As she turned to run, a hand reached out to stop her. She was about to clock the guy when she realized it was Rickert. His eyes blazed with a fury she’d never seen before, his eyebrows two dark slashes above them.
“Back the fuck away,” he growled to Dragon-Breath.
“Who’s the woman, D’Angelus?”
Rickert stiffened. “None of your bloody business, McCready.”
Another man stepped off the porch to join his friend. “Unlike Crestenfahl, we don’t allow Pacificans to just walk our streets, mate.”
“Aye,” Dragon-Breath agreed. “We kill ’em.”
“You boys better damn well shut your piss holes or I’ll shut them for you.” Rickert’s voice was low and menacing as he shoved her behind him.
He was protecting her? She’d never had this happen before. Even when she’d been mugged a few years ago on the waterfront, her then boyfriend had backed away, leaving her to deal with the situation herself.
“Pretty big words for someone who’s outnumbered six to one,” Dragon-Breath smirked. “Even if you are in the Guild.”
Rickert reached for the hilt of his sword.
“It’s okay,” she whispered. “We can leave.” She didn’t want any bloodshed on her account.
She heard the metallic sound of several blades being drawn, but the moment she grabbed Rickert’s free hand to pull him away, a warm electrical charge moved up her arm. In an instant, it spread throughout her body and she dropped to her knees, still clutching him.
A gasp went through the small crowd of onlookers and several of the men cried out. She looked up to see an empty bench skitter in the doorway. The wrought-iron sign began swaying on its chain. A sawed-off log seat tipped over and—
“It’s levitating!” a woman’s voice shrieked.
“Sweet Mother of the Fates,” someone else cried.
All of the men fell away and scattered, disappearing into the market without a backward glance. Except for the squeaking sound the sign was making, everything was silent, as if the market were collectively holding its breath.
“Rickert,” she said breathlessly. “Oh my God.”
The tingling sensation in her arm lessened and the log fell to the ground with a crash. The sound seemed to snap him back to awareness, because he wasted no time pulling her to her feet.
A piece of hair had fallen over his forehead, covering one eye. Combined with the hard set of his jaw and his slightly flared nostrils, he looked wild, like a caged animal ready to attack. He scanned the few onlookers, daring someone else to confront him. When no one did, he scooped her into his arms, plowed through the market without saying a word, and in minutes they were back on his horse.
Her heart thumped loudly in her chest as his powerful arms encased her, his body almost engulfing hers. When he placed his hands atop hers and positioned them in Duag’s long mane to give her something to hold, she felt like a puppet, willing to do anything if he pulled the right string.
“Rickert, what happened back there? Are you all right?”
“Don’t know. Don’t care.” He urged the horse into a gallop.
Her skirts billowed around her legs and her hair whipped across her face as they practically flew down the dirt road. Duag’s hooves barely touched the ground.
What was the urgency? Was there some danger she didn’t know about...or was it something else? “Where are you taking me?”
His breath was hot against her ear. “Back to Castle Crestenfahl. If I can last that long...”
What was he talking about? As his hips moved with the animal’s gait, she noticed the hard ridge of his erection at her back.
Was he—?
Were they going to—?
A wickedly delicious sensation numbed her fingers and toes, tingling between her legs where her body made contact with the saddle. He was going to make love to her when they got back to the castle, she realized with a thrill. She was acutely aware of the leather rubbing her over and over in an erotic rhythm.
Oh God, if she wasn’t careful, she could easily have an orgasm right here. Right now.
Don’t, Neyla. This is silly. You’re on a horse, for God’s sake.
His arms tightened around her as if he sensed this argument she was having with her common sense. She arched her neck slightly, wishing they weren’t bouncing around so much that she could kiss the tender triangle of skin under his chin.
“You were amazing back there,” she told him. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
His knuckles turned white as he gripped the reins. “Those men—”
“It’s okay,” she murmured, trying to calm him down. “I’m an outsider. I understand. It’s over now.”
Instantly, his big hand came up to cup her breast as if claiming her, and he nuzzled the back of her neck. “Aye, it is. You’re mine, Neyla, and I’m going to have you now.”
Have her? Could he really be this bold and domineering? Clearly, he was unafraid to stake his claim and take what he wanted.
And what he wanted was her.
Excitement prickled along every nerve ending and an aching, almost painful need formed low in her belly.
“If that’s a problem,” he growled in her ear, “tell me now, and I’ll do what I can to control myself. But if you wait till we get there, it’ll be too late.”
“I...I want the same thing, Rickert. I want...you.”
The incredible sensation between her legs intensified. She realized her hips were grinding her sex against the leather saddle, the thin fabric of her undergarments offering little buffer. As if sensing this, he reached a finger down inside her low-cut bodice and rubbed her aroused nipple. Shards of electricity shot into every corner of her body.
“I plan to get my fill of you. Over and over. So you’d best accept that now, lass.”
Oh God, it felt so good. He felt so good. She was close. So very close.
She molded herself more tightly against him and let his erection jam against her backside, a promise of what awaited her when they arrived. Although the trees were a blur on either side, she wished Duag could gallop faster. Imagining Rickert’s thick shaft greedily pushing its way into her body, filling her to the brink, she could hardly wait.
