Honored Vow

by Mary Calmes

  The crowd parted for him, and he covered the space between us in long strides.

  I lifted my arms to receive him and heard his breath catch as he reached me.

  “Jin,” he growled, and I moaned my pleasure into his ear as he reached me, grabbing me tight and crushing me to his chest.

  “Oh God.” My whimper was torn from me.

  “My mate,” he breathed down the side of my neck, which raised goose bumps on every inch of my skin.

  When he lifted me, hands on my ass as he walked me away from the others, toward the mouth of the cave, I wrapped my legs tight around his back. “This isn’t seemly,” I told him.

  “I don’t give a fuck,” he told me, increasing his pace, the temperature dropping the further we got. “We’re no longer important to anyone but each other, and that’s how I like it.”

  “I wanna go home,” I whined into his shoulder, nuzzling my nose into the crook of his neck, my lips seeking skin, wanting to kiss and lick, suck and nibble.

  “Fuck, you feel good,” he groaned, tightening his arms, savoring the closeness, inhaling my scent, holding me so tight.

  “Wait,” I ordered him when I realized that we had passed through the gate that led outside. The cave was deep, and so from the sentry point, the entrance was another hundred yards away. There was snow on the ground that blew in before you actually hit open air. “You can’t go outside in just your ceremonial robes, you’ll freeze to death.”

  He was wearing white silk and brocade pants and an intricately woven tunic that would offer no protection at all. The boots, like the ones I had been given, were the traditional Mongol ones with the upturned toe, but whereas mine were red, his were black. But still, the wool socks would offer only minutes of protection from the frigid arctic temperature outside.

  “I’ll be in our ger in a few minutes. If I’m carrying you, I can’t freeze. You’ll keep me warm.”

  “Logan—”

  “No,” he told me. “If I don’t get to be alone with you, I’m gonna lose it. I need everything to be over, I’m barely holding it together.”

  I shut up, held him tight, and let him tramp through the powder with me wrapped around him. And he was strong, but he was still quaking with cold by the time we reached the ger.

  Inside, I put him by the stove, grabbed blankets, and wrapped him up before I stripped out of my parka and hat and dropped down into his lap, straddling his thighs.

  He snuggled me close, and we just sat there for a long time, just breathing together, sharing body heat in silence. When his scent finally started tickling my nose, my hands burrowed up under his shirt, sliding over the washboard abs.

  “You want this off?”

  I nodded.

  He reached over his back and pulled the shirt off, his eyes locking on mine when he finished. “Touch me.”

  Immediately my fingers trailed up his rippling torso to his chiseled pectorals.

  “Now you.” His eyes narrowed, became slits of molten gold as he stared at me. “I want skin too.”

  I peeled myself from my cocoon of warmth slowly and enjoyed watching him lick his lips, swallow hard, and stare at me with pleading eyes as I stripped off my layers of clothing. Anyone who came in would have thought the look was carnal, but it was comfort that he was starving for, and closeness, and simply me. He craved my body wrapped around his as tight as I could be, like a second skin. He fisted his hand in my hair and pulled it forward, burying his face in it, inhaling deeply.

  “I always know I’m okay when your hair is in my face and I can smell you all over me.”

  “Logan,” I said breathlessly. “Promise me.”

  “I will never, ever leave your side again. I swear it.”

  I was holding him to that.

  “I need you… closer,” he almost snarled, but it was low, frustrated, not menacing in any way. He was uneasy.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked gently.

  He shook his head.

  “Talk to me.”

  But he couldn’t, or wouldn’t, say what was troubling him.

  “You need something more?”

  His eyes lifted to mine.

  “What do you need?” I stared into all that gold. “To claim me?”

  His thick gold brows furrowed, and I started to have a flicker of understanding.

  “Do you need to know that you’re mine?”

  “Yes,” he said, his voice breaking with relief that I understood.

  “Shall I show you?”

  He wasn’t sure what I meant.

