, but his thumb scraped the hard pearl of her sex and she climaxed without warning, her inner muscles slamming down hard on the fingers he was sliding in and out, and her thighs clamping viciously around his shoulders while she slapped a hand over her mouth to muffle her screams.

  Swamped by a desperate need to have her, he tore his own pants open and freed his cock. Then bending her naked leg at the knee, he shoved it high against his shoulder and slammed his cock deep into her body. Her startled gasp was lost to his senses as he absorbed the sheer heat of her pussy, the satiny slick wetness when her muscles flexed and drew him ever deeper, surrounding him like a scalding silk glove. Wanting more, he pulled out and immediately shoved back in, the friction of his thick penis on her tight sheath increasing the heat of her until he thought their bodies would burn each other up. But still her delicate muscles urged him deeper, caressing the length of him, squeezing his thickness, driving him forward until he could go no farther, until the tip of his cock touched her firm inner border and his balls slapped hard against her perfect ass.

  And then he was moving, driven to fuck her harder and harder, desperate to spill his seed inside her, to brand her inside as he dared not mark her breast. And as he thrust deeper and faster, Antonia gripped his shoulders, her soft cries of pleasure warm against his cheek, becoming groans when he shoved into the secret warmth of her body, protesting when he withdrew. With every cry, he grew more frantic, needing to release the heat that was boiling in his groin like a volcano waiting to blow. And when her pussy suddenly clamped around him like a vise, when her screams of pleasure pierced his ears with th
eir intensity, his own climax exploded inside her, so quick and with so much force that his cock bucked and throbbed for what seemed like eternity until it finally lay sated within her trembling sheath.

  Nico lay still for several minutes, too stunned to move. He was aware of their hearts pounding in time with each other, the sound so loud that it filled his ears, until Antonia’s soft sobs made every other noise disappear. Her face was pressed to his shoulder, her whimpers muffled as she held him tightly. Cursing to himself at the idea that he’d hurt her, maybe crushing her with his weight, Nico rolled to one side and cradled her in his arms. Tears wet her cheeks, and her eyes were swollen and red when she glanced up at him.

  “Did I hurt you, my love? I’m sorry.” He brushed away the moisture on her face, and when she shook her head, he asked, “What then?”

  “I never—” She swallowed another sob. “It’s never been like that before. I’ve never felt . . .” Her words were interrupted by another soft cry.

  Nico wanted to deny what she was saying, at least to himself. Wanted to ask what she meant, because while he prided himself on his ability to please his lovers, there was nothing special about what he’d done. But the words wouldn’t come. He knew exactly what she meant, because he’d felt it, too.

  “What are we going to do?” she asked in a small, desperate voice.

  “I don’t know, love. The blood’s all left my head and I can’t think just now,” he added in a poor attempt at lightening the mood. He sighed and hugged her more tightly. “I don’t know, but we’ll figure it out. We’ll be all right.”