It would be incredible, of that she was certain. He’d be a masterful, commanding lover. He’d take what he wanted from her and wouldn’t be gentle, but she had a feeling it’d be exactly what she’d need.
As if she were inside some magical dream rather than on the back of a horse, her world began to spin around her, taking them higher and higher.
His hand on her breast, pinching, twisting, just to the point of pain. Her core aching from the hard, rhythmic pressure. A gathering, low in her belly.
Until...until...
She stifled a scream as she came.
* * *
The sound of his boots echoed off the stone walls, punctuating his haste to get her to his bedchamber before he exploded. He had barely contained himself the other night when he had helped her with her gown, the only thing stopping him being her obvious reluctance. She’d stiffened when he placed his hands on her. Oh God, he had wanted her that night. Only through extreme force of will had he been able to leave without bedding her.
Praise the Fates, for he sensed an eagerness from her now. A raw, almost palpable energy. Like the anticipation in the air right before a thunderstorm. And if he wasn’t mistaken, she’d actually climaxed on the ride here. Without any penetration. Which meant she was very sexually responsive to him. He loved that. A lot. It opened up a whole world of possibilities.
A few people eyeballed them as he carried Neyla through the Great Hall. Someone—maybe Tierney—chuckled. He took the stairs two at a time and kicked open the door with a bang. With her in his arms, he’d never been more powerful, as though he were twice the man he had been before.
“You do things to me, Neyla. Things I do not understand.” He set her down next to the bed. Her hands lingered on his shoulders for a moment before she took a
step backwards. He bulged against the leather stretched tightly across his crotch, the heat of her stare electrifying him. “What I do know is that I’m going to take you. Right here, right now, before I lose my mind.”
He heard her sharp intake of breath as he unlaced his breeches, springing free his heavy erection. He didn’t bother to strip them all the way off. He could do that later.
Why wasn’t she naked for him yet? “Your clothing—remove it.” He was vaguely aware that he’d said these same words to her before, but under very different circumstances.
She took another step backward and her fingertips grazed the bed, but she didn’t immediately comply. “Now,” he demanded. “Unless you want me to do it for you.”
“I’m capable of undressing myself, Rickert,” she said, in that sassy, teasing tone. She grabbed the ties of her riding cape and let it drop to the floor. Her breasts strained at the top of her bodice as she reached around to unfasten it.
Too slow. He grabbed her hands and a rush of energy spread through his body, just as it had at the market. Concentrating on the buttons at the back of her dress, he heard a sound like popping corn as threads broke and the pearls hit the floor.
“Rickert,” she said laughing. “This is Petra’s dress.”
“I’ll buy her a new one.”
His breath lodged in his throat as he stared at her now naked body. He’d seen a glimpse of her back at the portal, but this time she didn’t cover herself from his curious eyes; she stood before him, stroking her fingertips along the muscles of his arms, coaxing him to continue.
“Neyla...Neyla. You are so stunningly beautiful.” He could barely form the words with such heady emotion coursing through his veins—the same feelings he’d had with the visions.
If he wanted his life to stay the same, he knew he should stop. Walk away from her again, like he had before. But as her green eyes sparkled with anticipation, and her lips parted, he knew he wouldn’t be able to stop now. He was falling for her, and very aware that he was quite possibly looking at his future.
He touched her breasts and she trembled, her pale pink nipples peaking further. He’d been caressing the right one on the ride over, so he now he lavished attention on the left, dipping his head and pulling the nipple into his mouth.
She gasped as she threaded her fingers in his hair. With a patience he didn’t know he possessed, he ran his fingers along the length of her hips as he suckled, and the sweet scent of her arousal filled his nostrils.
“Oh...my...Rickert.”
Hearing her utter his name like that, intoxicated him further, and he had to possess her. To mark her as his.
With his boots still on and his breeches around his ankles, he pushed her onto the quilts, caging her between his arms. As her cool hands slipped over his hips, he sought out her mouth, vaguely recalling that first beautiful vision he’d seen. The intense lovemaking. The baby-making. However, the gown she wore today was pale yellow, not the blue one from the mist.
No need to think about that now.
This was about sex. Pure, animalistic passion.
With a finger, he parted her folds. She was silky and hot, but her inner walls gripped him tightly. He’d have to go slowly to make sure she could accommodate him. He was large and didn’t want to risk hurting her.
His thumb caressed her tender ball of flesh as he slipped a second finger inside. She arched her back and let out a little moan, her muscles clenching around him. Was the lass coming already? Again?
A low growl rumbled in his chest at her hair-trigger response to him. More of her silkiness coated his fingers.
No, his inner voice shouted. This one belongs to you. She takes her pleasure as you take yours.
Withdrawing his hand, he wrapped his fingers around the base of his shaft and positioned himself. The tip slid a little too eagerly along her inner thigh and didn’t immediately find her opening. He had to readjust himself and— Ah, there she was.
She was silky and hot, and felt so good around him.
Careful. Slowly.
