The Mating Ritual: Werewolves of Montana Book 9

by Bonnie Vanak

  After ten orgasms, she sensed him gathering dark power to push him toward completion. They had been here hours, perhaps all night, Gideon’s virility and stamina seemingly endless.

  Gripping her hips, he gave a final, deep thrust and shouted her name as she climaxed again, straining against the coolness of the stone wall. His hot seed jettisoned inside her, his cock slick and throbbing. His climax seemed to go on and on, each wash of his semen sending little pulses of fresh pleasure shooting through her body.

  Sagging from the cuffs, she closed her eyes. Small wonder women in court whispered of the sexual prowess of the Dark Fae. She had never anticipated anything like this, feeling completely and utterly possessed and owned.

  Her arms should ache from the chains, but warmth poured through her muscles. It was his dark magick, she realized. Gideon sent pulses of healing magick into her body, strengthening her for this ritual.

  Tomorrow she would be sore. But for tonight, the hot wash of pleasure that left her languid and drenched in warm body fluids and passion, would carry through to her dreams.

  Gideon unfastened the cuffs and lifted her into his arms. She opened one eye.

  “Are you part incubus?”

  He laughed softly. “No. But I have heard that rumor about Unseelie royals. We are merely trained to give and receive pleasure, and practice using our magick in the art of sex and love, while your court is busy prancing about in jewels and finery at your many balls and feasts.”

  Gideon placed her on her back in the bed’s middle. Kneeling, he parted her thighs.

  The long strokes of his hot tongue nearly made her jolt upright. His mouth was soothing, licking at her quivering female flesh. Warmth poured through her veins, and a languid relaxation settled in her bones. Each lash of his tongue made her quiver with renewed arousal, until she pushed her hips upward in a plea for more.

  The orgasm exploding out of her nearly made her faint, as stars exploded behind her closed eyelids.

  When she finally opened them and lay there panting and exhausted, he climbed over her. Expression fierce, he angled his cock and drove into her once more. This time, face to face, the warm velvet of his penis sliding into her.

  “Look at me,” he demanded.

  His gaze glittered fiercely, with lust and tenderness.

  “See only me, Alia. Your husband. Feel only my touch. I give you my vow, I shall never share my body with another woman.”

  His hands clutched her hips, squeezing tight as he reared back with a groan, tendons and cords on his strong neck tensing from the violence of his climax.

  Panting, Gideon collapsed upon her, his sweat-slicked body heavy, yet comforting. Alia stroked his damp hair.

  Her husband.

  I cannot do this. How can I bring him any harm after what we have shared this night?

  Slowly, he separated their bodies and she felt cold and alone. Gideon lifted her, tucking her beneath the silk sheets and wool blanket.

  Then he dropped a singular sweet kiss on her brow. “Rest, my sweet. Tomorrow night we will spend only an hour or two in bed.”

  “And the night after?” she mumbled.

  A twinkle lit his eyes. “I will introduce you to the delights of having sex in public, without anyone seeing what you are feeling. There are tiny pearls I will insert deep into your passage, pearls that pulse against your most sensitive tissues. You will learn to cloak your reaction so no one realizes you are being pleasured.”

  His fingers lightly splayed over her mound. “It will feel as if I am deep inside you, my hand rubbing between your legs. You will learn the art of control, conversing with nobles of the court as the pearls bring you to a shattering orgasm.”

  Alia’s breath fled her. “I cannot.”

  “You will,” he said, his voice carrying a hint of darkness. “And there is much more to marriage to me. We will be utterly respectable and civil by day, and indulge in sexual deviance by night. Each night brings a new sensation.”

  Alia’s eyes closed.

  But as he leaned over to give her a tender kiss, she thought she spotted tenderness in a gaze, softening his smile of pure male satisfaction.

  6

  As the soft rose-gold colors of dawn streaked the skies, Gideon left the bed and his sleeping bride.

  Dark, silky hair spilling over the pillow, Alia slept deeply. He had pleasured her long into the night, and her stamina pleased him, along with her tiny cries of excitement as he’d driven himself deep into her.