  “Do you trust me?”

  “Of course.”

  I rose then, walked to where my things were, and returned, lube in hand. I could tell just from the subtle change in his gaze that he understood. I recognized the uncertainty on his face, but he didn’t give voice to it, and I was touched by the depth of his faith in me. “Will you give yourself over to me, to my care?”

  He took a quick nervous breath and nodded.

  I had done it in the past, topped other lovers, but never had it meant anything to me, having been instead something that was asked of me that I had simply complied with. It was not instinctive for me; I was built emotionally and mentally to be submissive, but that didn’t mean I had to be. And this was my mate who had asked with beseeching eyes to be claimed. We were men first, but we were also animals, and because of that, sometimes words were not enough to mend the soul. Sometimes it required action and the joining of flesh.

  Logan always gave so much of himself to me—love, compassion, whatever I needed, he provided—and now I wanted to return to him and do for him as he had always done for me.

  Slowly, carefully, I untied the drawstring on his pants, and when I tugged on them, he lifted so I could slide them off. Immediately, I bent and took the tip of the flared head of his cock into my mouth.

  “Jin.” He shivered, inhaling my scent, the flood of pheromones rolling through him, soothing and arousing at the same time.

  As I took in more and more of him, inch by inch, sucking, licking, nibbling, I heard him call my name many more times. I slid my hand up his chest, pushing him down with gentle pressure until he was flat on his back making groaning, whimpering noises that left no doubt that he had given himself completely to me, to whatever I wanted to do.

  His cock popped out of my mouth at the same time I lifted his knee, showing him what I wanted. He bent them both as I opened the tube and squeezed the icy liquid into my palm. Before I coated my fingers, I rubbed it in my hands, warming it, and then leaned over and took his cock down the back of my throat. Normally it was Logan preparing me, loving me, making me burn with need for him. I realized in that instant how deeply I wanted him, the craving to make the man mine almost overwhelming. And I knew that it was the same for him, because I had felt it when he made love to me, every single time.

  My name was a hoarse whisper as I slid up and then sank down, sucking his cock hard, his hand in my hair as he moved it aside so he could watch.

  Tenderly, I slid the tip of a finger around his furled entrance. He tensed, but he didn’t pull away, and as I swallowed the long, hard, thick length of him, tasting precome before my cheeks hollowed out with the force of the suction, I felt him relax against my tender onslaught. I used my other hand to stroke his balls, lift and play with them, and he whimpered as I pushed inside. He was so tight; never had the man been breached before, and I was determined to reward his trust in me even as I marveled at the faith.

  His muscles pulled me deeper inside, and as I pressed forward and up, curling my middle finger, I felt him shudder.

  “That feels so good.”

  I smiled around his pulsing shaft and eased out slowly before adding a second finger, going just as slowly as I had the first time, this time making measured circles, pushing in, easing out, over and over, pegging his gland, and finally scissoring my fingers apart as he began to pant. I was gentle but insistent, relying on past experience as well as the memory of the many times that my mate had brough
t me to release in this exact same way.

  When I again allowed his heavily dripping cock to slip from my lips, I looked down at him, checking his gaze for signs of anything but heat. His eyes were heavy-lidded, he looked drugged, and I noticed his hands fisted at his sides in the blankets.

  “Are you okay?”

  His wet parted lips, the slow rise and fall of his chest, and his beautiful ass with my fingers buried inside of him to the knuckle—the man was giving me heart palpitations.

  “Shall I ride you?” I asked, giving him his out. All he had to do was take it.

  “I….” He swallowed hard and just looked at me, and I understood that my question, suggestion, was not what he wanted or needed.

  “Logan,” I said, running my finger over his gland, watching him go rigid under my hands, one now sliding from balls to head of his cock, the other inside of him.

  “Please, Jin.”

  I drew back, added more lube before I stroked a third finger into him. When I bent once more to the cock that was straining for me, he stopped me before I deep-throated him, only my tongue catching the drops of precome.

