“What? Orishok, do—”
He lifted her out of the water, sat her on the edge of the pool, and dropped to his knees. Pushing her legs apart, he leaned forward and kissed.
“OH MY GOD,” QUINN BREATHED, hands flying to his head. He lapped at her folds from bottom to top. With each stroke of his tongue over her clit, she cried out, her pelvis jerking. He held her still; there’d be no escape.
She lay back and surrendered to his assault.
Her voice echoed in the chamber, and she made no attempt to muffle it. She was overwhelmed by sensation, pushed beyond thought. Her skin heated, her back arched, and her fingers curled against the stone floor. Release hovered just within reach, but remained elusive.
“Orishok,” Quinn begged.
He pulled his head away. “Did I hurt y—”
Her eyes flashed opened and she looked at him. “Don’t stop! I need more!”
After a moment’s hesitation, he dropped his head, and the tip of his tongue circled her clit. Then he put his lips around it and sucked.
In her mind, she said something like holy shit, but all that came out of her mouth was a wordless cry of ecstasy. Heat flooded her and her skin lit up with pleasure that was nearly unbearable in its intensity. When it was over, she lay limp, her thighs spread as Orishok lazily licked her sex. His green eyes glowed bright.
Orishok pulled back and stood. “Sweeter than riverfruit.”
Quinn chuckled, both pleased and amused by the comparison. “I thought you couldn’t...eat.”
“I cannot. But I remember.”
Quinn hummed and rose onto her elbows. She extended a leg and hooked her ankle around him, drawing him closer. “What else do you remember?”
“The only thing that matters is here now.”
She tilted her head. Quinn was used to Orishok not understanding innuendo and hidden meaning, but something in his words gave her pause. It’d been so long since she’d experienced physical intimacy, and this had surpassed her wildest expectations before they’d even come together.
She’d had casual sex in the past, and that was all this was meant to be.
But what if it meant more to Orishok? For her, it’d only been a few years. He’d been alone for one hundred and fifty of his years, at least. How long had it been since Orishok last had sex?
He deserved better.
Quinn sat up and placed her hands on his sides. She smiled at him, then leaned forward to kiss his chest over his heartstone. She pulled back and looked down, eyes widening with her first real look at his cock. It was a few shades darker than the rest of him, long and thick, curving upwards. But it was the ridges that surprised her. There was one close to the base and several more along the shaft. It sparked a mixture of anxiety and excitement; he was large, but she could only imagine that he’d hit all the right places.
She reached for him, closing her hand around his cock. He released a soft, grunt-like sound, and his eyes brightened. Lifting his hands, he cupped her face, fingers slipping into her hair.
Quinn tilted her head back to meet his gaze. “What do you want, Orishok?”
He stepped closer and leaned his forehead against hers, combing his fingers through her hair. His hands continued down, over her shoulders and along her arms, finally settling on her hips.
“I want you, Quinn.”
His layered voice reverberated through her. Widening her legs, she pulled him near with her foot. She stroked his cock and pressed its head to her waiting sex.
“Then have me, Orishok. I am yours.”
Orishok’s grip tightened infinitesimally on her hips before he pulled her forward. Quinn gasped as he impaled her. She tightened her legs around him and grasped his biceps. Orishok held still, but Quinn felt every bit of him inside. She was full of him, and every inhalation made the ridge at the base of his cock rub against her clit.
He brushed his fingertips over her temple as he smoothed back her hair. They’d spent a lot of time learning each other’s languages, but this moment required no more words.
Quinn shuddered as he drew back his hips, squeezing his arms. She lost her breath when he thrust forward; the ridges glided over her inner walls and clitoris, creating sweet friction that sent sparks of pleasure through every nerve in her body.
There was no more hesitation on his part. Though his movements were steady and his pace almost relaxed, Quinn was wild. Her cries turned into screams as a swift climax overcame her; it was followed quickly by another.