He gripped the bedclothes in an effort to keep from pushing in too quickly. He could feel the cords in his neck straining. Pausing to give her body a chance to get used to him, he nuzzled her earlobe, kissed her again and, there, she softened a little more.
Five inches. Then six.
She hissed into his ear and he hesitated.
“Are you okay, lass?” He propped himself up to see her face. Her cheeks were flushed, her pupils dilated, but it didn’t look like she was in pain.
“Yes,” she said simply. “You are...incredible.”
He leaned down again and buried his nose in her hair. It smelled like heatherwood.
Seven inches. Eight.
He was going to stop where he always did, thinking she wouldn’t be able to take any more of him. Frankly, he was surprised he’d been able to go this far. She was petite and he...wasn’t.
“You feel so good, Neyla.” He found her lips again and kissed her.
This woman is...is...
Incredibly, she’d softened a little more.
One more steady push and—
There. He was completely inside.
Mine. Neyla, you are mine.
* * *
Rickert’s flesh inside her overwhelmed every sense. As his heavy erection rubbed along her sensitive clit, waves of pleasure shot outward. She’d climaxed before he was all the way in and here she was, on the verge again. She might die, he felt that good. He was thick, overpowering, all-encompassing.
Low moans escaped her lips, and if she wasn’t careful, they could easily turn into screams.
He stilled. “You’re sure I’m not hurting you?” Concern creased his forehead and he brushed a strand of hair from her face.
“This is— You are—” She could hardly compose a coherent sentence. “I’m just trying not to make too much noise.” She gave his behind a light slap. “Keep going.”
He laughed at her impatience. “Don’t try to keep it bottled up inside, lass. I want you to lose control with me.”
“My control is long gone, Rickert, but I don’t want everyone else to hear us. The windows are open. The courtyard is filled with people.”
More slowly than when he pushed in, he withdrew until he almost broke their connection, his arms and shoulders bulging on either side of her head.
He looked down at her, the blue of his eyes as intense and endless as an arctic sea. “Aye. That is my intention. I want them to know you are mine. ’Tis what we do here. I want them to hear the pleasure I’m giving you.”
Before she could ponder that further, he drove into her again, banishing everything else from her mind. The friction of their bodies felt so incredible that tears stung the back of her eyes. She was coming again.
As if on cue, his shaft seemed to thicken. With a rumbling shout of ecstasy, he gave two quick thrusts, then released himself into her. A noise she didn’t recognize touched the edge of her consciousness. It took her a moment to realize it came from her lips. Had she cried out his name as she climaxed? Had everyone outside heard them?
They stayed joined for a few minutes, every one of her nerve endings ragged and raw, and he slowly softened inside her. Kicking off the breeches that were still around his ankles, he made a move to pull out, but she held him in place.
“I want to sleep with you inside me.”
He chuckled. “I’m not sure that’s possible, little soldier.”
Little soldier? He’d called her that before, she knew, but in this context it was...endearing. Just like when he called her lass. It was sexy. She liked it. A lot.
“I’m too heavy,” he continued. “You’re too small. I’d crush you the minute I fell asleep. Here—” He rolled to his back, bringing her to rest on top of his chest, still not breaking their connection. “How’s this?”
“Mmmm, yes.” Perfect.
With her body draped over him, every muscle spent, his heart beat a steady rhythm beneath her cheek. And as she drif
ted off to sleep, she thought she heard him say, “I love you, too, little soldier,” but she might have been dreaming by then.
CHAPTER 8
Neyla felt the heat of his stare through her closed eyelids. She yawned and rolled over, nestling deeper under the covers. Slightly sore in all the right places, she wasn’t ready to get up just yet. She wanted to replay each detail of their lovemaking, sear it into her memory.
Although Rickert had been domineering and controlling, he seemed to know her body better than she did. Everything he tried, every little movement, had pleasured her beyond anything she’d experienced before. She’d never had a man pick her up like that and carry her to his bed. Okay, it was a little barbaric, but it totally turned her on. In fact, everything about him turned her on. His demanding kisses. The warm, salty taste of him. The smell of his musky maleness. Surely, everyone in the market had heard them, just as he had wished.
A tiny surge of dampness tickled her inner thigh. She wanted him again.
“I can tell you’re awake, lass. Don’t try to pretend you’re not.”
She groaned from under the covers, delaying the inevitable. She could stay tucked in these sumptuous quilts all day. “I’m still tired.”
“Then I guess I’ll take this back to the kitchen. Cook will be disappointed.”
Food? Her stomach growled and she realized how hungry she was. Starving, in fact. Stretching like a cat, she opened her eyes.
Holy crap. Rickert stood over her, holding a tray of food and wearing only a pair of leather breeches laced loosely up the front. Her hands ached to touch his muscular, well-defined chest and comb through his tousled dark hair. The guy was a freaking olive-skinned Adonis.
Rickert went to the kitchen looking like this? Other women in the castle had seen him...like this? A brief but sudden possessiveness came over her, not unlike when she used her Protection-Talent. Part of her wanted to shield him from others, keep him all to herself.
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