by Jasmine Walt
Lorelai shuddered and shook, chilled to the bone. Was that what it felt like when her family became the monsters who walk in the dark? When they were contorted and twisted and made to look like unimaginable beasts, their bones malformed, heads enlarged, torsos twisted. Monsters of the night whose only intent was to do the bidding of the black mist, of whatever controlled them within the Grosse Obscurite. Tears streamed down Lorelai’s face and she rocked back and forth.
“Lorelai? Lorelai?” Bruno rushed into the room, pulling her into his arms and swaying her as she wept. “It was just a dream. It was just a dream.”
“It’s not just a dream! It happened to my father, my mother, my whole family. It happened.” She stopped, her words swallowed by her breath, heaving in great gulps of air. Her breasts pressed tight against his firm chest.
“Lorelai, stop.” Bruno brushed the hair back from her face, trying to calm her, but she could barely understand what he was saying. Heat pulsed from his hand, calling to her like a light in the darkness. “It did not happen to you. You are fine, you are safe.”
“I am not safe,” she whispered, her whole body shaking as streams of tears fell down her face. “None of us are safe.”
“I will keep you safe with everything in me,” Bruno said. He wrapped his strong arms around her and rocked her gently.
The darkness was still out there, all around, but slowly it receded beneath his touch. His hands, his body, his heat pushed it away and bathed her in light.
“Bruno.” Lorelai lifted her tear-stained face to look at him. His blue-eyed gaze was so tender, so filled with understanding, that it broke down the last of the walls guarding her heart. Before she knew what was happening, she had leaned in and pressed her mouth against his.
The touch of their lips together shocked, and the two of them jolted as if struck by lightning. But Bruno did not loosen his hold, and Lorelai did not pull back. Sliding her hands through his dark hair, she kissed him fully, savoring the urgent heat that rose between them. He was light and warm, full and loving. Everything the darkness wasn’t.
“Lorelai,” he rasped. Cold air rushed between them as he pulled away, sending a shiver over her. Surprise and doubt raged in his eyes as his gaze moved from her face down her body, clad in a simple linen night dress and held in his arms. “I…what do you want from me?” His voice was unsure, as if he couldn’t believe she could actually want him.
But she did. With every fiber of her being. She wanted to know what it was to make love to a man full of strength and virility. A man as vibrant and full of passion as Bruno.
Lorelai closed the distance between them, taking slow, deliberate steps. Her hands pressed against his chest, feeling his pulse and the heat within him that called to her, insisting she claim it as her own.
“Your heart,” she whispered. “I want your heart.”
Bruno bowed his head, a great sigh rushing out of his body. When he raised his gaze to her, love and passion radiated from his eyes.
“My queen,” he murmured, “you have always had that.”
She pulled open his shirt and placed her hand against the taut, smooth muscles of his chest. “Take away the cold,” she said against his lips as she pressed herself forward, her erect nipples grazing him. “Show me what it is to be warm and loved again.” Reclining into the pillows of her bed, she pulled him on top of her, letting his heat smother her. His manhood pressed firm and erect against her hips. Male, strong, and fertile.
“I want this,” she said, reaching between his legs and caressing him through his pants. In this moment, she was everything she wanted to be as a woman and nothing she had been allowed to be…yet.
“Yes,” Bruno growled, his eyes darkening with pleasure as she stroked him. The sight sent a thrill through Lorelai, and when he rose up to remove his shirt, the firelight from outside her tent played over his muscular form, and she reached out to touch him again, skimming her hands over the ridges and valleys as she savored his strength. He let her touch him for a bit, then took her hands in his and kissed her fingertips with a reverence that made her heart sing.
And that wasn’t all he kissed.
Lorelai gasped as Bruno pushed up her night shift, his roughened hands sliding up her legs and sending shivers of sensation through her. The chill air kissed her skin briefly before he covered her body with his, flesh to flesh, Bruno’s trousers the only barrier between them. His lips found hers again, and he kissed her fiercely, his tongue sweeping inside her mouth and filling her with his taste.
