by Sharon Kay
“I want to fuck you until you scream, Princess,” he rumbled. “But it’s your move. What do you want to do?”
She unbuckled his belt and pushed his pants down over his hips. His boxer briefs were next, and his cock bobbed toward her like a missile seeking its target. “This.” She dropped to her knees.
Arawn’s cock got impossibly harder at the visual of Ria on her knees. She looked up at him, holding his eyes, as she took him in hand and licked slowly, tantalizingly, from his balls to his tip.
“Fuck,” he groaned.
“Been wanting to taste you so bad,” she murmured. Her pink tongue swirled his head around and around as she gripped him near the base.
He threaded his hands into her hair. “Holy shit, that’s good.” He rocked toward her, but she kept up her velvety assault on his head, taunting him with the heat of her tongue but holding back. A drop of moisture seeped from him.
“Mmm.” She licked him greedily. “You taste so good.”
“Take all of me, baby.” He clenched his teeth. His balls tightened with need. Shit, all she had done was lick him and he was about to lose it. “Your tongue is too good. Need your whole mouth.”
She obliged, sliding her lips around his girth. Her mouth was as hot and wet as she was between her legs. Just as soft. Just as tempting. She ran her hands up the back of his thighs to hold on as she worked him deeper.
“Love to see you swallowing my cock, baby,” he grunted.
She made a humming noise that vibrated around his cock and through his whole body. Below her sinful mouth, her breasts swayed as she moved back and forth.
“Fuck, Ria,” he growled. “I’m close.”
She gazed up at him with wicked intent, and pulled back to play with the head of his cock. Her tongue went back to the teasing swirls and she cupped his balls.
“Naughty witch,” he hissed. “I’m about to revoke letting you be in charge.”
She grasped him firmly and pulled her mouth off him. “We wouldn’t want that, now would we? Not when I’m about to make you come down my throat.” In one swift move she took his cock deep. One hand played with his balls while the other gripped his ass.
He exhaled sharply at her bold dirty talk. Who the hell knew she was this unrestrained? He grabbed her head and guided her to a perfect pace.
She hummed, she tugged, she sucked. His shaft bumped the back of her throat. Her breasts bounced, her ass was perfectly framed in that black scrap. His orgasm built at the base of his spine and he was helpless to do anything but succumb to Ria’s sexual sorcery.
He came with a shout, pumping into her mouth. The suction of her cheeks rubbed against his length as he thrust. She took him all, swallowed every drop. And then after he was done, she kept on sucking, this time in a slower rhythm. Her lips glided along his spent length, licking his hypersensitive skin in a liquid caress.
“Gods, baby.” He stopped her movement and pulled her up against him. Loving how swollen her lips looked from being wrapped around him. “That was fucking incredible.” He crashed his mouth down onto hers.
She kissed him hungrily, dragging her nails down his back, before breaking away. “My turn,” she said. Then she bit his neck.
Like in the abandoned cabin, her bite sent arrows of lust straight to his cock. But this time, she clamped her teeth down hard. He was sure she broke the skin, but far from causing pain, her action caused a flare of primal male pride. She was marking him. And doing it hard enough that it would take a few hours to fade.
In fact, he might ask her to do it again because he planned to still be in here fucking her for the next few hours.
She tossed her hair back and smiled, and sure enough, the tiniest smudge of red darkened her lips.
“You proud of yourself?” he asked. Hell, he was proud to bear her mark.
“I am if you liked that.”
“I fucking loved it.” He cupped her bottom, then leaned her back and dropped them to the floor. “My turn.” He laid her down on the rug, kneeling between her legs, and ripped her thong in two.
Her body glistened with her arousal and hell if that didn’t make his cock stir again. As if she hadn’t just sucked down every damn drop of his come. She writhed and propped her head on one arm to look at him. “I need you,” she whispered.
“Yeah?” He traced one finger up from her entrance, spreading slickness along her folds. “You’re soaked.” He drew a lazy circle around her clit.