  They were well and truly bound together now as husband and wife. Alia was spirited and beneath the meek demeanor fired passion and courage. She might wear skirts as dictated by her chauvinistic sire’s rules, but she had the courage of a warrior. Standing up to her father last night to feed the hungry wilding Fae had shown him exactly what type of woman he’d married.

  I could fall in love with you, Alia.

  He made himself tea, bringing it outside to the back porch. Gideon sipped the brew, relishing the taste. As an immortal wizard, he had no need for food to fuel his body. Sometimes he ate at formal dinners when the Brehon were invited, but he barely tasted anything. Now, when food and fuel were necessary, he found himself returning to the Fae delicacies he’d enjoyed as a mortal.

  Sex last night with Alia had been immensely satisfying and slightly disturbing on the most visceral level.

  He had intended the ritual to be nothing but physical pleasure for them both. Instead, as he joined his body to hers, he felt their souls entwine. Her sweet Fae song as she cried out his name as she’d climaxed touched his heart in a manner no woman had done.

  Not since Eleanor.

  He would not, nay, could never forget his sacred vow to love only Lady Eleanor. But Alia, with her fierce will to live, her sweetness, courage and her natural sensuality, threatened to break that ancient vow.

  Restless, he went to the stone bench that overlooked the bubbling fountain in the center of the pond set among the garden roses. Stones and ferns ringed the water, and fairies skimmed the surface, occasionally dipping their wings to create tiny ripples.

  Alia hid something from him, something quite important. With his wizard powers, he could easily rip it from her mind. But even if he had those, he was loath to do so. Fae minds could be quite fragile and he would not wish to harm her.

  He’d seen her gentle nature with the forest folk, the sadness in her eyes when he’d asked about her mother and siblings. Alia did not seem violent nor dull-witted as some in her father’s court. Her spirit was strong, reminding him of another woman with a frail body but an indomitable soul.

  Once, not long after he’d become the Crimson Wizard, he’d asked Danu what had happened to Eleanor. The goddess had only replied that she slept until the proper time for her to be awakened.

  After that nebulous answer, he never inquired again.

  Making love with Alia had been exquisite. Even now he could smell the scent of her skin, feel the hot, wet tightness of her sheath gripping the smooth flesh of his cock. Gideon set down the teacup and a pink-winged fairy landed on the rim, fluttering her wings. He poured some into the saucer and she sipped. Then hiccupped.

  Laughing, he shook his head. “You should know better. Primrose tea makes fairies drunk.”

  The fairy sat on the bench beside him, fluttering her wings. Suddenly she increased to the size of a small adult. The fairy beat her iridescent dragonfly wings of pink and red, fanning the air. Pink roses were woven through her white-blonde hair, and a pink and silver gown with capped sleeves covered her slender body, ending at mid-thigh. Her feet remained bare, but wreathed in garlands of pink and white roses.

  “Sire, why are you here? What reason brings you to the Seelie Court that you would leave Tir Na-nog to marry a mere mortal? You are the Crimson Wizard.”

  He sucked in a breath. Of course Ariel would know his true identity. Danu warned him those extremely close to him were immune to the glamour spell. Ariel had served him well in the Unseelie world when he was mortal and when h
e became the Crimson Wizard, she served him in Tir na-Nog. Ariel was permitted to live in both, for she was as immortal as he. She commanded a squadron of warrior fairies who protected the woodlands and mountains.

  “The goddess has her reasons, Ariel, and you must keep your counsel. I trust you and your legion of fairies will not share this knowledge of my real identity.”

  She dipped her head, making her curls bounce. “The Fae of the Summer Court naught listen to us anyway, unlike those of the Winter Court. They are too pompous and self-important to consort with our kind.”

  “Except when you force them to listen.” He had no doubt about Ariel’s abilities to hold the peace.

  Ariel lifted her chin and gazed into the dark forest. “We need you here, sire. There is a horrible darkness leeching into this land. We have tried our best to keep it at bay, but it spreads like a fungus infecting tree bark. There is little we can do. Only a powerful member of the Brehon can defeat it.”

