FION'S DAUGHTER

by Brenna Lyons

Deliya plucked the mug from Ro’s fingers and drank deeply from it. She settled it back in his hand. “I will not ask you to accept any treatment I will not prove the safety of. I will explain everything I do. The tea is lizor berry with olum. Not lizor stem as I gave you the last time, but the simple berry. It will relax your muscles and relieve pain. It is bittersweet.” Deliya sat on the bedside and removed several jars from her pack.

  Ro drank deeply from the mug. It was bittersweet, as she said it would be, as lizor and olum should be. He scanned his eyes over her breasts, straining against the silin bodice of her gown. Ro gulped down the rest of the tea, reminding himself that Deliya had taken vows that did not include his advances.

  She took the mug from his hand with a nod, crushing sweet-smelling herbs in a second mug with just enough boiling water to make a paste. She set the mixture aside and added two more powders to the first mug, dissolving them in more water and mixing it well. Again, she gave him the mug.

  Ro stared at the orange liquid. “What does this do?”

  Deliya took the mug from him and drank a mouthful before handing it back. “Prevents infection and speeds healing,” she informed him. This one is sucre sap sweet.”

  He smiled as he drank it. “It’s very good.” His body felt warm and relaxed.

  She looked up, her green eyes glittering and her color high. “The more you drink, the better. Would you like more?”

  Ro nodded. “Will you share it with me?” Donic would not be as incensed if Ro made sure that Deliya shared every mug with him.

  Her blush deepened. “If you wish it.”

  “I do.” The sweet smell of her body seemed to surround him. It must be the drugs, he reasoned. Deliya cannot be so aroused.

  She nodded and made him another mug, drinking almost a quarter of it before she handed it to him. Deliya picked up the mug full of paste. “This must be rubbed into the wound. I could cut my skin to prove its safety, but it cannot be eaten.”

  “Do not do something so ridiculous,” he slurred. Ro shook his head, looking at her through a pleasant haze.

  “As you wish.” Deliya painted the warm herbs over the cut, rubbing lightly over the stitches Donic had placed in Ro’s hide himself. “The paste aids in healing and reduces pain and inflammation,” she explained.

  Ro nodded, suddenly and acutely aware of his lengthening cock. He stared at her pert breasts, his mouth watering. Dear Mag, but he wanted to bury his face in those breasts.

  Deliya leaned away to take a clean bandage from the tray, and Ro drank down the rest of the sweet tea. He held the mug out to her with an unsteady hand.

  She met his eyes uncertainly. “More?”

  “The more, the better.” He watched her movements as she made more of the tea. It prevents infection. I must do that, because if she comes to my bed again, I cannot promise to keep to my vow.

  Deliya held his eyes as she drank several mouthfuls from the mug and placed it in his hand. Ro hardened further, as she wrapped the bandage, gulping down the rest of the mug. He was going to need several schente to stay sane after this.

  He sucked in his breath, as Deliya massaged his arm. “What are you doing?”

  “Increasing blood flow past the injury. It will make the herbs more effective and speed healing.” She moved her hands to his chest, stroking them in delicious circles through the red curls.

  His male nipples hardened as Deliya caressed them. Ro bit back a moan in response. Hi cock ached, a maddening burning and throbbing. Deliya pressed her breasts to him, kneading the muscles of his shoulders. Her scent was a heady mix of the herbs and her musk that made the throbbing worse.

  Ro kissed her throat. “Deliya,” he breathed, wanting to hold her.

  She moaned, though her hands didn’t pause in their diligent service. “Yes, Ro.”

  It wasn’t a question. It should have been a question, shouldn’t it? His mind was muddled. “No.” He kissed her again, nuzzling her rising scent. “You should go.” If she didn’t, he would do something dishonorable.

  “Why?”

  “I want you,” he admitted, nipping at the site he’d kissed.

  “I know. Would you—”

  “You do?” he asked in a bleary sort of understanding.

  She nodded, leaning back to meet his eyes. “Would you do something for me?”

  “Anything,” he groaned.

  “Let me show you the way of my people,” she whispered, “the first time.”