She gasped and rocked into him.
He pressed with his thumb. “One finger, Princess.”
She moaned. “I want your cock.”
“You’ll get my cock when I’m ready to give it to you. Such a tease.” He knelt lower, inhaling the intoxicating smell of orange blossom and her desire.
“Arawn.”
He chuckled and licked her in one slow upward stroke, and paused with the tip of his tongue at her clit.
Her body trembled and her eyes shone with raw hunger. “You’re so bad. I need you inside me now. Or I’ll do it myse—”
He sucked her clit into his mouth and she shrieked. Her body arched and her hips rocked into him. He slid two fingers into her body. “Yes!” she cried. “More.”
He pumped in a third finger, circling inside her wet depths. The whole time he kept up his touch on her clit. She shivered. “Oh my gods, I’m close.”
A fresh burst of wetness bathed his hand. She whimpered and writhed. Her head tossed from one side to the other, her hair a mass of wild blond.
Then she cupped her breast. He froze, rapt, tracking her fingers.
“Don’t stop,” she panted, begging him with her eyes and voice.
He suckled her sensitive flesh again, watching in fascination as she massaged her nipple to a swollen, stiff peak. His cock hardened at the visual onslaught, and he growled against her soft lips.
A massive shudder tore through her body, then she gasped and thrust furiously against his face. Her scent, her fluids covered him. In this minute he owned her body. And she had marked him.
His cock, heavy and throbbing, brushed against the rug. He was still kneeling and he was at full, insistent attention. “Ria,” he growled. “I’m ready again.”
Ria gasped as she was lifted and flipped like a doll. She found herself on her hands and knees on Arawn’s expensive rug. His hands gripped her hips roughly. Her body still trembled with the aftershocks of one of the most intense orgasms she’d ever had.
Crack!
His palm struck her backside, hard.
It was perfect.
Crack! He repeated it on her other cheek.
She moaned in pleasure.
“You’re a bad girl. So bad. Sucking me off like that and then playing with your tits.” His heat washed over her as he moved behind her. His hardness bumped her ass.
She tilted her hips to expose herself completely to his dominance. “What are you gonna do to me?” she breathed. Anything, anything! Her core screamed to be filled and claimed.
“What I’ve wanted to do for a long time.” He grabbed a fistful of her hair and held her tightly. Then he guided his thick cock to her entrance. “Fuck you rough. As hard as I want, because I know you can take it.” With one thrust, he slammed home.
She cried out at the sensory overload of pressure. He pulled back only to slam deep again. His hold in her hair was tight, pulling her head back so she was looking up at the crown molding. But the dark, carved wood was lost on her, her eyes unfocused and her other senses took over.
His scent surrounded her. His shaft stretched her full, his muscular body pounded her from behind. It was primal and erotic and her desire built anew.
He pulled her hair, he pushed his cock deeper. She submitted, loving how he took control, loving that he was being free with her.
No holding back. Just them. Her breasts swayed as he plunged in deeply and she reached up to touch them again, knowing she needed more stimulation to come again so soon.
“You touching yourself again?” he growled
.
“Mmm-hmm,” she mumbled into the rug
Abruptly his hand landed between her shoulder blades and pushed down hard. She turned her head to the side, nestled her cheek against the dark pattern of leaves. Her shoulders touched down next. This new position tilted her ass up higher, deepening his angle.
“Fucking hell, woman.” His hands caressed her ass lightly, in surprising, tantalizing strokes. It was a sexy contrast to—
Crack!
He smacked her again. But his rough touch was as much a turn on as his soft touch. Through it all, he kept thrusting in a rhythm that made her breasts rub against the rug. She reached a hand up along her belly and dipped between her legs to grab his balls.
He chuckle-groaned. “Fuck, Ria. Two can play that game.” His fingers slid around her hips to rub teasing circles on her clit.
“God, yes,” she moaned. “More. Harder.”