  “Am I yours?” he asked me.

  “Yes, only mine.”

  He eased forward then, off my fingers, and I could tell that sliding free was a hard decision to make, because they had felt good. Rolling over onto his stomach, he then lifted his ass for me, spreading his knees at the same time, offering the virgin pink puckered hole.

  “I want to see your face,” I told him.

  “I wanna be marked and fucked and taken,” he rasped back. “Make me yours.”

  I didn’t wait for him to change his mind. I leaned forward, not caring about the lube, and licked over his entrance with my hot, wet tongue.

  He trembled hard, and the moan was loud.

  “No one but me,” I told him.

  “Only you.”

  The second time, I spread his cheeks and pushed inside of him, past the tight rings of muscle, deep, scouring him, pushing in, licking, sucking, nibbling, tasting him, feeling the effect that my ravenous assault was having, the relaxing of his inner walls.

  When I was sure he was close to climax, I coated my own throbbing cock and straightened up, leaning back, my thumbs spreading the cheeks of his beautiful taut ass before I pressed against him.

  “Oh God, Jin, I don’t wanna come without you inside me… please.”

  His hole was lubed and stretched and ready for me, I had made sure.

  “Push out,” I directed and then slowly but without pause pressed into him.

  He was still so tight, and his muscles resisted me, clamped around me like a fist, fighting the imminent breach, but when I took hold of his cock and stroked him, all at once they relaxed, and I was suddenly buried to the balls in his ass. He felt amazing. All that slick velvet heat wrapped around me was almost too much; it took everything in me not to come.

  The tremor that ran through him stopped me from moving even though I wanted to pull out just enough to slam back inside and thrust until I came.

  “Logan, you feel so good,” I told him before I let my fangs fall, upper and lower, curled over that beautiful, broad muscular back, and sank my teeth into the soft skin where his shoulder met his neck.

  It could never be the mark he had given me, for that was the dominion of only a semel, their birthright to brand their true-mate, and my bite would not even leave a scar, but still… he needed to know I wanted to. All the simmering, thrumming desire that had built in me, he had to know that it was all because of him and that he belonged only to me.

  “Oh fuck!” he roared, bucking under me, driving my cock in deeper, my balls plastered to his ass.

  I had to move; I would die if I didn’t. And I would die if I hurt my mate.

  “Oh God, Jin, please.”

  Lifting my mouth, I sucked at the wound I had made, which brought on the sweetest whine I had ever heard, before I grabbed hold of his hips and eased out of his clasping channel.

  “No, don’t––”

  I plunged back inside of him, thrusting hard and deep, and his head fell back as he begged me to do it again.

  The pounding I delivered was merciless, and from the grunts and whimpers and moans, I knew that this, me claiming him, was exactly what he needed.

  “Mine,” I growled before I demanded he jerk himself off.

  He took a quivering breath before he came, splattering the blanket under him, convulsing with his orgasm.

  I shot hot cum deep inside his body, filling him until it dripped down the inside of his thighs, hammering him through his release and mine as he normally did to me. Nothing was so primal as coating my mate’s inner walls, branding him inside and out, and I felt the emotion rise up in me. The feeling had to be the same when the roles were reversed, Logan must have enjoyed possessing me just as much.

  When I collapsed on top of him, because he was bigger and stronger, he didn’t fold under me; instead, he held there until I eased from his body and sat back.

  He dropped down onto the blankets and rolled over on his back. The hooded eyes, flushed face, and sweat-covered skin were enough to make my mouth go dry. The man was a vision of sated passion.

  “Did I hurt you?”

  He shook his head.

  “I claimed you, you’re mine, and you belong only to me.”

  “Only to you,” he said hoarsely, reaching for me, catching my hair, and pulling me close enough so he could fist his hand in it. I was wrenched forward, and when our lips met, the kiss was scorching and devouring as the man mauled my mouth.