Lorelai’s mind emptied, her fears driven away by the searing passion overtaking her. Her hands drifted down to the waistband of his trousers, and Bruno groaned when she slipped her left hand beneath the cloth and took him into her hand. She gasped against his mouth as she slid her hand down his shaft, feeling how long and hard and thick he was. While she wasn’t a virgin, her husband had not been this large, and she had only ever coupled with him a handful of times. Could she really handle Bruno?
“What is it?” Bruno asked, his brow furrowed with concern as Lorelai pulled back. “Are you all right?”
“I…” Lorelai blushed as she glanced down at his groin, even though his cock was still hidden from view. “I’m just worried it won’t fit.”
Bruno grinned. “It will,” he said, pushing his trousers down the rest of the way.
Lorelai’s heart raced as she beheld him for the first time. She tried to pull her hand back for a better look, but Bruno clamped his fingers around hers and wrapped them more firmly around his cock.
“Touch me,” he said, his voice hoarse with need. “Like this.”
He guided her, showing Lorelai how he wanted to be stroked. The feel of his cock in her hand, all silk and steel and glorious heat, was fascinating to Lorelai, and she spent a good long while touching him, familiarizing herself with this part of him. Bruno’s hips rocked into her hand as she stroked, his eyes hazy with need. The sight made Lorelai’s core throb until the desire to have him inside her overcame her.
“Not yet,” he said when she tried to guide him to her. “You’re not ready.”
“What do you mean?” Lorelai demanded, but the words were cut off by a moan as he took her breasts in his hands and began to lick and tease her nipples. His hot tongue sent ripples of pleasure, and she ached fiercely for him. She squirmed beneath him, breathless and straining for something indefinable, a release that she knew only he could provide. But his mouth and hands did not stay there forever; they drifted lower, and lower, until…
“Bruno!” Lorelai cried, shock and pleasure reverberating in her voice as he dipped his head between her legs and dragged his tongue over her tender flesh. The crack of thunder and lightning masked her cry, and Bruno dug his fingers into her hips, holding her down as he ravaged her.
“You taste so damn good,” he said, the words vibrating through his core. “Even better than I imagined.”
Lorelai was about to ask just how many times he’d imagined this when his tongue flicked against a sweet spot. Groaning, she ground her hips into his face instinctively. A burst of pleasure rocked her, sending shockwaves of sensation through her body as she bucked against him.
“There we go,” Bruno said, lifting his head to look at her. His mouth glistened with her juices, his need shining brightly in his eyes. “Now you’re ready.”
“Yes,” she agreed, holding out her arms. He went to her, nudging her legs a bit wider, until his tip teased her entrance. Lorelai held her breath as she watched him slowly rub against her folds, coating his shaft in her juices. It was the most erotic thing she’d ever seen, and when he began to push inside her…
“Ohhh,” she groaned low in her throat as searing pleasure ripped through her. Never before had she felt this way, and her inner walls clenched in response, bearing down on his cock as he stretched and filled her.
“You’re so tight,” he gasped, sliding in another inch. Lorelai looked down again and realized he was barely halfway inside her. She reached down and touch
ed the exposed portion of his shaft, and he hissed, his eyes closing as he surged forward. Lorelai cried out as he buried himself completely inside her, and she clung to him, her nails digging into his back as she fought to adjust.
But as they clung together, their mingled heat and passion relaxed Lorelai, and she loosened around him, sinking into the bedding. Bruno brushed a tendril of hair off her forehead as he looked into her eyes, concern for her warring with the lust burning in his gaze.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
“More than all right.” She lifted her hips, driving him in even deeper, and he needed no invitation. He caught her mouth in a deep, groaning kiss as he thrust inside her, filling her over and over again. Lorelai quickly joined the age-old dance between man and woman. With each thrust, he expelled any thought of the mist, the darkness, the monsters, and filled her with light and warmth. A pulsating energy cascaded inside her, flowing through her and warming every particle of her being.
