by Brenna Lyons
“No. That is for me to do,” he breathed.
Regana nodded, though she had no idea what he had in mind. Jörg practically dragged her clothing from her body the first few times he had her. After that, he asked her to remove them right away. Always, his need to have her unclothed for him was of paramount importance.
Pauwel settled on the bed with her, and his hand cupped her face. “Can I show you, now, how it has always been between us?” he asked seriously.
“Yes,” she breathed. “Please show me. Put your child in me all over again.”
Pauwel groaned as his lips brushed hers lightly. “Slowly,” he crooned. “Let me love you slowly.”
“You always have,” she replied softly.
“Yes, I have.”
He sank his mouth to capture hers. Pauwel pulled her to him, causing her breasts to rub his chest through the fabric of her dress. Regana gasped against his lips as her nipples hardened in response to even that minor contact.
“The red baby’s wool,” he mused. “I want you in the red baby’s wool with fur at your neck and the amber pendant for the joining ceremony. Promise me.”
“Yes, I saw it in the trunk. If it fits—”
“It will,” he assured her.
Pauwel captured her mouth again, parting her lips to explore every inch of her mouth with painstaking care. By the time he eased her back to the bed and moved his attentions to her throat and lower — to the neckline of her dress, Regana’s need was an urgent, aching burn in the very core of her.
He smiled down at her. “You’re not convinced yet,” Pauwel crooned. “You will be by the time I’m through.”
“But,” she started to protest.
His hand covered her mouth lightly. “I know we shouldn’t,” he purred against her ear,” but I must have you.”
Regana nodded her agreement. Pauwel wanted to play as if the past had never happened, as if he was actually seducing his child into her now. She groaned as his hands played at her breasts, making them harden for him, while his mouth explored her throat and face.
She let the sensations draw her away from reality. Jörg never existed for her. Pauwel was so caught up in his madness that he pursued her and was seeking to make her his. When his mouth closed over her breast, she bit back a cry of pleasure, the illusion of the forbidden almost more than she could bear.
“It’s all right,” he soothed her. “You don’t have to hide from anyone. We’re all alone here.”
He returned to his ministrations, and she did cry out as he took her breast in his mouth again.
“That’s better, isn’t it?” he asked.
“Pauwel,” she pleaded.
“Let me convince you,” he breathed, as he licked her taut nipple through the fabric of her dress.
Regana moved her hands up the wall of his chest, committing the play of muscles to memory. She explored his back and arms and pulled the thong from his hair to run her fingers through the depths of it. No touch, no matter how he reacted to it, speeded his exploration of her. She moved her hand down his chest to continue her own exploration, and he stilled as she encountered the thick length of him straining against his trews. Tentatively, she outlined him with her fingers.
Pauwel shuddered and removed her hand, kissing her fingers. “Not yet,” he pleaded in a hoarse voice. “You don’t know what you are doing to me.”
He shifted away to scoop his hands beneath her skirts. Pauwel drew them up slowly, caressing her legs as she was slowly uncovered to his hungry eyes. Regana shifted her hips to help him unclothe her, but he shook his head. Instead, Pauwel drew her astride his lap with her skirts pooled around her hips and kissed her thoroughly, anchoring her against him so she could feel the evidence of how much he wanted her.
Regana cried out harshly in her longing and arched to him. “Please, Pauwel,” she begged hopelessly. “You have convinced me. Please—”
He ran his fingers over the sensitive center of her, wet and wanting him. “Not unready,” he whispered. “You must be ready for me, dear one.” Pauwel slid his hands up her stomach beneath her dress, his thumbs playing at the underside of her breasts as his fingers splayed out over her ribs. “This dress limits me. Are you convinced enough to let me remove it?”
“Yes,” she breathed.
Pauwel skated the material over her head smoothly and tossed it away. His breathing was ragged and his eyes wide as he took in the sight of her disrobed before him. For some strange reason, Regana had to fight back the urge to cover herself, and she blushed deeply.
