Courting Kel

by Dee Brice

  “Ondrican men…blast it! Most Ondrican men don’t rape.”

  Storr cleared his throat, effectively silencing the argument. “We’ll settle this later. For now, we’ll eat like civilized people.”

  Tage said, “If Your Majesty will excuse me, I have other duties.”

  “With a blonde, a brunette and a redhead,” Storr announced. “Be wary of her, Tage. Women with even a touch of red hair are hellions.”

  “As you know,” Kel mumbled loud enough for all to hear.

  Laughing, Tage left.

  For a long, uncomfortable moment they all looked everywhere but at each other. Kel called upon her warrior’s training and held perfectly still. She wanted to fidget. More, she wanted to run, but refused to let cowardice claim her.

  At last, surprising her, Storr pulled out a chair and motioned her to it. Apparently approving of her acquiescence, Aren nodded as he sat opposite her. Storr sat at the table’s head. Which seemed to signal some unseen observer to begin serving the meal.

  What kind of man was Aren that he didn’t sulk or glower when she refused to acknowledge their marriage? He seemed no different than when they left his palace. Was he afraid of Storr? She glanced at each in turn and saw in them a deep affection for each other. Despite the king’s bellicose manner, Aren did not fear him. Which meant—treacherous man!—Aren refused to accept her refusal.

  “If I recall, our foods are similar to yours, Keleos.”

  “Your memory is clear, Storr. The foods are similar but their preparation differs.”

  “Not unpleasantly, I trust.”

  He sounded so pleasant, looked so charming, Kel almost forgave him for his earlier rudeness. Almost. Basalia had cautioned her to beware of charming men.

  “Kel is especially fond of sweetmeats,” Aren said, grinning at her.

  “So is Basalia. How is your mother?”

  As if you care. “Well, tak. Your wife, Majesty?”

  “Died nearly twenty years ago.”

  Kel looked at Aren and said softly, “I’m sorry.”

  He nodded.

  “She was ill for a long time. Her death was almost a relief.” Storr sighed.

  “Especially for her,” Aren said, forking a mouthful of scrambled eggs into his mouth. He sounded carefree but his eyes said he still mourned his mother.

  As they finished eating, Kira appeared with a dewy pitcher. “The winale, Majesty.”

  “Good. Serve the lady first, Kira.”

  Kel covered her glass. The girl’s sweet smile didn’t fool her for a second.

  Aren stared at her for a long moment. Holding out his own glass, he said, “I’ll share with my wife.”

  The girl poured. As she rounded the table to serve Storr, she whispered to Kel, “I’ll not risk my life by poisoning the likes of you.”

  Kel bared her teeth, satisfied when Kira blanched and backed away.

  When she’d gone, Storr raised his glass as if to toast them. “I have reached a decision concerning your alleged marriage.”

  “Father.”

  “Hold your tongue, Aren, or I’ll have Kel cut it out.”

  Grinning at Aren, she said, “Tak, Storr, but that isn’t the part of his anatomy I want—”

  “Aren will court you.”

  “Father!”

  “For how long?” Kel demanded.

  Storr seem to consider the question but said quickly, “One year.”

  “One month.”

  “You may already carry his child. Ten months.”

  “Nine and not a day longer.”

  “Done!” He grinned at her and Kel’s heart lightened. She could bear staying as long as she knew she’d be released. Then he added, “Let the courting begin. Take her home, Aren. Take her home.”

  Her heart sank.

  * * * * *

  After they left, Storr retired to his bedchamber. Locking the door, he said, “Vid.” A screen blinked on, filling an entire wall. “Basalia.”

  Kel’s mother’s face appeared. Although she looked eager for news, she merely nodded, the briefest of her normally curt greetings. They might be allies now but they would never be friends.

  “Your daughter is as stubborn as you are.”

  “She has refused Aren?”

  “Not exactly. They have mated. She insists on going home.”

  “You promised you would keep her, Storr. You prom—”

  “This may be our only chance for peace on both our worlds. Or at least to bring a modicum of happiness to our people. My men grow tired of competing with each other for the women who agree to immigrate.”