“Bruno,” she whimpered, as the light became overwhelming and all-consuming, taking over every part of her awareness. He drove inside her again, and something inside her gave way. A shell fell away, and she screamed as pure power flooded her body, filling her with such intense pleasure that her entire body shook from the force of it.
“Lorelai!” Bruno gasped, his voice faint over the roar in her ears as she clutched at his shoulders and arched her back.
Mine, she thought as she claimed him, riding out the waves of pleasure as his cock pulsed inside her, spilling his seed into her womb. The lines between them blurred, making it impossible to tell where she ended and he began. As she clung to him in the storm of passion and power, waves of reverberating light flowing around them, just one thought echoed in the dim recesses of her mind.
What have we done?
22
Taron strode through the encampment. Something was wrong. He knew it as sure as he knew anything. Something was amiss, and it had to do with the queen.
Lorelai.
He had called her Lorelai for so long in his head, it was not hard for him to call her Lorelai now with her permission. It felt good. But his strides were fast and tense as he made his way towards her tent, frowning at the unguarded front.
Where was Bruno? He was supposed to be outside the tent, guarding her. His heart clenched in fear. Could Bruno have abandoned her?
Or worse…
He pushed the thought out of his head. They were supposed to go to battle soon. The desert dwellers were approaching. If they did not engage today, it would be tomorrow. He needed to focus on finding the queen. Someone said they had seen Bruno out riding, but he did not believe it. He would be guarding the queen.
Taron did not bother to knock. He was a knight of the Order of the Regent. He was allowed to enter into the queen’s personal space. He pulled the tent flap aside, and a great sense of relief rolled over him. She was there with the giant laircat lying on the rug next to the bed.
He stopped at the entry, staring at her red hair sprawled across the pillows, suddenly hesitant. While he had permission to enter, seeing her in bed like this, well, it didn’t seem appropriate. “Lorelai? My queen, it is morning.”
There was no movement from the queen. He tried again, taking a few steps closer. “Lorelai?”
She did not wake.
He crossed the tent and knelt at her side, taking her arm and pulling her to him. Was she ill? Her face was pale but not feverish or cold. A huge sense of relief relaxed him as she blinked, slowly opening and rubbing her eyes. Taron smiled at her pale beauty. Her hair was messed up, her lips swollen, her expression slightly tired. She was clearly a bit under the weather, but his heart raced at her loveliness. He swallowed, desperately wanting to press his mouth against hers, but knowing this was not the time or the place.
She touched his beard with a delicate finger, stroking through the coarse strands. “Taron,” she murmured.
Shivers moved up and down his body at her stroke. By the saints, how could he restrain himself? His body tensed. He had to. It was the first time the queen had ever touched him in such a personal way. What an idiot he had been to turn down her proposal to lie together. While it was still the right choice, he would regret it forever if he never had the opportunity again.
“Where is Bruno?” Lorelai asked. And there was something in the way she said his name that made Taron’s heart skip a beat.
“Bruno?” He grimaced. “No one knows where in Mael’s name he is. He was supposed to be guarding you last night, and he’s gone.”
“It’s fine,” Lorelai said. “He was here. He was with me.”
“With you?” Taron slammed his mouth shut. What did she mean by that? Had something happened between Lorelai and Bruno? Had he bedded her? Taron’s stomach clenched at the thought of it. Had Bruno already bested them all and won the queen?
Lorelai’s hands fluttered to her head, pushing her hair back. “I’m not well,” she said. “Everything is bright and blurry.”
“Do you have a fever?” Taron shuddered. What was he thinking? Clearly the queen wasn’t well and needed to be cared for. Could he only think about his cock? He rested his hand against her forehead, but she wasn’t burning. Marrok was not far away. He had gone to fetch her horse. “Marrok!” he called towards the tent flap. “Marrok!”
“By the saints, please do not yell.” Lorelai squeezed her eyes shut and sucked in her lower lip. “It feels as if my head would explode.”
Elba let out a low growl.