He looked at her in amazement and ran his hand over her cheek. “I won’t hurt you. I promise I won’t,” he crooned. “You’re so innocent.”
Regana started to protest, but he captured her lips to still the flow of words.
“Your body tells me the truth,” he assured her. “No experienced woman covers herself and blushes.”
She didn’t argue the point with him. Pauwel affected her in a way she had never anticipated. Regana stopped considering it, as he set about his exquisite torture of her again.
His fingers caressed her, playing at the slick center of her being as his mouth pulled at the peaks of her nipples, swirling his tongue or drawing her deep into his mouth to punctuate the other movements he lured her in with. Regana threw her head back and cried out wildly in her pleasure, as he pulled her further onto his fingers and brushed her against his stiff member in the same movement. Pauwel’s hand and mouth drew her higher.
“Please, Pauwel. I am ready,” she begged of him.
“Not yet. It is a special favor I ask. You are not ready. You will be soon.”
Regana panted as she arched further to him and wrapped her hands around his head to cradle him to her breast. Her body was reaching for something just out of sight. Regana moved against him hopelessly, seeking something she couldn’t put a name to.
She cried out in shock, as the strap pulled taut within her exploded into a shower of shards. Pauwel’s face clarified before her, as all else spun away. Regana gripped his shoulders and stared into his eyes, using him as an anchor as the rest of her mind seemed ripped away by a fierce wind. Still, it wasn’t over. The pleasure inside her built and released over and over until she felt she might go mad from it.
When it abated at last, Regana lay limp against Pauwel’s chest, trying to hold the last vestiges of the powerful sensation to her in case it never came again. She realized that tears stained her cheeks though she had no memory of shedding them.
“Now,” Pauwel assured her, “you are ready, and now you are experienced.”
Regana smiled weakly and laid a lingering kiss against the mat of black curls that covered his chest. “What could I possibly be ready for after that?” she teased.
He laughed lightly. “I still have a seed to plant. I want you to carry my child, Regana. Have I convinced you?” he crooned.
“You’ve convinced me, but I won’t survive more,” she pleaded.
“We have time.” He laid her on the bed and curled around her. “When you’ve recovered, I’ll ask again.”
Regana was half-lost to sleep when she realized that Pauwel hadn’t taken her for himself. He hadn’t taken release at all. He had given her the most precious, wonderful thing she had ever experienced with no payment in return and no push for that repayment even though his need was crucial.
* * *
Pauwel ran his hand over Regana’s cheek, and she favored him with a warm smile as she stretched against him.
“I’m sorry. How long have I slept?” she asked.
“Not long. About an hour, I would guess, but you needed it. Such a heated reaction is very tiring.” His hands traced her breast as if not of his control.
“I noticed. Is that what it is like for men?”
“Sometimes.” Pauwel leaned to run his lips over her forehead. “I won’t ask if you’ve ever experienced that before. I know from your reactions that you haven’t.”
Regana blushed deeply. “I’m glad it was wi
th you.”
“So am I,” he admitted. “I would like to say I wish you’d had the experience before, because you deserved to know such a thing existed, but I can’t. I’m glad I could give you something so precious.”
“There’s something else you can give me, something just as precious,” she offered.
“What would that be?” he asked honestly.
“Give me your child to carry.”
Pauwel sucked in his breath, as the full force of that statement hit him. “Are you recovered?” he asked.
She smiled wickedly. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt better,” she assured him.
He took a deep breath to calm his nerves.
Regana drew a hand over his cheek. “Take me, Pauwel. I know tenderness, now. You can show me tenderness anytime it pleases you. It would certainly make me happy if you do, but I have been well pleased today. What would please you?”
Pauwel groaned and sank to his back, drawing her with him. He planted his lips in the center of the palm pressed to his face before placing it on the already-hard length of himself. “Undress me.”
