by Suz deMello
Maersan appeared at my side with two brawny Darkside warriors who led a brace of taqqa. “Worry not, my queen,” he said stoutly, his words a weird echo of his elder brother’s. “Prince Storne is a tough one.”
Now steadied, Storne wrapped and twisted the rope so that the trapped taqqa was bundled and entwined from its hump, along its neck, over its horns and even unto its head. He tossed the loose end of the rope back to shore. The warriors fastened the rope to the hoist and then to the traces of the shorebound beasts before mounting them. They shouted, kicked, spurred and whipped the brace of taqqa until they had pulled their fellow, now choking in protest, out of the quagmire.
The creature emerged with a great sucking sound, evidence of the quicksand’s unwillingness to release its victim. Finding its footing, it staggered a few steps onto the shore and collapsed. Storne, who had ridden in on its hump, leaped onto firm ground as it rolled over with an exhausted belch.
He was covered with ochre mud and green algae. He stank of taqqa and swamp. His hair hung in filthy wisps over his grubby face. He’d lost his tunic in the mire, and his naked torso bore scrapes and bruises and, I feared, more than one broken rib.
The Prince of Darkness had risked everything for a cargo beast. Was this courage, foolishness or compassion?
Whatever it was, I loved him for it.
* * * * *
Despite Storne’s heroism, our situation was difficult. There were few firm trails through the marshes, and even fewer places to safely camp. We pitched our tents or laid out bedrolls at the foot of the few trees that survived the violent storms, for their root systems held soil securely.
That night, raising our tents was impossible due to stormwind and mud, so Parron and Rall tied ropes to the meager trees to suspend hammocks where they could. I eschewed my usual night garb for Lightsider-style robes, in case my hammock was overturned by a cyclone.
Even after all three moons had set, the night was not dark or even shadowed, for the brightness of nearby Lightside provided a constant glow. Marsh-gases weirdly lit the twilight with a greenish, stinking glimmer. I was not used to the peculiar light and the warmth, so my sleep was fitful and my dreams troubled. I could hear others, suspended in their hammocks among the trees, snoring and sighing or, if they were lovemaking, moaning with delight.
I raised myself with an elbow and looked around, with one hand caressing my pussy. Unfortunately no one else was close enough for me to watch. I dropped back into my hammock with a frustrated sigh.
Storne slipped into my hammock as I tossed and turned. He had found some water in which to wash, for when he lifted my tunic, his body felt cool and pleasant against my heated, sultry skin.
I sighed into his neck. “I fear I will not survive this foray into Light.”
“Ah. Does this mean…” He slid smooth fingers beneath my trousers to find my pussy and played with the humid flesh.
I purred with pleasure. “No decision yet, at least not officially.”
“Which means no decision.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Perhaps I can persuade you.” Taking my wrists, he pinned them above my head and pushed them into the hammock’s rope mesh, trapping me.
I tensed. Although I believed I could trust Storne, I couldn’t stop the nervous flutters in my belly. I occasionally allowed myself to be dominated by Rall and Parron as a change from the norm and because their loyalty was absolute. Each would give his life for me…and neither had ever dared to bind me.
And Storne wanted the throne, wanted his blood and bone to rule even after our deaths, or so I surmised. He did not hesitate to kill in order to win. What stopped him from taking me against my will?
For my will was strong. Learning that people I trusted, most likely Frayn and Kloutt, had plotted to kill my family—and had succeeded—had strengthened my resolve to carefully consider my choice.
Impregnating me would assure Storne of the throne, but I did not wish to share power. And I had become unsure of my ability to judge character. I had been wrong about Frayn and Kloutt. My parents had also been misled. Why should I be able to make the correct choice?
And the correct choice was crucial to the fate of the Shadowlands and all of Janus.
My worries must have showed, for Storne asked, “What’s wrong, Audryn?” He slid his fingers out of my pussy and laid his hand on my belly. His gray eyes were steady, his gaze fixed on my face.
I breathed deeply. “I want you, but—”
“I won’t take advantage of the situation.”
I sighed. “I hope you are not insulted.”
