Cianan slid to his side, his hand placed warmly on her belly as he kissed the cuff of her ear. “You’re so beautiful, Sascha. Seeing you lying here ignites a fire I’d thought long dead.”
She blushed, but couldn’t bring herself to say anything in response, feeling only the palms of his hands moving in slow circles around her navel. It was as if he were memorizing her skin, every curve, every blemish. He leaned down to kiss her again, but she shied away.
“Cianan,” she whispered, her fingers against his lips. “I should tell you. I’ve…” She stammered, losing her nerve every time she looked into those glowing embers in his eyes. “I’ve never done this before. I don’t know what…”
“Ssshhh...” he soothed, kissing each of her fingertips. “You’ve nothing to fear, little one. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”
He gave her a comforting smile, and she nodded. She grew quiet as he placed a trail of burning kisses across her collarbone. She closed her eyes, wanting to clear her head from the spell he was working over her with his hands. He continued stroking her skin, caressing each little crease and studying her reactions. The sweeps became wider until his fingertips brushed the gentle curvature of her breast. She made a small whine and he took it as encouragement, taking her breast into his mouth again. This time, he took the bud of her nipple between his teeth, nipping it gently with the point of his pearled canine.
A taste of bittersweet copper rushed into Cianan’s mouth as his teeth scraped her skin. He gasped, startled by his error. He knew it would take much more of his venom to infect her, but still, he had to be cautious. One taste of her blood would make him want more. His tongue flickered across the swollen flesh, and he allowed himself to gather the tiny pearl of blood that collected in the miniscule dimple at the point of her nipple. Sascha groaned beneath him, and he was sure she hadn’t felt the tiny pang. He brushed her obsidian locks away from her neck and bent down, inhaling her scent where it was strongest, just under her ear.
“God, Sascha, if only you could feel how much I need you.”
His hands, once content to circle lightly over her middle, were beginning to stray to more exotic destinations, alighting on her thigh, just over her knee. He watched her face for any signs of fear, but her eyes were closed, and she had her lower lip poised between her teeth. Meeting with no resistance, he became bolder, sliding his hand along her thigh and rubbing the inside gently. He heard her sharp intake of breath, but she didn’t stop him. With gentle pressure, he pushed her thigh to one side, opening her sex to him. The untouched flesh with its silken curls prickled at the rush of cool air against it. She made a soft whimper and he pulled back slightly.
“Relax, little one,” he soothed, his voice barely a whisper. He avoided her sex purposefully, stroking along the edge of her hip and down each thigh. He smiled, enjoying watching her reactions as his fingertips barely brushed the edge of her pubis. He leaned down, his lips a whisper against her ear. “Tell me to stop.”
“No.” She nuzzled against his cheek. “Don’t stop.”
He smiled again, taking her earlobe between his teeth and nibbling gently, careful this time not to nick her gossamer skin. His breath against the cuff made her shiver visibly. Raising his nose to the air, he inhaled deeply, taking in the musky scent of her arousal. It made him hungry, and for a moment, he was afraid his control would be fleeting. She reached out to him and he could tell that she wanted to touch him. He allowed her, taking her tiny hand and pressing it to the strong curvature of his muscular chest. Once there, she was keen to explore, if somewhat timid. He tried to encourage her with a soft groan, watching her fingertips circle his small circular nipples. She smiled as if pleased with herself and scraped the smooth edge of her nail across it. He gasped and it was his turn to shiver.
“Did I do something wrong?” she asked, her eyes suddenly wide with apprehension.
“Not at all,” he reassured her. “Merely made me shudder with my desire for you.” He stroked her cheek with a feather-light touch, turning her face away so that he could weave a snaking path of kisses from her temple to the center of her breast.
Just as he took a nipple into his mouth, sucking it deeply inside, his fingers finally strayed to her center. Cautious and gentle, he brushed the back of his hand over the silken mound of flesh. She mewled and made a movement to pull away, but Cianan wouldn’t let her, holding her close with a heavy hand on her hip and the other clamped firmly over her sex. “Just lie still,” he commanded in a rasp. Before she could protest, he began to move the heel of his palm in firm strokes. She gasped, arching her body with an involuntary jerk. He whispered another reassurance and she calmed. He kissed her forehead before sitting up and crawling into the space between her thighs. Cradling her ankle, he pulled each leg to rest on either side of his kneeling form. From this vantage point, he could see everything. Every breathless sigh would be his to feast upon.
She stared up at him with wide eyes, searching for any sign of displeasure. She could see none as he pulled her body closer, propping her hips against his knees so that every part of her was exposed. She squirmed a little with impatience, wanting him to continue stroking her most intimate places. But it was more than obvious he was bent on making her wait, teasing her until she begged. She was nearly there. She wanted to him to claim her, possess her in every possible way. She could remember every line of Bella’s journal, and now it seemed the same fate awaited her.