“Quiet, girl.” Taron rounded on the beast, letting his irritation out. “I am trying to help your mistress.”
The massive laircat rose up on her haunches and walked slowly to Lorelai. She stood behind the queen and lowered her muzzle against her forehead, letting out a slight whimper.
“I am not well, Elba,” Lorelai said. “But I am happy. I am full and satisfied.”
Taron cringed at those words. Satisfied. Full.
Bruno.
The cool wind came in as the tent flap opened and Marrok entered. His brown skin blended with the dark interior.
“What is it?” he asked. His gaze went to the queen, who gripped at Elba’s neck and tried to pull herself up. But she lost her balance even in the sitting position and fell into Taron’s arms.
“She is ill,” Taron said, pulling her close to his chest. He didn’t want to mention his suspicion about Bruno and the queen to Marrok. It didn’t really seem pertinent.
Marrok was instantly there, on the other side of Lorelai. He knelt and reached under her throat, pressing at the glands on her neck, then feeling her temperature, checking her pulse, and peering into her eyes. “What are the symptoms, my lady?”
“She is weak and cannot stand.” Taron frowned.
Marrok shot Taron a look. “Thank you, my lady,” he snapped, turning Lorelai to face him. “What ails you, my queen?”
“My vision is blurry,” she said. “I did not know it was Taron there. The only reason I knew it was you, Marrok, is because of how stunningly burnt your skin is.” She ran her hand along his cheek much like she had fondled Taron’s beard. “And apparently, I cannot keep my balance,” she finished drowsily.
Marrok sat back on his haunches, wrapping his arms around his knees and staring down at Lorelai. “Where was Bruno last night?”
“He was on guard here.” Taron glowered at him. “What does that have to do with anything?” His body stiffened. It was one thing to have a suspicion about the queen and Bruno, but was he about to have that confirmed? He wasn’t ready for it. This had been his chance to finally have the woman he had long wanted. Would he now discover he had lost her so quickly to one of his own brothers?
“On guard here?” Marrok mused, his troubled gaze on Lorelai, who reclined in Taron’s arms with her eyes closed, stroking her laircat’s cheek.
“Spit it out, man,” Taron snarled.
“I have seen this before,” Marrok said, placing a finger in the center of his forehead. “Once, when I was
a child in the castle. My parents tried to keep me from seeing, but it was obvious. There was a servant girl who had long wanted one of the groomsmen. One night, at the end of the All Saints’ feast, they had each other. In the morning, she was like this. Maybe something different. It wasn’t her vision; it was a headache, lack of balance, and everything wooden in the room levitated.”
Taron slowly released Lorelai from his arms, placing her gently back on her pillows.
“She and the groomsman were soulmates,” Marrok said. “When they had each other, her mage abilities became apparent. He didn’t have any. She was taken by the seekers the next day. We never saw her again.”
Taron rocked forward on his toes, the air escaping him. How was this possible? Their queen. Their Lorelai. And… “Bruno.” He grunted as he swayed backwards.
“They are soulmates,” Marrok said.
The room was heavy with silence as Taron and Marrok locked eyes.
“She is a mage.” The words came in a strangled whisper from Taron’s mouth.
Both knights stood at the same time. Elba growled as they stormed from the pavilion.
It did not take long for them to find Bruno, who was returning from a ride. As he dismounted, Taron grabbed him by the shoulders, pulled back a colossal arm, and let his fist fly into Bruno’s face. The younger knight took the punch square on the chin and collapsed onto the ground. He lay there, squinting up at Taron.
“I deserve worse than that,” he assented, his face gray as he sprawled in the dirt.
“How could you?” Taron asked, spitting with fury.
“She was having a nightmare,” Bruno said.
“So, you… you…” Marrok choked on his words.
“It was her idea!” Bruno insisted.
“And you couldn’t stop yourself?” Taron reached down and yanked Bruno up by his collar, readying his arm to lay another blow. Marrok stepped between them as Andre raced up, grabbing Taron’s fist.