Regana furrowed her brow for a moment before she started removing his trews. It was another new experience for her, he realized. There seemed no end to the experiences she hadn’t had. Jörg had months to teach her, to experiment with finding all the things that would truly excite her. He didn’t. Pauwel was not about to make the same mistake.
He wouldn’t ask her. He had drawn enough attention to the shortcomings in that relationship already. Like everything else, Pauwel would experiment, and his expressive bride would tell him all he needed to know by her reactions alone. Still, he guessed that his opinion of Veriel would not be enriched by the knowledge.
His trews removed, Regana took in the sight of him. She met his eyes bashfully as she ran her fingertips through the thick mat of dark curls that surrounded his manhood. “What do you want?” she invited.
Pauwel panted for self-control, as her fingers teased the sensitive length of him. “I want you to touch me however you want to touch me,” he managed, praying that her exploration of him would continue to be as invigorating as it had been so far.
She smiled crookedly and wrapped her small hand around the thickness of him. Regana watched his face while her hand moved in maddening strokes and caresses. She explored the entire nest of his shaft from the curls and his hardening sac to the rigid length, pulsing at her touch. She leaned over him, tracing her mouth over the strata of muscles on his chest and the outline of his blood mark, laying a long lick over his flat nipples that threatened to bring him off the bed. Still, Pauwel knew that everything she was doing was new to her, exciting in the reactions she was producing in him.
Regana leaned over him further, her hair tickling his chest and stomach and mingling with his own curls at the base of his cock. Finally, her mouth reached his throat; her breasts brushed against his chest, swelling again though he was not the one doing the teasing. Her hand continued the endless stroking that stoked his blood until Pauwel felt he would turn to ash if he didn’t have her immediately. Regana rose higher still, leaned full out over him to reach his jawline and lips with her exploring mouth. His cock brushed into the damp curls deep in the cleft between her thighs, her hand still stroking further down the shaft.
“Enough,” he breathed as he drew her legs astride him.
Pauwel guided her down over himself smoothly, moaning in ecstasy as her muscles contracted around him. Regana threw her head back and closed her eyes as he filled her. She moved experimentally, moaning at the feeling of him deep inside her.
She met his eyes in a stunned sort of fascination. “What do I do?” she whispered.
Pauwel spanned her waist with both hands and guided her, meeting her with long, smooth thrusts. His pace increased, as she started making sounds of intense pleasure. Her hands gripped his arms, a mute plea burning in her dark eyes.
He held back for her. Pauwel hadn’t realized that she could climax for him again so soon after the first, but he was determined to wait for her now that it was a reality in the making. He reveled in the fact that Regana lost control so completely the first time, and he wanted to taste that reaction again.
Pauwel knew she had no idea what she was doing and saying, which made the fact that Regana begged Pauwel to hold her at her moment of complete vulnerability all the more compelling to him. She wept. She held to him.
He sobered slightly. Regana begged him never to leave her, to stay with her forever. His printing had fairly screamed at her agreement, demanded him to seal her to him immediately, but he’d waited. That encounter had been intended for Regana alone. And, he would wait again, ensuring her bliss before he made her his own.
Pauwel made it — barely. His control was slipping and the edges of the vortex drawing him in when the feeling of her muscles contracting around him propelled him over. He screamed her name, as the blackness took him from her momentarily.
He came back slowly, drawing his arms around her and holding her close to his pounding heart. “We have our baby, Regana,” he whispered into her hair.
“Are you sure?” she teased. “Perhaps, we should keep trying to be certain.”
Pauwel groaned. “Don’t tempt me, woman. If I thought it would please you, I would take you endlessly, every waking moment.”
She placed her chin on her folded arms and looked down at him, considering something seriously. “We have to eat, and Gawen will not let you hide from training. I think we could manage that otherwise.”
The sound of arguing closed on them, and Regana tried to pull away.
Pauwel held her to his chest and swept a thick fur over them both. “It’s Gawen,” he informed her in a gleeful tone. “This should stop his interfering, don’t you think?”