  “Yes. What is your way?” First time? I will thank Mag and Fion both for more than once.

  Deliya met his mouth urgently. Ro pulled her astride him, pushing the dress up to her hips. He wanted her: hard, fast and often.

  She pulled his hand to her core. “Feel how much I want you,” she whispered. “All of you, Ro.”

  “Now,” he growled, stroking at her hood. Her honey coated his fingers, inviting more.

  Deliya bit her lip lightly, rocking against his hand. “My way — this time.”

  “Teach me,” he pleaded. Quickly.

  She stripped off her dress, and Ro cupped a breast up, suckling the deep red tip slowly into his mouth.

  Deliya moved against him restlessly. “No. You may not use your hands.”

  Ro sat back, looking at her in confusion. “What? What madness is this?”

  “The first mating between a man and woman is always thus. Will you give me this?”

  “Only the first?” he asked.

  Deliya nodded, looking uncertain. “Only the first,” she promised.

  Ro sighed, his insistent body driving him near mad for her. “What must I do?”

  She presented him with a pair of silin cords. Ro shook his head. Deliya started to push away, seemingly crushed by his refusal of her tradition.

  Ro grasped her arms lightly, desperate to have her. “Why do you do this? Explain the tradition to me.”

  “The priestess chooses a man. Out of respect for her position, he gives himself over completely to her the first time they mate. He may do anything he wishes during the mating, but he may not use his hands to touch her.”

  “He puts himself at her mercy,” Ro challenged.

  “You think I have so little honor?” Deliya wasn’t angered by that. She seemed hurt.

  “Fion would be displeased if you—”

  A look of horror settled on her face. “Using the promise of ecstasy to kill? I would lose the soul’s reward. I would—”

  Ro drew her mouth to his, stealing her words in a kiss that left them both panting. “I trust you. Teach me.”

  Deliya nodded. Her hands shook as she bound his wrists to the posts of the bed. To Ro’s surprise, the ropes were very loose. He could freely move, even raise his torso from the bed, but he could not quite embrace Deliya’s body. Ro licked his lips as she unfastened his lounging pants and slid them down his legs. She straddled him again, rubbing her core against his cock.

  Ro wondered at the force of his arousal. “Take me,” he begged. “Please, take me.”

  She lay over him, tasting his nipples much as he had tasted hers. It was an exquisite torture, making him want her, yet denying him the ease of her heat.

  Deliya slid up his body, pausing long enough to offer her breasts then moving on. Ro tasted her as she passed, drunk on the feel of her skin beneath his lips, nipping and suckling of all of her, of whatever piece of her ventured near his questing mouth.

  She straddled his face. Ro didn’t need to ask what she wanted. He circled her hood with his tongue then sucked it hard.

  “Yes, Ro. Taste me. Teach me.”

  He slid his tongue down her seam, licking inside her. Ro slid deeper, her musk acting as the potent aphrodisiac it was. He sucked at her, licked at her, massaged her inner pleasure spot.

  Deliya arched her back, driving him deeper. “Now, Ro. Please.” Her inner muscles contracted against his tongue.

  Ro sucked at her core, drinking in her lubricant as it wept from her. The throbbing in his groin was insistent. “I need you,”
he gasped, holding back his need to release.

  She moved down his body, stroking his length and guiding it to her entrance. “Slowly,” she requested.

  He cried out, as Deliya started dropping around him. Staying still while she took him into her tight body a finger-width at a time was more frustrating than not having her at all. Deliya was hot, and her sheath gripped him hard.

  Sweat coated his body, and every muscle tensed. It has been a long time for her. Loric died four years ago. She needs this, and I gave myself up to her. He groaned in the agony of holding back. Mag, give me strength! This may kill me.

  Deliya’s face was a study in intense concentration. She met his eyes, as he—

  Realization came suddenly. “No,” he breathed. Her first time. Dear Mag, it isn’t just her first time with me but her first time with a man. “Not like this.”

  “It is our way.” Deliya pushed down fully against him, swallowing a scream of pain as her barrier tore against him.