  “I have temporarily lost my powers,” he told her. Honesty was best with the fairies.

  She gave him a look far wiser than her eight hundred years. “I know. Power is an illusion at times. Cunning and courage will aid you here more than the strongest magick. If you love Alia true, you will gain a power far greater than your deepest dreams.”

  He sighed and traced a rune in the air, making the lines glitter and sparkle like a tiny firework. “I cannot love another woman. My heart lies with my lady Eleanor.”

  “Alia is so much deserving of love. She is a good Fae, sire.” Ariel frowned. “You had best treat her with loving tenderness and never hurt her, or I shall hurt you.”

  Opening her pink mouth, she bared a set of tiny, very sharp fangs.

  Amused at the idea of his loyal fairy standing up to him, he touched one of the deadly fangs. A droplet of dark green glistened on his finger. Gideon shook it off and the acid sank into the earth with a hiss.

  “I gave you those fangs, remember? And your poison. I gave them to you and the other fairies.”

  Ariel licked her lips. “My fangs cannot pierce the evil riddling this kingdom, sire. You must vanquish it before all the Fae of the Summer Kingdom succumb.”

  He frowned. “What power do you sense?”

  “I cannot pinpoint it.” Ariel looked troubled. “But the heaviness in the air grows stronger each day and there are reports from my fairies that even the neutral territory may be infected.”

  “I will do what I must, Ariel.”

  Admiration shone in her eyes. “You always do, sire. You are the wisest Crimson Wizard I have ever served.”

  “I am the only Crimson Wizard you have ever served,” he said dryly.

  Laughing, she fluttered her wings, then rose into the air. She vanished into the dark forest.

  Gideon watched, amused at the twinge of envy over the fairy’s skill at flight. He missed the magick he wielded as the Crimson Wizard. Flick a finger and all was at your disposal.

  Perhaps Danu was right. He had grown too comfortable, too reliant upon his powers and let his other senses lapse. He was a being bound by duty to his people, and used magick for their greater good.

  But perhaps there was another way.

  When he returned inside, Alia was in the kitchen, stirring a cup of tea in a fine bone china cup. The rose pink dressing robe complimented her fair coloring, and matched the becoming blush on her cheeks. Her long dark hair was unbound, spilling down her backside. She moved, and the robe opened slightly, giving him a glimpse of one shapely leg, still clad in the soft white lace stockings of their wedding night.

  Gideon dropped a kiss on her cheek. “Good morning, my sweet.”

  She offered a shy smile. “I never sleep past dawn. I’m sorry.”

  Gideon frowned. “For sleeping? Don’t apologize. You were tired.”

  “I should have risen first, made you breakfast…”

  Troubled by the concern in her voice, Gideon gestured to the table. He did not want her worried about serving him.

  “Sit.”

  When she did, he took her hand. “Alia, I don’t know, nor do I care, what other Fae in this kingdom expect of their wives. Our marriage will be different. I don’t expect you to make me breakfast, nor wait on me hand and foot like a servant. I’m perfectly capable of making my own meals.”

  Her eyes were so blue, as pretty as a summer sky, but shadows lurked within. He wondered what truly troubled her.

  “What do you expect of me, my lord?” A deeper flush on her cheeks. “Other than in the marriage bed.”

  “I expect you to call me Gideon. I expect you to sleep when you are tired, to be honest with me if I put too much strain on you when we have sex, and not wait on me like a servant. The rest we’ll make the rules as we go along. Agreed?” He kissed her hand, feeling the softness of her skin beneath his mouth.

  Lines of strain around her mouth eased and her slender shoulders lost some of the rigid tension. “I can work with that.”

  “I believe we must make an appearance today before your father, but that will fulfill our obligations as a married couple in court for a month.”

  Her mouth wobbled. “Yes. I will be honest and tell you I am not looking forward to the presentation. It is much pomp, circumstance and sly looks and whispers amongst the court about the groom’s prowess in bed the previous night.”