Orishok continued, never looking away, and gradually increased his pace. The fire in his eyes burned brighter and brighter. Panting, Quinn threw her arms around his neck and pressed her mouth to his in a desperate kiss.
He dropped his hands to her ass, picked her up off the edge of the pool, and stepped backward without missing a beat in his rhythm. He lifted and pulled her down on his cock, using her body weight to thrust deeper and deeper. Quinn felt another climax building, every nerve vibrating as he pushed her closer to oblivion.
“Orishok,” she cried against his mouth. A moment later, her entire body tensed as wave after wave of pleasure crashed through her. She screamed.
He broke their kiss as a growl erupted from him, the multi-toned sounds drawing together into a singular voice. His back arched, and she felt the heat against her skin as his entire chest glowed from within; the fist-sized heartstone at its center was a dark shadow in the green-blue light. Fingers clenched her flesh and he pressed deep into her. Tremors rocked his body, pulsing into her through all their points of contact and sending another wave over her.
When the tremors subsided, Quinn lay limp against him, nothing more than a boneless heap. Orishok held her, running his fingers lightly up and down her spine as he eased into the water. He stopped only when it reached their shoulders.
She sighed and closed her eyes. The heat of Orishok’s body mingled with the warmth of the water, surrounding her, soothing her. She’d never felt like this with another person; had never felt this connection to another being. Orishok made her feel cherished, loved, important. The soft trickle of running water and his gentle petting lulled her.
She was safe in Orishok’s arms. Safe from the outside world, safe from those who would tear her away from him.
I want to stay with him.
Orishok stiffened, and his hand paused for a moment. Quinn realized she’d spoken out loud.
He took her chin and lifted her face, forcing her to look into his eyes. They blazed. “You are mine, Quinn.”
Chapter Ten
THE FAINT, GRAYISH light of early morning was illuminating the room when Quinn awoke. She squinted against it, disoriented and groggy, and rolled onto her back. Gasping, she slid her hand beneath the blanket, over her naked body, and cupped herself between her legs. There was no true pain; only a distinctive, overwhelming ache, a phantom reminder of the things she’d experienced with Orishok.
If it weren’t for her lack of clothing, she might have thought it all a dream. She only vaguely recalled Orishok bringing her home from the baths, and didn’t remember him putting her to bed at all.
Sitting up, she held the blanket to her chest and scanned the room. Orishok wasn’t here. Not by the fountain, not by the center couches or in the bed, not in his customary position at the window. That was concerning; he’d remained close every day since she came Bahmet. He’d been an unwavering presence.
“Orishok?” she called, swinging her legs over the side of the bed.
There was no answer.
Releasing the blanket, she slipped out of bed and put on one of the dresses hanging on the wall. It was a deep violet, cinched around the waist by a corded belt.
He’s the last protector of this city. Maybe he’s just out patrolling?
She looked for her shoes and frowned when she didn’t spot them. They were likely in the bathhouse. Oh well; it wasn’t like she’d never dealt with cold floors before. As she stepped into the hall, she noted the difference immediately. Between the heat stones and
the rugs they’d placed inside, the floor in their bedroom was pleasantly warm. The hall floor was icy in comparison.
Hurrying downstairs, she wandered the ground floor, but there was no sign of Orishok no matter how many times she called. Quinn knew it was too soon to worry, but that knowledge provided no comfort. After seeing him take down the rockfur, she had trouble imagining anything being a real threat to him...so why her unease? He’d probably thought she would sleep later than she had.
Anyway, Bahmet was a big place, with a lot of dark, dilapidated buildings. How far did she expect to get while barefoot and hungry? He was likely to get back long before she found him, and then he’d be the one worrying.
Quinn sat at the kitchen table and broke open the last riverfruit. Using a spoon-like utensil, she scooped out the insides, forcing herself to eat slowly. She was nearly through the second half when she heard Orishok’s heavy tread echoing along the otherwise silent street outside.