  Ro roared in disbelief, pulling at the silin cords. “No,” he pleaded as his body started to release. Not this way. Please, not this way.

  But, his body wasn’t listening to his mind’s rational arguments. Knowing he was her first stole his self-control. Ro surged up into her as he erupted. If he didn’t do that much, he might injure her when he swelled. He cursed himself as his cock locked into her stim band.

  Deliya’s eyes opened wide. She ground her teeth, holding back whatever sound sought to escape her, looking pained. Deliya curled to his chest, shivering, a single, silent sob wracking her form.

  Ro brushed his lips over her hair. “Please, let me hold you.”

  She nodded, fumbling the ropes off.

  He wrapped her in his arms, angry with her for not telling him, disgruntled with himself for not making the experience better for Deliya — for taking his pleasure so selfishly and finding delight in her barrier when she had only pain. Most of all, Ro felt disbelief that he wanted her again — desperately, while Deliya lay huddled to his chest. His body ached for her, a maddening need to have her again.

  “You should have told me,” he whispered. “One of your men would have known.”

  She nodded.

  “I am sorry.”

  “Do not be,” she assured him.

  “You did not enjoy it,” he replied miserably, feeling his failure acutely.

  Deliya raised her head and shot him a look of confusion. “Are you insane?”

  Ro stroked her cheek, trying to make sense of what she was saying.

  She kissed his chest. “The first time, a priestess must take both pleasure and pain in silence,” she explained. Deliya ran her fingers through his curls, following with her face as if drinking in his scent again.

  He lessened in her and released her band, though his was still stiff and pleading for more of her. “The first time?” he asked for qualification. “You are free to voice your pleasure after that?”

  Deliya nodded solemnly. “I met the Mother’s challenge and passed.”

  Ro turned her beneath him and surged into her. Deliya let out a whimper of pleasure, grasping his arms, her nails digging into him as she rolled her hips in invitation.

  “Now you meet mine,” he assured her. “A Magden woman does not hold in her pleasure.”

  He drew her legs around his hips. Deliya’s breathing was quick. She touched his face as he started stroking deep inside her and closed her eyes as he drove her on.

  “Come for me, Deliya,” he whispered.

  Her hands moved to his shoulders, seeking a better anchor, and her short nails dug deep into him as she sought her pleasure. “Ro,” she pleaded, her legs tightening.

  Ro pushed up slightly to lay his hand over her woman’s curls. He played his thumb over her hood, watching her face intently. Deliya’s face contorted, announcing the sweet agony of her joy. She screamed harshly as her body contracted around him. He couldn’t hold off his release. Deliya’s body had barely unknotted from her climax when he sent her into another by stimulating her egg.

  In the aftermath, Ro held Deliya close to him, his heart pounding in his chest. She had given herself to him freely. Deliya was his. He would never let her go.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Wend 25th, Ti 10-459

  Deliya eased from the bed, casting a smile at Ro. Her plan worked well. If Fion were kind, their night would result in a child. A girl would be best, but even a male child was capable of learning the secrets of their race.

  She shrugged into the silin dress and gathered up her herbs. Using her knowledge to win a child from Ro had ridden the edges of propriety, but there was precedent for the course she took, the idea of enticing her body to produce a viable heir of a man who was willing to share her bed for a single night.

  Any priestess could take a man to warm her bed for the simple production of a child if it were deemed that true mating would be a mockery of the Mother’s gift. Since children were of the mother’s house, the paternity was immaterial in anything but choosing of mates for the next generation. It was certainly immaterial if she took a true mate later in life. Since none of her children belonged to the male, the fact that she had children of two men was not his concern. Securing strong heirs to Fion’s service was always most important.

  In itself, her aim had been sound, but using Dolgen to accomplish her goal had been underhanded. Deliya sobered as she shouldered her pack. Ro would wake soon, confused by his mad urges to mate with her. Perhaps he would be angry with her and demand Deliya leave his house.

  She bit back a sob and strode to the door, her head held high. If Ro cast her out for her treachery, she would go calmly. Deliya deserved no better for giving an unwilling man an aphrodisiac to fire his lust.

