Secrets Vol 1

by Hamre-Gaines-Landon-LeGendre

  He touched her breast, not roughly but without his usual tenderness. "This is what you want, isn't it?" he whispered.

  "No, it isn't," she answered.

  He straightened and glared down at her. "Don't deny it, Kareth. I've been with you. I know what you want. You want a handsome-man of your own, someone you can keep enslaved to pleasure you."

  "That's not true," she gasped. And it wasn't. Dendra help her, it wasn't.

  "You're no better than Eria," he gritted. "Worse, maybe. At least

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  she dealt with me honestly."

  "Curse you, Thiele, I am dealing with you honestly. I want to help you. I want you to be free."

  "No, you don't. This is what you want." He gripped her breast more tightly, rubbing his thumb over the cloth of her bodice until the nipple beneath grew hard to the point of pain.

  "Stop that," she ordered.

  "And this," he growled, moving his hand to the place where her legs met. He groped her roughly through her gown, pulling at her sex in a cruel parody of their usual intimacy.

  She slapped him, hard. The sound of the blow rang out, echoing off the walls of the tiny cottage. He reeled under it, taking a few steps backwards. His eyes filled with emotion, first surprise and then rage and finally pain.

  She brought her fingers to her mouth and stared back at him, pleading with her eyes for him to understand. She hadn't meant to hurt him. But she couldn't let him do that to her, touch her in anger that way.

  His stared back, and his jaw clenched, as if holding words inside him that he didn't dare let out. After a moment he turned and strode toward the door.

  "Don't go," she cried. "We can get your collar off—together—if only you'll believe we can."

  "I believe nothing," he snarled. He yanked the door open, slamming it against the wall. Then he stepped outside and walked down the path until he disappeared among the trees and ferns.

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  CHAPTER FOUR

  He came back a few hours later, looking subdued and thoroughly ashamed of himself. He stood on the threshold, his hand still on the doorknob, and gazed at her out of little-boy eyes. As though he didn't know whether she'd welcome him in or slap him again.

  She ought to slap him, of course. She ought to let him know beyond any doubt how boorishly he had acted. But the look of him took her breath away, as usual. And he actually had managed a blush of contrition. How could she stay angry with him?

  "I'm sorry," he said finally. "You'll forgive me?"

  "I already have."

  "I have to trust you, after all you've done for me. I do trust you."

  She smiled and nodded.

  "It's just so hard sometimes..." He gripped his collar in his fist. "This thing..."

  "I know."

  "Perhaps you do. You care so much, perhaps you do." He cleared his throat and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "I've made you a present."

  "In the short time you've been gone?"

  He smiled shyly. "Actually, I've been working on them for days now. They're not much." He reached inside his shirt and pulled out two tiny figurines—wood carvings. Of birds.

  "The curo-curas," she exclaimed.

  He closed the door, walked to her, and put the little figures in her hand. "I know how you love that loud pair."

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  Almost as much as I love you. No, please, no. She couldn't love him. He had to leave her, and she didn't dare love him. "Thank you, Thiele," she whispered.

  "They're crude, I'm afraid. And I couldn't capture the colors at all."

  She stared at the figures in herhand. He'd done an wonderful job—smoothing the wood to a fine texture and depicting the curo-curas in a life-like pose. He even had the crests right, the male's more prominent than the female's. "They're beautiful. But I don't have a gift for you."

  "No matter." His smile grew into a grin, and the light of mischief she adored entered his eyes. "Now that I'm forgiven, maybe you'll sit with me for a while."

  "Of course."

  He took her hand and led her to the chair. Once there, he dropped into it and pulled her down into his lap. She half expected to feel the familiar hardness against her hip. She usually did when she sat with him this way. But it wasn't there this afternoon. Instead he nuzzled his face into her hair and hugged her close, seemingly content simply to hold her.

  "I will have to leave, little one," he murmured. "Whether we get this collar off me or not."