His eyes were cast down and he seemed to be studying her body. In the dancing firelight, his consummate features were cast in sharp relief against the shadow. His long, black lashes rested against his cheek, and a wisp of raven hair fell across his brow. She had to look away. Just the sight of him made her mouth water and her breath come in short gasps. His hands held her firmly, his thumbs pressing against the corners of her pelvis. He rubbed gently up and down the sloping V that pointed toward her center. As her breathing slowed, his thumbs made a sneaky path to rest on either side of her nether lips, opening them carefully like the petals of some rare flower. She could feel herself blushing again, but she didn’t dare move. The anticipation of what was to come was almost as pleasurable as his slow manipulation.
He leaned forward and breathed softly over the moist inner flesh. With a slight turn of wrist, he took one hand away, leaving the other to hold her sex open. She felt her whole body pulsating from some secret place inside. With incredible precision, a single fingertip sought out the source of her heat and tapped at the swollen nub lightly. She thought she heard him moan deeply in his throat, and it only made her more eager to please him. The pads of his fingertips played with the tiny bit of flesh, and each caress drew another sigh of pleasure.
Suddenly, he stopped, and Sascha tried to sit up, whimpering and pushing her body against him. “Please, my lord…”
“Do you trust me?” he asked, his face solemn.
“Yes,” she hissed, writhing beneath him wantonly. She felt him open her sex further and for a moment, she thought she’d tear apart, but there was no pain, only a throbbing emptiness that gave her a ravenous feeling in the pit of her stomach then the strange sensation of his fingertip delving just inside her opening, slipping along the edges gently until she was panting. It was only a moment’s caress, for almost as soon as he began, he pulled away. He drew his dewy fingertips across her belly, leaving a trail of moisture that spiraled around her navel.
“So warm. So wet,” he murmured almost to himself before leaning over her to lap at the glistening fluid that clung to her skin. “Bittersweet,” he said. “Your taste lingers on my lips like an exotic spice that I cannot place.” He paused and their eyes met, his glistening with an amber glow. “It makes me hungry for more.”
The tone and timbre of his voice suggested that he may truly be considering devouring her. She didn’t have much time to think on it, as she could feel his hands on her again. This time, he didn’t tease her. The pads of his fingers pawed at her sex, eager to gain entrance. She gasped a
desperate plea, arching her back until one of them slipped inside. “Cianan,” she whimpered. “Please…” Her voice trailed off.
He scowled, looking worried. “Did I hurt you?”
“God, no,” she groaned, squirming against his hand. “Please, don’t stop.”
She bit down on her lip, trying to hold back the unladylike cries that threatened to fall from her mouth. There were many times she’d touched herself in secret in the dead of night, alone in her bed. But nothing could compare to the way he touched her now. She never imagined it could be so different, so much more powerful. He moved his fingertip slowly inside, stirring the strange brew that boiled within. He was testing her, exploring every nook. She cried out, startling herself, when another digit slipped into the narrow passage. They delved deeper, slip-sliding around one another until they reached the wall of her maidenhead. Instinctively, she began to grind her body against him, taunting him to move them in perfect imitation of the evening to come.
He chuckled softly and pulled back, taking his hands away from her body. “Slow down, little one. I won’t require your surrender just yet. The moon has only just risen.”
She wanted to cry and beg him to go on. To let the wave that was surely coming wash over her in a crescendo of pleasure. She had the fleeting thought that he rather liked watching her tortured pleas.
“Cianan,” she whispered.
He made no sound, but put a finger to his lips to signal that she should keep quiet. She obeyed and watched with wide eyes as he crawled backward on the bed and stood up. Her eyes took in the impossible landscape of his body, every bit looking as if it had been carved of stone. Again, she felt that ache at the back of her mouth and she swallowed deeply. His fingers tangled in the leathery laces at the closure of his pants as he loosened them. She sat up on her elbows to see better, unable to contain her impatience. He pushed the soft leather down his hips, and she followed the shadowed line of his pelvis all the way down until her eyes rested on his cock. She could feel her eyes open wider, almost painfully, as she stared. Of course she’d seen one before. Animals, mostly, when she’d been responsible for caring for them. And once, she’d spied on some of the village boys when they’d gone for a bath in the stream just outside of town. But none of that could have prepared her for Cianan. Just as Bella had predicted in her journal, his size was intimidating, and it frightened her. But more pressing was her fervent desire to touch him.
She didn’t have to wait long as he kicked the leggings aside and was immediately crawling toward her again. His movements were cagey, as if he were stalking his prey. He didn’t speak to her, but knelt between her outstretched legs and grasped her hips, pulling her down the bed toward him. She was silent, her eyes never leaving his, afraid if she spoke the spell would be broken. He leaned over, burning her lips with a slow kiss that left her breathless. Instinctively, she put a hand on his chest, pushing him back gently, but he held strong. Taking her wrist, he wound her arm around his neck, and she relaxed against him. His mouth moved against hers, brushing lightly as he whispered against them. “Don’t be afraid.”
Hearing his words and feeling his protective embrace around her, she knew she trusted him and was ready to become his mate. His words had been true. It was what she was made for. She found herself wrapping her legs around his waist, her body pleading with him for completion. She could feel him, impossibly hard, nudging at her opening. With a gentle arch of her hips, she invited him inside.