Leaping up, she ran for the front door to await him. As she stood there, she noted the strange lightness filling her; it felt as though she might float away if she didn’t hold herself down. It was excitement and anticipation, yes — she was eager to see him — but it was also anxious shyness. Her only long-term relationship had been while she was a teenager, and had been rife with the typical teenage awkwardness and drama.
Everything since had been one in a series of brief flings — one-night stands in which either she or the man gathered their clothing under cover of darkness and slipped out quietly before the other woke.
This...this was new. She’d bared more than her body to Orishok, and she wanted more of him.
He stepped into the doorway, holding a large bucket — maybe barrel was the better word — in his arms. He stopped when his eyes fell on her, and smiled. Both Orishok and his burden were splattered with drying mud.
“Quinn.” There was a flutter inside her belly at the sound of her name from his lips. “Do you not need more rest?”
Despite her annoyance at the blush heating her cheeks, she smiled. “No, I’m fine. I just woke up and noticed you were gone,” she said, clasping her hands behind her back to keep herself from fidgeting. “I was...worried.”
“I am sorry. I did not want to make you worry.”
“I shouldn’t. It’s silly. I mean, you’ve been here all this time and I saw the way you fought that rockfur.” Quinn bit her lip; she was rambling in her nervousness. What was wrong with her?
“It is not...silly. Sonhadra is beautiful, and offers much, but it demands much, as well.”
Smiling, she pointed at the barrel. “What’s that?”
He dipped his gaze. “It is a gift, for you.”
“A gift?” Quinn raised her brows and stepped closer. The rim of the barrel was too high for her to see inside.
“We should go up. To the room,” he said.
She nodded and led the way, anticipation fluttering in her stomach. What could it be that it needed to wait until they were upstairs?
Entering the room, Quinn turned around to watch Orishok. He carried the barrel to the center of the room, set his feet wide apart, and lowered it to the floor. Despite his care, the sound of it touching down belied its great weight.
“I found this at the river. It is yours.”
Curiosity and eagerness pushed her closer to the barrel. She peered over the rim at the mess of gray sludge filling it nearly to the top. She looked up at Orishok, then back into the barrel as her mouth lifted in a grin.
“Is this what I think it is?”
“It is clay, yes?”
“Yes!” Quinn leapt up and threw her arms around Orishok’s neck, pecking a kiss on his lips. She released him, not giving the mud smeared over her dress a second thought, and hurried back to the barrel. She was near to bursting with excitement.
He’d given her many gifts — the heat stones, the clothing, the bathhouse, the decorations in the room — but this was the most wonderful gift of them all. Orishok had given back something she thought irrevocably lost. Her passion.
Quinn reached into the barrel and ran her finger over the surface of the clay, leaving a shallow groove. Tears stung her eyes, but she held them back. “Thank you.”
He dipped his head. “Anything to see you smile.”
“You know you don’t have to get me things to see me smile, Orishok,” she said, looking up at him.
“I know.”
“I can’t believe you found so much.” She kept trying to figure out what she’d make first, but no single thing stood out in her mind. There were so many possibilities.
“Is it enough? I will get more, if it is needed.”
“This is plenty for now.” His attentiveness was more touching than she could express. “Next time, take me with you. We can dig in the mud together.”
He tilted his head as though considering something. “Would you like to see something new today, Quinn?” he asked after a long pause.
“Another surprise?” She moved away from the barrel to stand near him.
“A...what is the word you say? Adventure?”
It seemed that, no matter how many times they’d been around the city, there was always something to discover.
“I’d love an adventure.”
Orishok smiled and reached for her face, stopping his hand before it made contact. He turned it and looked at his palm. “I will wash before we go. Will you walk with me to the bathhouse?”
Memories of what had occurred the last time they visited assaulted her. She cleared her throat and stuck her foot out from beneath her skirt. “I uh...left my shoes there.”
He glanced down at her foot, and then spread his arms and looked over himself. “I will carry you,” he said, the corners of his mouth tilting up, “so you will have to get in the water, too.”