  And he would, she knew that. Thiele would never be safe anywhere near Rabal's domain, no matter where he hid. And she would have to go back to her contemplative life. But a tiny voice inside her cried out to know why. Why couldn't he just stay? Why couldn't they live together, sharing kisses and heartbeats, until they died in each other's arms?

  "If the catchers find me with you, they'll take you, too," he said. "They're not much easier on people who help escaped churls than they are on the churls themselves."

  She set the bird carvings in her lap and slipped her arms around Thiele's neck. "I don't care about that."

  "But I do. I didn't when I arrived here, much to my shame. But I do now." He sighed against her skin. "Kareth, Kareth, you make me feel things...want things. Impossible things."

  She pulled back and stroked his face. "Like what?"

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  He gazed at her, the green of his eyes so deep she could drown in it. "Like taking you with me."

  "I couldn't go.” She couldn't. She hadn't even begun to explore her inner life, the hungers and the failings that had brought her here. If she didn't know herself, how could she give herself to anyone else? Even to Thiele?

  "And I couldn't take you to the outside," he said. "It's a wild place. People live in mud huts and slit each other's throats for no reason at all."

  "So I've heard. Do you suppose the stories are true?"

  "That doesn't matter. With no wealth, I couldn't offer you anything, not even protection."

  She trailed her fingers along his jaw. "And if you were wealthy?"

  "But I'm not."

  "Pretend," she murmured. "Pretend you had taken all of Lady Eria's jewels with you when you ran away."

  "Ah, pretend is it?"

  She shrugged. "You know, a game."

  "Well, then..." He tipped back his head and studied the ceiling. "If I had all of Lady Eria's jewels...let me see...I'd give them to you."

  "No," she said, nudging him in the ribs. "That isn't very creative."

  "I'll try again." He squeezed his eyes tightly closed, as though the effort taxed his brain. "I know. I'd use the jewels to start up a smuggling operation—liquors from the outside into Rabal's domain and churls from the inside out." He opened his eyes and grinned at her. "Very profitable business, smuggling."

  "And very daring," she said. "Very like you."

  "Then I'd set myself up as a border lord. I'd build the most fantastical castle for you, with huge banners flying from the turrets and with sharp-toothed rudwurms."

  "And what would I do while you were accomplishing all this?"

  "Nothing but satisfy my lust," he answered, his eyes sparkling. "I wouldn't have anyone in the castle with us—not even servants— until I'd ravished you in every one of its rooms."

  "Dendra," she exclaimed. "How may rooms would it have?"

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  "Dozens," he answered. "Hundreds."

  "And you'd have your way with me in each of them? Even the kitchen?"

  "Especially the kitchen. I'd bend you over the work table and take you with the smell of baking bread in my nostrils."

  She shoved his shoulder. "And who'd bake that bread, I'd like to know? And feed the livestock and wash the floors? And all the other chores?"

  "I hadn't thought of that."

  She harumphed. "Just like a man. You work your women near to death all the while insisting you keep us in the lap of luxury."

  His slipped his fingers around
her waist and rocked her gently. "We'd have servants, then. But they'd have to stay out of sight. And I couldn't let them see you."

  "Why in Dendra's name not?"

  His grin broadened and a gleam entered his eyes that was absolutely evil. "Because I'd keep you half-naked all the time. That's why. So I could always look at you."

  Her cheeks flamed, and she squirmed in his lap. "Thiele..."

  "No more than ribbons and scraps of shalisse." He slid his hand over her shoulder. "Hanging from here, over your breasts, your beautiful breasts." His fingers trailed down the valley between her breasts to her belly. "Covering your hips but loosely so that the smallest draft would lift the material and expose you to me."

  "You'd like that, would you?" she said.

  He smiled and parted his lips. She kissed them, using the moves he had taught her in their days together. Breathing into his mouth in exactly the way she knew would arouse him. It worked. He rubbed himself against her, and his swelling manhood pressed into her hip.

  "You'd like to have me naked?" she murmured against his mouth. "Even if I got cold?"