Arawn pistoned behind her, working his magic touch with his cock and fingers until her body bowed in pleasure. She arched her back to take him deeper as a powerful orgasm stole her breath. He bellowed his release and finally stopped, panting.
Strong hands caressed her spine and sifted through her hair. “Holy hell.” He pulled out, and before she could register what was happening, he had flipped her again, this time into a cradled hold against his chest.
Dark eyes ringed with amber pierced her. “Have I told you that you’re perfect?”
She shook her head. “Think I need to hear it again.”
“Perfect girl.” He carried her to a huge bedroom furnished with a king size bed, two wingtip chairs, and his dresser.
“Sexy girl.” He held her with one brawny arm as he drew back the chocolate brown duvet and cream sheets. “Tough girl.” He dropped her down and she bounced on the mattress.
She grinned and scooted to the side, making room for him. “I could get used to that.”
He climbed in and stretched out on his back, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. She rolled toward him and draped one leg across his. Her fingers wandered up his belly to trace patterns on the muscled slabs of his chest. So strong. The toughest warrior she knew.
And the best leader. Yeah, he sometimes made mistakes. Everyone did. But he calculated, planned, devised, always with the goal of maintaining peace.
And right now, she couldn’t imagine a more perfect male.
“Your bed is comfy.” She glanced up to the elaborately carved posters at the corners.
“Huh. I don’t spend much time here.” He skated a finger down her forearm. “But that could change.”
“Yeah? Hmm.” She studied the room, which didn’t have much in the way of details. Caramel walls with a mahogany chair rail and matching crown molding. Dark wood furniture. A huge mirror over his dresser. Two doors…probably one for the bathroom and one for a closet.
“I’m glad you came to Nevo’s service,” he said.
“Of course. I wouldn’t miss it.” She propped up on one elbow to look at his masculine sexiness. “I hate that I missed all the ceremonies for those who died in the big battle.”
“I was being selfish.” He draped an arm across his eyes.
“What? Why?”
“I wanted you there, for me.” He lifted his arm a fraction to study her. “You settle me.”
“Oh.” She blinked, confused, and smiled. No one had ever told her that before. “Um, thanks?”
He snorted and pulled on her arm. “Lay down, pretty girl.”
She complied, nuzzling his shoulder and stretched her arm across his chest. “I know you.”
“Yeah?”
“I asked you if you were okay because…” She kissed his warm skin, daring to question his deepest emotions. “Of the way Nevo died.”
“I know.” His grip on her shoulders tightened. “I relive Lottie’s death every time one of my warriors dies that way.”
Her heart tore at his candor and she looked into brown eyes that were thoughtful, but not pained.
“Reliving it won’t change anything. Won’t bring Nevo or any of the others back.” He toyed with a lock of her hair. “The only thing that will, is keeping our team strong. Fighting smart. Staying one step ahead of the enemy.”
“Yeah.”
“Which is why we’re looking for Verdak’s sword. If it exists I don’t want some assholes like Splinter to get their hands on it.”
An odd tension crept into his voice, tinged with something that sounded like hatred. But in all her time here, she’d never known him to hate. Creatures were either good or bad. On the side of peace, or on a vicious quest for power. And Arawn dealt with each side with the same calculated efficiency.
“It seems like it really does exist, if Splinter wants it so badly,” she mused. “Or they could just be crazy.”
“They are crazy. But in a fanatical way, which makes them more dangerous. More tenacious.”
She rubbed her eyes. “This isn’t very sexy talk. But it’s my fault since I brought it up.”
He rolled on top of her, pinning her hands above her head. “It’s business. And I say we can mix business and pleasure.”
She giggled. “Yes, sir.”
The ends of his hair tickled her cheeks and he studied her as if memorizing her face. “No other female has ever seen this room.”
Feeling bold, she tugged one hand free and pushed a wavy lock of hair away from his face. “I vote for keeping it that way.”