His brows rose. “Your decision is momentous and final. I can afford to wait.” Smug, his voice oozed confidence.
“You are sure you are the best candidate.”
“Yes.” He leaned closer and purred against my ear, “I’m bigger, stronger, tougher and I don’t look like your great-grandpa.”
I giggled.
He chuckled, a deep, sexy growl, and bit my lobe. His fingers again busied themselves inside my pussy.
I tested my bonds, curling my fingers around the hammock’s cords. They held my wrists fast. “I, uh, er…”
“Parron told me you might like this.” His voice was low and seductive. If he had been any man other than Darkness’ Prince, I would have believed that he cared for nothing other than having me.
But this was Storne.
I bridled. “You and Parron have gossiped about me?”
He rolled off the hammock, which rocked back and forth, then spread my legs and shoved my bare feet into the mesh. “Who else would we talk about?” He returned to the hammock, lying on top of me. The hammock swayed, and he nuzzled my neck.
I refused to be distracted. “It is not appropriate for you to discuss such intimate matters,” I said stiffly. “Politics, perhaps, but my sex life—”
“Shadowlanders indulge in public sex,” Storne pointed out. “Everyone knows what you like.”
“True.” I tried to let my trussed body relax beneath Storne’s, but my heart hammered against my ribs.
He caressed my left breast, and I sucked in a frantic breath.
“And he has never discussed Shadowland politics with me without your leave.” He shifted, the hammock swung and I felt his rod push against my mons, shooting jabs of need through me.
“A fine idea, this,” he said. He stuck a foot out of the hammock and kicked the ground. The hammock swayed anew and we rocked together. “I hardly have to do anything.”
Damn him. How could he remain so calm?
If he were cool, I could be also. “So he is not your spy?” I managed to ask.
“Parron and Rall are your men all the way. They know I have your best interests at heart.” He eased down my body and tugged off my trousers so he could kiss my pussy.
I lifted my hips and his tongue pushed against my clit. “Umm, tasty,” he murmured. “Your flavor is richer here, with the heat.”
Around me, I heard other lovers panting and groaning. The sounds of their passion filled my ears. My moans mingled with theirs… I decided I did not care if Storne was calm or even if he was not the right man to occupy the throne.
I tried to open my thighs more so he could kiss me more deeply, but my feet were thoroughly entangled in the rope mesh to the ankles, and my wrists were likewise entwined. I was well and truly trapped and this bondage was a new experience.
Did I like this or not? I tested my bonds again while Storne’s tongue stroked my pussy. Was it my fancy or did my entrapment heighten the pleasure? I could not touch him, caress him, but could only receive, only enjoy.
I could focus entirely on my passion without worrying about his.
I relaxed as I realized my helplessness in the face of his sensual onslaught.
He parted my labia with his thumbs and sucked my clitoris. Tremors seized me. I cried out in sheer delight, my body twisting as arousal tore through me. He slid up my body, rubbing against me. I could feel the curls on his chest abrade
my thighs, my mound, my belly and my breasts before he again lay atop me, his weight pressing me into the ropes, his cock pressing against my clit. I squirmed against him, whimpering.
“Do you like this?” He nipped my earlobe.
I hissed in a breath. “By the three moons, yes, I do.”
“I could do whatever I want to you. Now.” He bit my neck, and another charge of desire ripped through me.
I bucked against him. His cock rested against my slot. He was almost inside me. I gasped in another breath. “But-but you won’t.”
“No, not until you ask for it.”
“I want to come.”
He kissed me, his tongue forcing its way inside, a deliberate assault on my mouth. He thrust in and out, fucking me with his tongue, a blatant signal of what he planned to do to my cunt very soon.
I bucked my hips against his and his knob rubbed against my clit, then slipped inside. For one glorious stroke, he pierced me to the core.
I came hard and fast, screaming his name.
He jerked out and spurted onto my belly, breathing in hard pants. His grip was hard, his unknowing fingers plowing into my flesh until he relaxed, his muscles loosening. “Ah, Audryn, you are such a temptation…”
We lay together, quivering, and he reached up to release my wrists, then my ankles. I happily curled around him, finally enjoying the sultriness of the strange, bright night, our combined sex sweat sticking our bodies together so delightfully, the musky odors of our loving.