  "I'd keep you hot," he answered, his voice husky with desire. "Always and forever hot."

  "Then I do have a present for you, after all." She picked up the carved birds in her lap and rose. "Close your eyes, and don't open

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  them until I tell you to."

  He squeezed his eyes shut, and Kareth walked to the wardrobe. She placed his presents carefully on top, opened the door, and leaned inside to rummage around in the bottom. After a moment her fingers found the parcel where she had hidden it on her first day in the forest. She'd bought the thing in a dark little shop, meaning to wear it for Jahn. But in the end, she hadn't had the chance. She'd never thought to put it on for anyone else, hadn't really understood why she kept it. But now she had a reason, and Jahn no longer mattered. Only Thiele mattered.

  She set the parcel on the floor while she stripped out of her gown and shift, letting them fall wherever they cared to. Then she bent, untied the string that held the plain brown sacking together, and removed the flimsy under-gown from inside.

  "What are you doing over there?" Thiele demanded.

  "You'll see soon," she answered. "Keep your eyes closed."

  He crossed his arms over his chest and smiled.

  She shook out the immodest garment and studied it. With its filmy, transparent material and its ribbons and bows, it fit Thiele's description perfectly. No doubt he'd seen such things—they weren't truly forbidden, only naughty. Except between a teacher and novice. For her and Thiele, it was perfect. She slipped it over her head, leaving her amulet underneath, and arranged the ribbons so that they highlighted her nipples and the curls between her legs, not hiding them at all.

  Then she turned to face him full on. "You can open your eyes now."

  He did, and he shot out of his chair, toppling it behind him. "Mercy, woman," he gasped. "Where did you get that?"

  "Does it matter?"

  "No." He swallowed. "I only...I've never seen...it shows everything."

  "Isn't that what you wanted?"

  He crossed the room in two strides and took her into his arms. He lifted her right off her feet as he pressed her to him everywhere. He bent his head and took her mouth in a bruising kiss.

  She dug her fingers into his shoulders and answered him, opening

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  her lips under his and sliding her tongue into his mouth. He growled in the back of his throat and pulled her hard against him. Her breasts crushed into the muscles of his chest, setting up a delicious friction that coursed through her veins to heat her sex. She extended her toes down to the tops of his feet to gain them some purchase so that she could move against his hardness. He lowered his face into the crook of her neckand whimpered, kneading her back in his fists.

  She pushed her hand between their bodies and stroked him, and his whimpers swelled to cries as his hips began to rock. Back and forth, back and forth, bringing the thick ridge of flesh against her hand in a rhythm older than the forest. She squeezed him and felt him shudder.

  Suddenly he pushed himself away from her, holding her by her shoulders, his chest heaving as he worked for breath. "I can't," he gasped. "Dendra, I can't."

  She touched his chest, and he jumped nearly out of his skin. "It's too much, Kareth," he cried.

  "But our castle, you said you'd take me in all the rooms. In the kitchen with the bread baking.”

  "That was fantasy. We'll never have that."

  "Thiele..."

  "Understand, little one. It's too much," he said, gazing down into her face. "Every time I love you, you get further inside me. I'm afraid the next time I'll lose myself completely."

  "You're supposed to lose yourself," she answered. "My soul comes undone every time we make love."

  "That's right for you. You can trust." He clenched his teeth and sucked in a breath between them. "For me...I can't...it's total surrender."

  "Then surrender."

  "No," he said.

  She took his face in her hands and gazed into his eyes. "Do it. Give yourself to me. All of you."

  "No."

  "Trust me. Trust Dendra. Lose yourself. We'll bring you back."

  "I can't."

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  She rose to her full height, calling up the goddess from deep inside her. Summoning everything she had—the wisdom of the trees, the tenacity of the fog, the power of her love. She opened her eyes wide and stared at him, straight on, eye to eye, mastering him. "You will surrender to me, Thiele. You will do exactly as I say, and we will merge until nothing separates us—not flesh, not blood, not breath. We will give each other life."