“Claim me as your own, Cianan,” she whimpered. He licked her lips seductively and slowly pushed his cock into her. Sascha groaned softly, her body desperately trying to acclimate to this new sensation.
At first he was still, not wanting to hurt her despite his need, but soon she was writhing against him and he couldn’t stop himself. He pulled back slightly and then pressed into her a little farther. She gasped softly as his sex bumped against the thin barrier of her virginity.
“Are you certain, Sascha?” he hissed through clenched teeth. “Once it’s done, you can’t turn back.”
“Please, my lord,” she whimpered. “Make me yours…” Her words were cut off abruptly as he thrust into her hard, breaking through her innocence with a single stroke.
Sascha cried out, but he quickly silenced her with another searing kiss. Again, he was still, letting her pain subside. The gentle stroking of his tongue against hers soon made her forget the pain and she became dizzy with lust. After a few moments, he began to move slowly. At first, she bit her lip against the burning ache. Every stroke seemed to tear her apart, but gradually, it deepened to a throb that sent trills of pleasure inside. Soon, she was moving with him, meeting his every stroke with a turn of her hip. He grasped her hips tightly, moving her where she needed to go. He coaxed her to arch her body higher, to push against him harder. All the time he was whispering in her ear wetly, reassuring her of each and every movement, urging her to take her pleasure in whatever way she saw fit.
She could feel a terrible pressure against her center. It was so warm and the skin there so sensitive, an inflammation of flesh that could only be soothed by the delicious friction of their bodies. The pleasure was so intense it frightened her and she cried out, reaching for him.
“It’s all right, little one,” he purred against her temple. “Let it come.”
She obeyed this gentle command and suddenly, her body was tense. Every muscle ceased to respond and her entire being was contained within the knot of flesh at her center. She couldn’t help the screaming and clawing of her release. Her orgasm rolled over her body, spiraling out from her sex like the ripple of a stone on the water. In a few precious seconds, it was over and her body went limp, exhausted.
Her breaths came in short gasps and he lay atop her motionless, waiting for her breathing to calm. After a few moments, he slid to her side and pulled her against him. She immediately curled into the crook of his arm, not wanting to leave the warmth of his body. He pressed his lips against her hair.
“Never leave me again,” he whispered, but she was already asleep.
Chapter 14
Rage boiled in Ioin’s veins as his carriage bumped down the overgrown Avenue. His Syban sat opposite him, sniffling silently. When Vasilia had dared asked why they’d had to leave so suddenly, her queries had been met with a brutal fist and a warning to keep silent. The other two had taken the example and heeded the warning, comforting their sister quietly as they made their way toward Falkin.
How could he have been such a fool all these years? Looking back on it now, he realized that he’d missed all the signs that his friend had been transformed. It was true that since boyhood, Cianan had had a quick temper, but his unprovoked fits of rage were uncharacteristic. They had finally caused King Sebastian to sheathe his sword and send Cianan from the battlefield. At the time, it seemed a ridiculous decision, but now Ioin could see His Majesty had been very wise. He wondered if the pompous old man had known. Yes, all the signs had been there, but he hadn’t paid attention—the long disappearances during his visits, Cianan’s seemingly ageless countenance. All these things should have alerted him to the fact his friend had been bitten by one of those abominations in the Outlands. But no, he’d defended the son of a bitch to his men, to Sebastian himself. He had refused to believe that his friend could be one of those…things. A new fountain of hatred roiled in the pit of his stomach, making it turn over sickly. Such creatures shouldn’t be allowed to exist. It went against God.
And then there was that little whore, Sascha. She thought Cianan would protect her, but she was mistaken. It was far from over. Ioin did not accept defeat easily, and he would find a way to have that little bitch. Her body would be his to use as he liked and when he was through, she’d be begging for that beast to save her, if only by devouring her flesh. But of course there’d be no one to hear her pleas for mercy. He’d see to it.
“My lord,” Neesa said nervously, breaking his hateful reverie. When he didn’t respond, she touched his knee with a shaking hand. “M
aster?”
“What is it?” he snapped.
“We’re nearly to Kaspar. Do you wish to stop?” He stared at her with an icy glare, but she wasn’t deterred. “The horses will need to rest, master.” He turned away and didn’t answer. Taking this to mean that they should stop, Neesa rapped at the roof of the carriage to signal they should stop at the city gates.
Minutes later, they were lumbering through the muddy roads to the inn. Kaspar was a small village, but seemed to overflow with its rural denizens today. Everyone was bustling in the early morning hours, traveling to Falkin for market day. Carts, cattle, and peasants moved through the narrow paths as a boiling mass that made Ioin’s head ache. He hated the noise. He was used to the clean, stony streets of Yarik. He wrinkled his nose in disgust as he stepped onto the ground at the tavern doors. This place smelled of rotting earth and poverty. It was unfamiliar and distasteful. And though he was exhausted, he wasn’t sure he could stay here. Even the Gypsy camps of the Outlands had been preferable with their spiced scents of coriander and sage.
Beast of Burden Page 14