Chapter Twelve
Despite the pleasures of the night, our journey continued arduous. I had not thought that the experience could grow any more unpleasant, but as we advanced through the WestMarches, matters went from bad to worse, as the Progenitors would have put it. We had left Shadow, left my realm for the disputed lands, the Marches dividing us from the DesertDwellers. Every day grew lighter, brighter, hotter.
Less water flowed, which was an improvement because the treacherous swamps disappeared. But as we traveled eastward toward Lightside, the very air heated, engendering dry storms and wind.
The land was flat, affording no cover from the cyclones. We were fortunate to evade them but they were visible and threatening, gray funnels rising from the dry, dusty land into the sky, which had become a strange, bright blue color.
Kaldir and his folk were the only ones among us who appeared to take pleasure in the heat and dust, the winds and sun. The DesertDwellers and their lord seemed to draw energy from the stifling environment.
But he spared no resource to see to my comfort. A caravan of DesertDweller traders approached, from which Kaldir purchased iced sweets and feathered fans, presenting them to me that evening. Maia had bathed and shaved me and I lay naked and panting in my tent, my only garb the ruby that lay at my throat.
When Kaldir entered, his loose white robes swirled around him, reminding me of the desert wind. The breeze they created cooled my skin and I purred with pleasure.
“I have not seen you much lately.” I extended a hand to him.
Taking it, he kissed my fingers. “The closer I come to my realm the more often affairs of state seize my attention. I am sorry if I have neglected you, queen of my heart.”
Pretty words, I thought, but what political matter could be more important than Shadow’s throne? He needed to order his priorities if he wanted to rule effectively. No wise king allowed minutiae to distract him. “What matters draw your attention, Kaldir?”
“Your impending visit, of course, and that of your retinue and of the Darksiders. It is a tremendous logistical challenge, importing water and food enough for an extended stay by so many people.”
“I am sorry you are inconvenienced.” I sat up. “I can arrange for—”
“Oh no, no.” He waved off my concern. “We can manage it, of course. But you may know the old Progenitor saying, when the cat’s away—”
“The mice will play,” I finished for him. “Yes, I worry about what is happening in my realm also, in my absence.”
“Your team seemed to be most competent and loyal. Frayn, especially, seems, um…how shall I put it?” His large brown eyes twinkled with amusement. “Eager, even ambitious.”
“Yes, and I am sure you know why.”
“You sent him away. Why was that?”
I did not want to discuss the mystery surrounding my family’s deaths. I did not even wish to think about it. “He had to placate the Northerners. They were complaining about taxation without a royal visitation. Well, they will get their visit.”
“Yes, I understand you plan to travel northward through the desert and then re-enter Shadow. I must advise you against such a route. The searing heat of the desert precludes travel through it, and the Marches are also treacherous. There’s no water in the equatorial desert, only a dried ocean.”
“A dried ocean? That which the DesertDwellers call the Former Sea?”
“Yes. We believe that before the Progenitors stopped Janus from spinning, there was water all over the planet. After Janus stilled, over time, the rivers, lakes and seas of Darkside froze into glaciers. Lightside’s water dried and there are few natural springs to supply our needs.” He cast a jealous look in my direction. “The usable water on Janus is in the Shadowlands, as you know.”
“It is a resource we are pleased to share,” I said, hoping I didn’t sound defensive. I stood and wrapped a robe around my body. The silken yellow fabric covered me to my knees. “I often plan for ways to meet the needs of all Janusians, not only my citizens.”
“In any event, few have crossed the Former Sea and survived. In a way, you have encountered it. Its remnants feed the vast swamps and mires of WestMarch.”
“So we must return the way we came,” I said.
“You seem upset by the idea. Why? Windrush is a pleasant home.”
I paced, wondering how much to tell Kaldir. “I am disquieted by Windrush and Catura.”
“Yes, you have seemed unhappy lately.” He peered closely at me. “I had wondered if I’d done something to bother you since we haven’t seen much of each other lately.”