  He looked back at her, unblinking, silent. Another moment and she'd own him. Just the right combination of words, the right entreaty.

  "This is why you came here," she went on, chanting to him. "This is why you were born. For me—here and now. Do you understand?"

  He nodded slowly. "Take me, school me," he whispered, reciting the ancient prayer. "I am yours."

  She took his hand and led him to the bed. He sat on it, never taking his eyes off her, as though under her spell. She pulled off his shirt and threw it to the floor. Then she guided him backward, down until he rested on his back, still staring at her.

  She climbed on top of him and captured his mouth, darting her tongue in and out, tasting him. She slid her body over his and teased his chest with the ribbons of her under-gown. Then she lowered herself, took one of his nipples into her mouth, and sucked.

  He cried out at that, his voice rupturing the air around them. "Ah, woman, you'll kill me."

  She lifted her head and found his eyes closed, his jaw clenched. Fighting for control, no doubt And losing, losing badly. "You'll be reborn," she answered.

  Then she pressed her lips to the other nipple and claimed it, too. Beneath her, his hips began to move, and she shifted so that she could press her palm to his manhood. He gasped, and she squeezed him, running her fingers along the entire length of him.

  Slowly, slowly she slid herself even lower, until her head rested against his belly and she was face to face with the bulge in his breeches. She unfastened one button and then another, taking her time with him, drawing out the agony of waiting. Finally, she had them open, and his sex came free. She caught the shaft in her fingers

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  and guided the head into her mouth.

  He nearly floated off the bed then, and a roar tore out of a place deep in his chest. "Woman, stop," he shouted. "You don't know what you're doing to me."

  But she did know. She knew exactly what she did as she sucked on the tip of him and stroked the length of his shaft, dipping her fingers into his breeches and between his legs to caress the soft sac there. His member throbbed in her hand, a thing with its own life. And she knew that he would come soon, no matter how hard he tried to fight it. He'd spill his seed, and when he did, she w
ould take it deep inside her.

  She rose and swung her leg over him, still holding his sex and positioning herself over it. She guided herself onto him and surrendered her own sanity to the pleasure. He filled her so completely, so perfectly. She howled with the joy as she pressed her hands into his ribs and moved herself. Up and down, bringing herself to him, over and over, stroking his length.

  He matched her movements. He circled her waist with his fingers and held her while he pounded into her, pumping wildly and sending her to the edge. She closed her eyes and let the madness have her. The universe shifted, sensation crashing over her. Impossible, but real. Scents from childhood, music, blinding lights, and distant thunder. One loud clap nearby—Thiele's cry of release—and she dissolved with him into bliss. She slumped onto his chest and basked in the shuddering of her womanhood where she was still joined to him.

  Slowly the world settled back into place. Her fingertips registered the smoothness of his skin underneath them, her palms measured his warmth. She pressed her lips into the furrow that ran down the center of his chest and sighed. His fingers slipped into her hair.

  Thiele, beloved Thiele. He had surrendered to her, but so had she to him. The priestess' spell had turned itself back on her, and she would never be the same.

  She ran her hands up his body, touching him everywhere, memorizing his arms, his shoulders, his throat. She found her beloved everywhere, and something more. No, not something more—rather some-

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  thing less. No metal. She opened her eyes and looked up at him.

  His collar was gone. "Thiele," she whispered.

  His hand pushed her head back against his chest, his fingers still making slow circles in her hair. "Not now, little one. Let me rest."

  She sat up and searched again. Not a sign of cammite anywhere. Not even broken pieces lying beside him. The atrocity had disappeared completely. "Thiele," she said more loudly. "Open your eyes. Your collar's off. You're free."

  He came alert at that, his eyes flying open. He sat up so suddenly he threw Kareth off him, and he ran his hands along his neck. A sobbing shout escaped him, and he twisted to search the bed, running his palms over it as though the hated collar had merely become invisible but still might lie somewhere on the coverlet. After a moment, he stopped and turned to her, his, eyes wide with wonder.