  “Yet they refuse to search for wives more frequently than every five years.” Basalia’s sneer faded. “They seem content to continue raiding Amazonia every few years.”

  “Traditions die slowly. Your women seem equally content to breed with my men and give up their sons.”

  Basalia sighed. “They, too, grow restive, as if they yearn for something better. More…lasting. I fear that given the opportunity, they would gladly immigrate to Ondrican.”

  “And my men would gladly immigrate to your world. Which would solve both our problems.” He raked his hair.

  “We could simply order our children to accept their marriage. Tell them it’s critical to the survival of all our people.”

  “I wish we’d thought of that sooner.”

  “So do I but…” Her features softened, as if some tender emotion had overwhelmed her.

  “But?” he prompted gently, reluctant to return to bickering.

  “Wouldn’t it be wonderful if they fell in love?” She shook her head then met his eyes, hers now clear of sentimentality. “We have set this plan in motion. It’s too late to turn back now.”

  Deciding to leave further doubts unvoiced, he said, “Nine months. Since our children have mated and she might carry my grandson—”

  “My granddaughter.”

  “She’s agreed to stay nine months.”

  “Good. But there is more, isn’t there?”

  “Yes. I ordered Aren to court her.”

  Basalia grimaced. “She won’t like your Ondrican way of courting.”

  Storr smiled. “If she’s half the woman you are, she’ll come to love our ways.”

  Sighing, Basalia murmured, “At least your matings are done in private.”

  “Except for the orgies, yes. I wish… You’d enjoy the orgies.”

  Laughing, Amazonia’s queen bade him goodnight.

  * * * * *

  The Princesses’ Palace

  “I suppose I should call you Prince Aren or Highness,” Kel said, taking off her cloak and looking around for some place to hang it.

  “Aren will do. Put it on the bench. Drew will put the cloak away.”

  “Your home has no closets?” From under her eyelashes she watched him strip and then don his robe. His cock stirred but quickly subsided.

  “We haven’t many clothes.” Taking her hand, he led her to the bedroom.

  “I’ll not mate with you again, Aren. Not until you’ve courted me.” Frowning, she added, “How long a courtship shall we have?”

  “As long as it takes for me to woo you to my bed. Vid on.”

  An enormous screen flashed to life. It appeared to have a kind of grid, with images of different… “Bedrooms?” Kel almost choked on the word.

  “Yes. Thirty-nine of forty. Blank two,” he commanded and that grid went dark. “Our rooms are also hidden. Not that anyone can see from the other bedrooms.” He shrugged. “Tage knows about the screens, of course. Even so, I doubt he’d like our seeing him fuck his princesses.”

  “You…” She moistened her dry lips. “You intend to watch the others mate?”

  “We will watch, Flame.” Leading her to a chaise wide enough for vigorous sexual activities, he sat then pulled her onto his lap. His shaft responded to her warm ass squirming against it.

  “I don’t want to watch.”

  “It is part of courtship. Either we watch or you acknow
ledge our marriage. We’ll have our public ceremony and fucking in a month. Private fuckings will continue. Beginning tonight.”

  Slanting him a measuring look, she said, “Voyeurism is an unfortunate aspect of both our cultures.”

  “Yes. I’ve never understood watching when I could do.”

  She looked down then up again. “How did Storr learn my name?”

  “I told him. As I introduced you.”

  “You didn’t say my name until after he did.”

  “Then Tage told him. No matter,” Aren insisted, shifting Kel to his side and keeping one arm around her. “Courtship or bed?”

  She heaved a sigh. “Courtship. But no touching.” She inched away.

  He snuggled her closer. “Touching is part of courtship. Which of the rooms shall we watch first?”

  “I don’t care.” Crossing her arms beneath her breasts, she closed her eyes.

  “If you don’t watch, I’ll…”

  His voice held enough menace to pop Kel’s eyes open. “If you touch me in anger, I’ll geld you.” Yet she doubted he would harm her. He seemed the kind of man who would not resort to violence. But as a way to control Kel, it served its purpose.

  “One day you may force me to actually do that. Enlarge room three.”