  He had submitted to me, trusted me, loved me enough to give himself to me, but there was also never to be a doubt of who was in control. Logan was power and strength and heat; I was his mate, his other half, and so returned softness and soothing calm. He took what he wanted, and I willingly gave, and that truth lived and breathed between us. I would treasure the moment for what it was, a gift, a time when Logan had wanted me to take and I had. We fit seamlessly, and as I was rolled to my back, I wrapped my arms around his neck and held tight.

  “I love you,” he rasped against my lips before the second round began, the blistering kiss, the grinding motion that made my skin so hot I thought it would simply brand him when we touched. “My mate, my reah.”

  I wanted to melt into him, so I tried.

  WE HAD remained alone for as long as we could, Mikhail finally coming to find Logan to have him return to the hall to attend the priest before the funeral rites were performed. I told Logan that I couldn’t go back inside, and he understood, making me promise to stay there and not leave our quarters. I told him that I needed to go for a run, and even though he wasn’t thrilled with the prospect, he understood the need.

  Later that night, I had shifted and was watching from a safe distance as they all stood in a circle under the falling snow and watched as the pyres burned. Panthers were never buried, always cremated for safety and secrecy, but the pyres were an ancient practice that somehow, with all that had transpired, made sense.

  All the fallen were placed side by side: the yareahs, the semel of the tribe of Nebthet, his yareah, and his two men. Ammon El Masry was burned apart from the others, and only Amirah’s body was not present at all, having been burned and the ashes discarded two days prior. It turned out she had no family, so there was no one anywhere to mourn her. That was, for me, the saddest part of her story.

  Once the fire engulfed everything, I watched everyone retreat back inside except for my mate. From where I was, in a shallow cave barely big enough to shelter me, I could see him and the whole valley. It was quiet outside, and peaceful, but what was happening outside had nothing to do with the whirling emotions that were going on inside my head. I wanted to go home and be grounded. I was suddenly so thankful to Logan for making that possible. He’d known that he could kill Ammon in the pit, but more importantly, he also knew that Domin could. I suddenly wanted to know the entire story.

  I couldn’t hear him from where I was, but
I could see him. And when he lifted his arms for me, I was on my feet in seconds.

  He had not seen me run up the side of the mountain days ago, so I made sure to show him. I pushed myself faster, leaped high, and performed the mid-air arc, the dive that turned to running across the new-fallen snow. When I reached him, still in panther form, and landed all over him, pinning him under me to the snow, he was laughing.

  “Holy shit,” he yelled, petting me hard, rubbing, the rumbling sound that came out of him making me purr as I licked the base of this throat. “How the hell did you do that?”

  I was never sure; I just thought things and my body responded.

  “Damn,” he sighed, scratching under my chin. “What can’t you do?”

  But I knew, and so did he: I could not live without him.

  “Don’t worry, okay? That’ll never happen, not with you looking out for me.”

  I shuddered hard and would have shifted, but his gloved hands were suddenly clutching at my fur. “Don’t shift out here; you’ll freeze. Be a good kitty and follow me home, alright?”

  Whatever he wanted.

  THE gathering was informal, but the priest was present, so it was still governed by the laws of hospitality. The semel of Khertet had invited everyone who participated in the sepat into his private quarters, and they were much different from the rest of the cave.

  It was like being inside an enormous tent with partitions behind silk curtains, thick wool rugs that covered the stone floor, another enormous fireplace that warmed the room, lanterns that burned perfumed oil, and soft down pillows to lie on. A feast was laid out on each table, wine was poured, and in the warmth and ease of the evening, inhibitions were shed.

  I had asked Yusuke if she wanted to attend or remain in our quarters, and she was so thankful for the choice that she grabbed my hand tight. She had no desire to ever lay eyes on Narae Hiroshi again, and if I were given the choice, she never would. Crane asked to stay with her, and even though she bowed low and said that he should not remain at her side, her face, when she rose, told a whole other story.