He stared down at her as his expressive eyes showcased his emotions. Funny, how she could read him easier now than ever before. Heat, possession, tenderness, and something deeper. Something that seemed to express love and pain all in one fleeting aspect of his gaze. She didn’t understand, but she knew she’d only scratched the surface of her demon. Understanding would come in time, and she could wait. “I second that, Princess.” He released her hand and covered her mouth with his.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and arched up against his body as their tongues touched in a languid rhythm. A part of her heart melted, forever sunk in the depths of his eyes. This was more than physical. Arawn had overcome his past and strove harder than anyone else to prevent more bloodshed in their realm. And he’d borne the weight of it alone for long enough.
She held her perfect warrior and knew, with each passing day and each shared memory, that she belonged to him.
C
HAPTER 22
THREE DAYS LATER, ARAWN LAY on his back on a padded bench and pressed his usual six hundred pounds up and off the weight rack. Brenin stood by as his spotter, a job that Scorpio often did.
Arawn grunted and lowered his weights. The male hadn’t turned up yet, and by this time Arawn would’ve expected it. He could get out of most traps by brute force, unless there was black magic involved. He blew out a breath and pushed up again.
“Have the drones spotted anything?” Brenin asked, watchful of Arawn’s load.
“Just tracking their numbers, their patrol rotations so far.” Arawn lowered the barbell. Wolfe had hidden cameras in high-flying mechanical hawks, capable of circling the skies over the Bloodspire Mountains in normal-looking flight patterns. If any of the birds were snared, shot at or simply crashed, the camera would destruct upon impact. Wolfe was a damn genius. “We should be able to make a specific plan today.”
“Good.” Brenin rested his hands on his hips. “I want to take down as many of those fuckers as we can.”
“Agreed, and you can—”
Arawn’s phone trilled a series of beeps and at the same moment, so did Brenin’s. That meant news. And usually not good.
Brenin had his phone in hand and scowled as he scrolled through the report. “Thane’s estate was raided. He was killed. And Renata was stolen.”
“Shit.” Arawn read the report as well, scanning for names. “No one claimed responsibility.”
“Means it’s a group of fucking cowards,” Brenin muttered.
Arawn scrubbed a towel over his face. “Renata belonged to Verdak and contained a me
ssage about the sword, which also belonged to Verdak. We need to assume whoever took her is looking for the sword.”
Brenin nodded. “We need to decipher that riddle.”
Arawn stood. So far, no one had proposed any ideas that made sense. And who even knew if Verdak was capable of making sense when he created it, so heavy was his paranoia. Anyone’s guess would be welcomed at this point. “War room. ASAP.”
“Got it,” Brenin said.
The conference room hummed with the chatter of his top fighters as Arawn approached, and stopped the second he strode in and closed the door. “Ideas. Now.”
“Sir,” Aleksai said. “Where the riddle says ’stone is steel,’ I think that could be referring to the Carapace rocks. The sword could be hidden there.”
Arawn halted at the head of the stone table. The Carapace rocks were a group of limestone formations that had existed as long as anyone could remember. They stood in the valley of a small mountain range known as the Carapace Mountains. Some of the rocks stood tall, like pillars, and some lay on their sides. Many seemed to be in the form of weapons, like arrows or blades. Any magic used to create them was long gone, but theories about their creation abounded. Arawn nodded. “That’s plausible. But that’s only one line of the message.”
“’The eastern wall’ could refer to a large formation that has an east-facing side,” Aleksai said. “Some of those formations are as big as buildings.”
“Maybe,” Ria spoke up. “But has anyone died there? What about the dead going to rest?”
“Someone could have died there,” Willow said. “Verdak could’ve dumped a body.”
Mathias cleared his throat. “I think we’re all agreed that the first lines indicate the constellation of Drea’s Tears and how they align with the moons.”
A round of nods circled the room.
“They will move into the exact position in three days.” Arawn paced the front of the room. “So if something’s supposed to happen that night, time is ticking, and we don’t have a lot of options to be wrong. We’ve got the Carapace Mountains.” His eyes flicked to Aleksai. “And we shouldn’t discount Verdak’s tomb.”