  Kel could barely make out the three figures on the bed, they were so entwined. “Wh-what are they doing to her?”

  “Sound on.”

  The groans and moans almost drowned out the sound of flesh slapping flesh. “Harder. Faster,” the woman begged. “Fuck me harder. Both of you. Yessss!”

  Kel clapped her hands over her ears.

  “Kel,” Aren threatened, his soft voice against her hand more menacing than Storr’s shouts.

  “This is too much.” Kel lowered her hands.

  “It appears one is fucking her ass, the other her cunt. She seems to enjoy it.”

  Kel groaned.

  “When Tage has recovered completely we could have a ménage.”

  Open-mouthed, Kel stared at him. “You’d share me?”

  “Only for ass fucking. Your cunt—since you gave me your virginity, your cunt—”

  “Belongs to you?” she squeaked. “And I didn’t give you my virginity. You took it! Sort of. Mostly. Since I really had no choice.”

  Easing his hand over her hip, he laughed. “Let’s see if we can find the beginning of an encounter. Scan.” Several rooms flashed by before Aren said, “Hold.”

  Kel couldn’t look away. The men were naked. The woman bared her breasts to caress her own nipples.

  “We could help you, Princess,” one of the men on the vidscreen said.

  “Ooooo, please do.”

  While one plucked and suckled, the other stripped off her gown then knelt between her legs. Reaching down, the woman grasped their cocks and the three stumbled to the bed.

  “Sc-scan,” Kel said, but the vid remained steady. By all the gods, her nipples hardened and her juices moistened her labia. Her clit felt swollen and needy. She yearned to have Aren’s tongue lapping her pussy. To feel his fingers plucking her nipples. Her breathing constricted and her heartbeat sped.

  When Aren touched her nipples she mewed and turned her head for his kiss.

  “You want what she’s having,” he murmured, stroking her areolas.

  “Yesss.”

  “I want to give you everything they’re giving her. But first…” Shifting her onto his lap, he eased the sheer gown off her shoulders.

  That she refused to acknowledge their marriage had surprised him. More than that, it hurt his pride. As they had eaten with Storr, Aren had fought to keep his feelings—his resentment—hidden. Now he was glad he’d done so. Kel might think she knew everything about fucking but she didn’t. And she knew even less about Ondrican courtships. He’d seduce her with her own desire. She’d rush to his bed, a willing participant in fucking.

  “Suck me.”

  “Not yet.” Cupping her breasts, he massaged them and noticed her nipples tighten. Knowing the rigid peaks must ache, he stroked them gently. “Straddle me.”

  Without even looking at him, she obeyed.

  As if rewarding her, he resumed stroking her nipples. She mewled, arching into his hands and questing fingers. Shifted her hips so his shaft rode between her moist nether lips.

  He moved her to his side. If he had to suffer not being buried to his balls inside her hot cunt, she’d suffer with him. “Courtship,” he reminded himself and Kel.

  She rubbed her sex against his thigh and hummed.

  “Stop it.” Blast it! If she didn’t stop he’d cream all over her or fuck her here and now. Without her verbal consent—a critical part of courtship.

  “Why? It feels good.”

  “I know…but it’s against the rules of courtship. The man guides every stage. The woman stays still.” As lies went it was enormous but one she’d never know.

  She narrowed her eyes and huffed a sigh. “I’ll try to hold still. But I won’t promise. Ahhhh. Pinching feels good too. Sucking would…oh Aren. I think I can’t hold still.”

  He plucked and pinched and stroked. Felt her juices seep along his thigh as she climaxed. Dint of will kept him from rolling her to her back and taking her, hard and fast and deep.

  “Your breasts are so sensitive, I think I could make you come like this.” He caught her fists inches from his chin. “I know your warrior instincts command you to defend yourself but you’ll learn that all forms of pleasure are acceptable. You’ll learn to want them. Even crave them.” Removing his belt, he tied her hands in front of her. None too gently, he shoved her to the back of the chaise, holding her face immobile. “Tell me what the men are doing to the woman now.”

  She glared but said, “One…one is sucking her b-breasts. The other is feasting between her legs.”