She stifled a laugh and buried her face in his shoulder.
“Come now, my love. I think welcoming your brother while I am still happily buried in you will work wonders for the man,” he teased, while she tried desperately to still the amusement hitching in her chest.
“I told you, he doesn’t want to see you right now,” Kethe exploded.
“Out of my way. I will speak with Pauwel whether he likes it or not.” The door swung open, while Gawen was still looking over his shoulder at the young woman behind him. “Now Pauwel, if you think you can hide behind a woman—” he started to storm, turning his head toward them. Gawen turned a deep crimson and took a step back, sucking in his breath in surprise.
Pauwel laughed heartily. “Gawen, excuse my lapse. I should rise to greet you, but I am indisposed at the moment. Dear one, your brother is here.”
Regana gave up trying to control her laughter and shook in her mirth. “Hello, Gawen,” she managed into her husband’s shoulder.
“Was there a reason you came here at so unfortunate a moment — again? Really, Gawen! Twice in one day? We must work on your timing,” he chided.
Regana burst into a new gale of laughter, and Pauwel groaned in response, her sheath vibrating around his half-erect length and spurring him back to readiness. Her laughter hitched in response, and she turned her face up to his, her eyes hungry.
Oh, yes. Dismissing Gawen was necessary.
“I — came to speak with you about the incident with Cunczel today,” the master trainer stammered, thankfully staring at a spot on the wall so the exchange between them escaped his notice.
“A momentary lapse that won’t happen again.” He looked at Regana meaningfully. “Ever again, Gawen. I promise I’ve taken care of my appalling lack of control for good.”
“I can see that. I’m glad. I should go, now.”
“Stay for dinner. Kethe won’t mind, I’m sure. If you’ll excuse us, my wife and I need to dress — in a moment.”
Gawen glanced at them in wonder. “I think I’ll do that.” He backed out of the room and closed the door firmly behind him.
Regana met Pauwel’s gaze, eyes glittering and crimson all the way down her lovely body from her laughte
r. “You have an evil streak in you,” she accused.
Pauwel smiled wickedly. “I’ll show you evil,” he promised, flipping her beneath him and burying his face in her hair and his shaft within her while she squealed in delight. He kissed her passionately, excited now and moving toward another release, while Regana smiled up at him and arched against him. Pauwel groaned in his release and sank over her to lay another kiss on her swollen lips. “Let Gawen wonder,” he joked with a raised eyebrow.
* * * *
Jörg knew that something had changed. There was a subtle shift that disturbed him.
He had actively avoided looking in on Regana since the night Resten died. Even before that, he had avoided more than passing glimpses of her. It wasn’t just that Jörg couldn’t touch her, which was torture in itself, but also that seeing her unhappy — or worse, seeing her fear him was more than he could bear.
Now, Jörg had to act. Regana’s amulet kept him from reading her thoughts as he did with her that first morning. For that, he had been thankful until now. Only powerful emotions like intense pain or terror seemed to seep through to him, while she wore it. Still, he had felt those emotions from her often enough. So far, only the night Resten came for her had proven something requiring Jörg’s intervention. The other times, he had ghosted in to assure himself that Regana was whole and sound and ghosted away without incident.
Now something was seriously amiss. Jörg couldn’t identify the emotion emanating from her, but he knew that what he felt were occasional bursts of something exceedingly powerful. Waiting until the land had fallen to darkness was a maddening exercise. Once the night was dark and thick, Jörg took wing on the wind to KlingeStütze.
For a long moment, he stared at the bare bed in disbelief and panic. Regana couldn’t be dead. If she were, the horrors he would rain down on those responsible would be the stuff of legends! Then, Jörg would seek his death in any way he could. No, she couldn’t be dead, he reasoned. Surely, he would have felt such a thing. The fact that he sensed nothing of Regana at the moment was simply a sign of her amulet.