  Ro was sure to suspect the truth. He was certain to be furious with her when the truth was confirmed for him. Deliya made her plans in resignation. She would bathe and eat heartily. It might be the last time for quite a while when such luxuries would be readily available to her.

  *

  Ro reached for Deliya, ready to sate his insistent body again. Three times during the night had barely whet his appetite for her. He opened his eyes, staring at the empty bed in confusion and dismay.

  “Deliya?” Ro pushed unsteadily to his feet, making a thorough sweep of his rooms.

  He pulled on his robe and marched to the door. Uneducated or not, Deliya should have known better than to leave his bed this way. He opened her door without knocking, nodding to the guard who had taken his place sometime during the night to protect them while they slept.

  Deliya’s eyes widened in shock, and she stood, turning her back on a tray of food. She shifted nervously. “Good day, Ro.”

  “You left my bed,” he noted in annoyance.

  Her brow furrowed and she darkened. “Of course.”

  Of course? Ro crossed the room in two long strides and pulled her to his chest, seeking her mouth urgently. Deliya moaned as her lips parted beneath his.

  She pushed away, her breathing ragged, pushing a shaking hand through her mussed hair. “Oh no,” she whispered miserably. “What have I done?”

  Ro stood, frozen in shock with his hands on her shoulders, as Deliya felt the pulse at his throat then checked the dilation of his eyes. The confusion etched on her face couldn’t compare to his own.

  “Your pupils are not dilated,” she mused. “Your pulse is slow and steady. I haven’t given you too much.”

  “Deliya?” he half-asked, half-demanded. “What do you mean?”

  She didn’t seem to hear his question. Deliya bit her lip and checked his pulse again. Ro suppressed the urge to tell her that he was well aware it was speeding in tension.

  Deliya pulled from under his hands and started to pace the floor. “What have I missed? The effect should have faded.”

  “Deliya,” Ro barked, making her jump in response. “What effect? What are you talking about?”

  She winced. “You still want,” she faltered. “You shouldn’t want— Donic said�
�� I don’t understand,” she pleaded.

  “Still want what?” And what has Donic to do with this?

  “Me. You shouldn’t,” she answered, distracted. “What have I done wrong?”

  “I have wanted you since I dragged the helm off your head in that shack you called home. Why should that change?”

  She scowled then laughed nervously. “Thank the Mother then. It is simply the male drive speaking for you.”

  “Male drive?” Ro had a male drive, a fierce need to possess her again — once he had settled this madness.

  “The urge to mate,” she explained patiently.

  “And why would that change?” he prodded.

  “Because— I thought—” Deliya met his eyes and darkened. She swallowed slowly, raising her chin in challenge.

  Ro crossed his arms over his chest, waiting for what he assumed would be a very interesting discussion. “You drugged me?” he asked. “A witches’ brew to increase my — drive?”

  “I did,” she admitted. “I will understand if you wish me to leave.”

  “Leave? Why would I ask you to leave?”

  “I— You accept that I used my herbs on you in such a way?” Deliya was delightfully naïve.

  “You thought I wouldn’t want you in my bed unless you did this?”

  “Donic said—” She nodded slowly.

  Ro pushed back a spike of fury. Whatever Donic had said to her caused this. He sobered, moving onto more constructive paths. She really thought he didn’t want her? Was she blind? Ro sobered again. Deliya had known no men but her father and her guard since she had been sexually an adult. The interest of a man was alien to her.

  Ro pulled her back to his chest, smothering her gasp of surprise with his mouth. She met him tentatively then pulled Ro closer, her responses fevered. Ro guided her toward the bed, groaning as her nipples beaded through her silin robe, brushing the wall of his chest through his own.

  “You wasted your herbs,” he growled. “You are mine, Deliya.”

  “Yours?” she asked weakly. Her musk was heavy, potent. Deliya ran her fingers over the scratches she’d left the night before. “A priestess of Fion belongs to no man.”

  Ro pressed her to the hard line of his aching cock, laying his claim in her rising arousal. Deliya’s eyes dilated and her breathing hitched. Her fingers shook against his skin.