  “Is that what you want me to do to you, Kel?” Nodding, blushing, she looked at her tied hands. “You must say the words.”

  “You can’t suckle and…do that at the same time.”

  “Then tell me which you want first. Or, much as I hate to interrupt Tage, I’ll summon him.”

  “No!”

  He waited. At last she looked at him. “Whichever you do, I cannot promise not to move.”

  Covering his smile, he stroked his chin. “I’ll allow it.”

  Spreading her legs, she smiled up at him.

  “Tell me what you want, Kel. Suckling or eating?”

  Puffing out her cheeks, she stared over his shoulder. He kept his gaze on her face but heard the woman’s moans change to cries of pleasure.

  “Feasting. I want you to feast on me.”

  “Knife.”

  The dagger from a nearby table appeared in his open hand. Kel cringed away but could not escape. Her back pressed against the chaise. Aren sat at her feet, her skirt trapped under his thighs. He could kill her before she moved beyond his reach.

  “I’ll not hurt you, Kel.” With careful strokes, he cut away her gown then eased the fabric off her body.

  She felt like a piece of fragile porcelain. A treasured gift he wanted to touch but, as if afraid she would shatter, he sat on his heels and stared. As his gaze moved over her, she imagined his hands following that same path. Shivers of longing raised gooseflesh on her flushed skin.

  “Are you ever going to—?”

  “Yes. When I’ve memorized your face and form. After I’ve told you how beautiful you are. Once my hands have sculpted your lengths and curves.”

  “Are sweet words part of courtship?”

  “Part of courting you, yes.” Reaching up, he traced her ears, his fingers featherlight. She giggled. “Ticklish, eh?”

  She nodded. “But only there.”

  “We’ll see.” He nibbled her lobe, laved just behind her ear. “You like that.”

  “Yes but I don’t see what it has to do with…what I want you to do.”

  “You will.”

  She tried to distract herself by watching the vidscreen. It had somehow gone bac
k to scan. Every image mirrored Aren’s journey down her body. Well, except for there being two men with each of the princesses. And yet…by all the gods, she could not feel any more aroused had six men attended her.

  “Since you want me to feast on you, Flame, I’ll not suckle you.”

  “Can’t…can’t you do both? Just a little? My breasts are so swollen they hurt. My nipples ache.”

  “As you wish.”

  His tongue soothed over each rigid peak. Sweet gods, could he do it to her again? Make her shatter with only his mouth on her breasts? She felt the little pulses building in her pussy. He sucked harder, stroked harder. Her hips shifted against his thigh, seeking his cock.

  “If you want fucking, Kel, you’ll have to admit we’re married.”

  “No.” But oh! She did want something in her. His cock—which he denied her. His fingers which now stroked over her clit. She thrust up. If she could not have his glorious cock, she would have his magic fingers. But the wretched man only stroked her clit as he kissed his way down her body. His light stubble rubbed her inner thighs. His breath caressed her needy clit.

  “Ahhh,” she moaned, looking down at his dark head between her splayed legs. Now. Kiss me there. Now! Lick me there.

  “You smell so sweet, Flame. Like pear blossoms in spring. No, sweeter even. Your desire, your own scent begs me to taste you.”

  She wanted to scream at him to hurry but had no voice. Anticipation left her mute. Made her little more than a pussy craving whatever he might give it. At last, he touched his tongue to her clit. Once more she jerked so hard her hips left the chaise. Laughing, he shoved a pillow under her hips, raising her level with his mouth.

  “Your dew glistens like raindrops on seros. I am a man stranded in the desert. I crave your nectar.”

  She groaned and considered pounding her tied hands over his thick skull until he stopped torturing her. But finally—just when she thought an unconscious man might serve her as well as Aren—he lapped her from channel to clit then back again. Wiggled his tongue into her pussy and thumbed her clit.

  He eased his fingers between her buttocks and into her ass. It hurt but only for a minute. As he continued to lap her pussy and her clit and gently probed her ass, she shattered. Bucking, writhing, she cried his name. She wanted the exquisite torment to end. She wanted it to go on forever.