Quinn laughed, gathered a change of clothing, and stepped between his arms. “Behave yourself.”
He lifted her with ease, cradled her against his chest, and smirked. “I do not know your words, Quinn.”
She traced her fingers over his lips, grinning. “Of course you don’t.”
ORISHOK WALKED ALONGSIDE Quinn as they left the bathhouse. They’d washed up, splashed each other a bit — Quinn’s laughter still resonated in his heartstone — found her shoes, and left in a hurry, driven by her excitement for the coming adventure. He felt no disappointment in this; he shared her anticipation. The place he was taking her was the only one in Bahmet he’d never entered.
As they journeyed away from the hill into which the baths had been constructed, they passed a several valos. The pain of their loss was forever etched into his heartstone, but it could not dampen his spirt while he was with Quinn. Their deaths were no longer meaningless, now that she was in Bahmet, now that life was in Bahmet.
What he meant to do today would be the final act of defiance against Kelsharn. It would be the reclamation of Orishok’s existence, the solidification of his independence.
They paused at the crossroads; if they went straight, it would bring them very near to their home place, while a left turn would lead them to the square with the broken statue. Quinn followed him to the right. After a short while, the buildings on either side gave way to open land, as barren as that immediately outside the city.
The street split into two diagonal lanes, which cut through empty ground that had once teemed with lush vegetation — manicured trees, shrubs, and grass, and flowers that had no place anywhere near this mountain. They walked over the central, triangular patch of land, following a faded stone path that had nearly been reclaimed by the surrounding dirt, and stopped several paces away from the edge of a large chasm.
“What is that place?” Quinn asked in awe.
The roads ran alongside the chasm and turned back toward one another, meeting at a raised stone platform on the other side. There stood another huge statue of Kelsharn, overlooking the city that had been created at his whim; his posture proud, aloof, and powerful.
Low walls separate
d the lanes from the sheer drop-off just beyond; this was the edge of Bahmet. A large bridge led away from the statue, spanning the gap to the next peak. Curved, pointed columns rose from the signs, spaced at regular intervals along its entire length. It ended at a wall of dark stone within which stood two large doors. Jagged spires jutted into the sky from the structure.
“This was Kelsharn’s palace,” Orishok said. He’d expected to feel something here — some of the old hatred, perhaps, or the sorrow he’d clung to for so long despite how dull it had been without his heartstone. What he felt instead was anticipation. This place had been Kelsharn’s. Long ago.
“He had a palace?”
Orishok glanced at her. She stared ahead, either at the statue or the palace entryway. Her brows were low, but he couldn’t decipher her expression.
“Orishok?” Quinn met his gaze. “Do you think Kelsharn could come back?”
“Yes. He could. All things are possible on Sonhadra, where females fall from the sky.”
She smiled, but the expression faded. “If he did come back...what would he do with me?”
He cast aside the onslaught of thoughts sparked by her question; if she were subjected to what Orishok and his people had gone through, it would break him. “It does not matter, Quinn. If he returns, I will kill him. He made me death, and I will show him no one can escape it forever.”
Her eyes widened briefly, though the smile that followed was warm and genuine. “I believe you.”
“Come,” he said, and they followed the edge of the small chasm to the road on their left.
The path brought them to the monument on the other side. Quinn climbed the broad steps to the platform upon which it stood; the dark stone jutted out into the pit so the statue was positioned near the edge. She ran her hands along the smooth surface that was Kelsharn’s skirting.
“Why did you leave these standing, after all he did to you?” Quinn asked, tilting her head back to stare upward.
Orishok mounted the platform and stopped beside her, studying the sculpture. It was fitting for Kelsharn’s ilk; they enjoyed looking down upon other beings. “Without our heartstones, it did not occur to us. We hated him, but the hate was far away, and he was gone. The statues didn’t matter, then.”
Undying (Valos of Sonhadra Book 7) Page 13