“No, it’s not you.” I hesitated, then plowed ahead. I did not want to speak of my growing attachment to Storne. “My family died at Catura and questions have arisen about their passing.”
Kaldir’s brows lifted. “Oh. You suspect treachery? Lord Frayn?”
I turned, startled by the swiftness of his mind.
“He clearly wants the throne but you sent him away after your visit to the lake.”
“Your spies are correct.” I rubbed my bare arms, uneasy.
“There’s an old Terran saying…uneasy lies the head that wears the crown.”
I emitted a snort of laughter, abandoning decorum. “That is certainly the truth.”
Kaldir’s glance was keen. “You won’t offend me if your visit to the desert is brief.”
“I wish it need not be so, but we must make all haste.”
“Don’t worry about it.” He waved away my concern. “I have received messages and gifts.”
He went to the opening of my tent and gestured to admit a thin, dark man with extravagant moustaches and richly colored, flowing robes in shades of green. I tried not to stare but he was virtually a dwarf, quite small with peculiarly gnarled limbs. He carried a silver salver upon which rested a shining bowl. Inside it was a large, soft-looking globe of a pale yellow substance.
He bowed to me and presented the salver with a flourish.
Kaldir said, “May I present Leo al-Amarna, the mayor of New Medina.”
“New Medina awaits the Queen of Shadow. All is ready,” the mayor said. “And for the queen, lemon ice.”
I drew in a delighted breath. Lemon ice was a delicacy of the DesertDwellers and a treasure for the rest of us. “I thank you for your most gracious gift and I look forward to meeting the kind people of New Medina.”
I took a spoon and tasted the dessert. Cold and tart, it sent an enjoyable chill through me, as though every cell had been magically tra
nsported back to my beloved Castle Remarck. Its tang puckered my mouth. “Mmm.” I couldn’t repress my pleasure. “This is a wonderful gift. Thank you.”
Smiling, the mayor bowed his way out of my tent.
I beckoned. “Kaldir, will you share?”
We sat on my bed and gradually, pleasantly, sharing the same spoon turned into kissing. Ah! I loved Storne, was irresistibly attracted to him, but Kaldir’s soft, full lips enticed me like no others. Cooled by the lemon ice, they traveled along my neck to the loose opening of my robe.
He pushed aside the halves of the garment and pressed the cold spoon against my nipple. A chilly pleasure zinged to my pussy. Already heated by the unnatural warmth of this place, it reached another level of sultriness as I moistened. I spread my legs.
He cupped a bit of lemon ice in his fingers and reached for my slit, sliding drippy, icy liquid into my notch. I gasped and fell back against my pillows. My clit felt… Oh, I cannot describe the feeling, small and chilled as well as hot, throbbing and ready.
He kneeled between my open thighs and began to eat the lemon ice out of me, slipping his tongue up from my vagina to my clit, circling it, then back down again to thrust his tongue inside me, scouring my opening to lick away every trace. Cold turned to hot as my clitoris swelled, heated as his lovely mouth caressed me.
I reached for his hand, kissing his fingers, licking away the sticky sweet, taking each finger into my mouth as though they were cocks, sucking each one.
He understood and, rising, pressed me down on my bed and lay against me with his mouth at my pussy and mine near his cock. I ate another bite of ice, rolling it around my mouth, enjoying its tart chill. I swallowed before engulfing his turgid cock. I took him in all the way, enjoying Kaldir’s gasp of surprise. I could imagine what he felt, his sensitive flesh enveloped by a mouth that was both cold and hot, a tongue lapping against his hard member, sucking, the chill dissipating, blooming into passionate heat.
And he returned my attention, impaling my slit with a cool finger while he ate more lemon ice with his free hand. I squealed as he pumped his finger in and out of me. When he withdrew his hand, he again kissed my pussy with those wondrous lips, delicately licking my clit. His mouth was chilly but he lit a fire in me, and I bent my knees, lifting myself higher for him while I wrapped my arms around his muscular buttocks, pulling him in, drawing him close so I could suck him better.