  She gave a desultory stir to the tea he’d placed for her on the table. Gideon waited. He had patience. In his fourteen hundred years of living, he’d learned to wait.

  Finally she set down the spoon. “The custom was, until a year ago, one that was joyful and celebratory in court. The married couple would present themselves to my father, who would give them a splendid gift. The nobles of the court, if the marriage was a royal one, would provide the food for a wedding breakfast and the fairies and sprites all showered the couple with magick to wish them well in their married life together. Now it has devolved into crude comments and gestures and the fairies and sprites are no longer welcome.”

  Gideon nodded. “Then we will present ourselves to your father and court, but there is no need for us to remain for a meal where it is certain we will both get indigestion. Unless your father plans to entertain us by serving us and then doing handsprings.”

  As he winked, she laughed. “I would like to see that. He would be more likely to do handsprings than serve anyone, least of all a lowly daughter.”

  Gideon kissed her hand again. “You are not lowly, my sweet. Never.”

  Her expression softened. “You are good to me, Gideon.”

  Someone should be. She deserved plenty of pampering, lots of kisses and love…

  Love I can never give.

  His heart twisted painfully at the thought. Gideon shuttered his expression. “Finish your tea and then we’ll go to the palace.”

  An hour later, Alia felt her stomach knot as she and her new husband entered the lavish throne room. Only a handful the highest ranking nobles were present before King Oren. She reminded herself to stay on her toes in this court and never let down her guard.

  Certainly not in front of her new husband.

  There was a ruthlessness about him, a tight control that screamed sexual skills in bed. Gideon could caress a woman’s nape and then snap a neck in the next heartbeat. It had more to do with his own personal magick than simply being Unseelie.

  The dark and terrible power he radiated came from another source, not mere royalty of the Winter Court. Gideon’s magick pulsed like a heartbeat, a barely sheathed sword.

  As they drew closer, and then were bid by a page to wait, Alia was startled to see her father looking…old.

  True, the king was quite advanced in years, but he trembled and his hand shook as he raised it to sip from the goblet offered by a page. She glanced at her husband, and Gideon’s mouth flattened and his gaze sharpened as he studied her father.

  So, he’d noticed as well.

  Almost subconsciously, as if seeking reassurance, she slipped her hand into Gideon’s.
He looked startled for a moment, then pleased. He gave a little nod. Alia took a deep breath and they approached the high dais.

  As she curtseyed, Gideon gave a small, informal bow. Her breath hitched. Such rudeness would catch her father’s attention. He demanded full honor and all Fae in his court must bow from the waist, not merely incline their head.

  Would the king demand punishment for her new husband? But as she furtively watched Oren’s reaction, she realized the king had barely noticed. His attention was focused on the goblet as the uniformed page sprinkled something into the drink.

  “More,” the king rasped.

  Hand shaking, the page opened the packet and poured more of the substance. Oren reached for it with greedy hands. He gulped down the contents, smacked his lips. Then he leaned back with a sigh and closed his eyes, gripping the armrests of his ornate, hand carved wood throne. It was as if they were not even there.

  No murmurs amongst the nobles or the court. Alia had not spent much time here, and she suspected they were accustomed to this bizarre behavior.

  Gideon narrowed his eyes. She was used to waiting on the king, but her husband was a prince and held his own status.

  “King Oren,” her husband said in a strong, deep voice.

  The king opened his eyes. “What?”

  Gasps amongst the court, except for a few nobles, who sniggered. They were quickly hushed when Gideon turned, sweeping them with a contemptuous look.

  “Your Majesty, are you well?” Gideon asked in a louder voice.

  Her father cleared his throat. His hands no longer trembled and he no longer held onto the throne as if for support. “Of course I am, impertinent pup,” he snapped, his expression filled with anger and his usual impatience.

  Gideon inclined his head again. “My apologies, majesty. You looked a trifle ill and I was concerned for your health.”

  So smooth. A diplomat. But Alia knew contempt flashed in Gideon’s eyes as he lowered his gaze. Yet his expression was carefully blank as he lifted his head once more.