The Academy Volume One

by Maxine Mansfield

  Sarco chuckled, but the sound was more predatory than it was humorous. “Stodgy? I’ll show you stodgy.”

  The lights of his office suddenly dimmed and the bolt to his door clicked to the locked position. “Old? Tsk-tsk. It is such a bad idea to provoke me, Lark.”

  She gulped. “Have you forgotten so quickly that you intend to wed my sister?”

  “Have you forgotten already how you melted in my arms?” Sarco chuckled.

  She shook her head no.

  Sarco took a deep breath. “No, Lark, I haven’t forgotten, But I’m not bound to Princess Aryanna today, and I won’t be bound to her tomorrow or for several cycles of the moons yet—if ever. Only time will tell. I do have to be honest with you, though. In the end I will do my duty to my people no matter where that leads. It is who I am.”

  “I understand.” She nodded and wrapped her arms about herself. “So, where do we go from here?”

  He held out his hands. “I can’t help myself, I want you. I probably shouldn’t but I do. I can’t even promise you more than right this moment, but at the same time, I can’t forget how many times you screamed your release to the rafters while we were at Carnalval. Was it once, twice? No, I believe it was four times.”

  He suddenly grinned. “I counted. Perhaps for the time being we can put whatever the future holds on hold and give each other a…refresher course?”

  His eyes gleamed with mischief. “It truly is unfortunate this stodgy old elf can’t promise you anything except pleasure. I have to admit, there is something about you I can’t seem to resist.

  “And, I don’t see any reason why we should resist this pull between us. After all, the simultaneous full phasing of the three moons of Albrath and the need to fulfill the prophecy is still a very long ways off. Aryanna and I haven’t even really spoken of it yet, let alone made promses to each other.”

  He moved toward her, his cat-like, golden-brown eyes beckoning. “Until then, until such time as I am forced to take another as mate, if you’re willing to settle for what I do have to offer, come to me now, and I’ll remind you of just what we did share.”

  He held out a hand.

  Lark gulped. This was wrong. She shouldn’t have baited him. She knew better. Making love with a total stranger was one thing, but the man standing before her, for all intents and purposes, might very well someday belong to her sister.

  With her mind made up, Lark took the outstretched hand and melted into Sarco’s embrace.

  As his lips touched hers, Lark swallowed the last of her guilt. Ary didn’t know Sarco like she did, nor did she want to. Ary had no idea that his lips could devour with just the perfect mixture of pressure and heat. And she had no clue how deep his tongue could probe, how sweet his taste could be, how close to paradise just being held in the circle of his arms really was.

  Would it really be so very wrong to enjoy a few stolen moments of bliss? Would she regret it the rest of her life if she didn’t? Perhaps she could protect her heart, build a wall around it. Accept the encounter for what it was, simple sexual gratification, and finally get him out of her system, rid him from her heart. And then, by the time Sarco was forced to do his duty and marry Aryanna, she’d have no regrets left. She’d simply smile at the memories and wish them both well then fade away into the shadows.

  A moment later, Lark knew she’d made a mistake. As his kiss deepened and his arms encircled her even tighter, shivers of anticipation raced along her spine, and her heart pounded so hard she was afraid it would burst wide open. How could she have ever thought anything concerning Sarco Sunwalker would be simple?

  His lips plundered hers, and all coherent thought fled Lark’s mind. He tasted of the freshness of the first snowflakes to fall during an Alarian winter, sweet like the last drops of summer’s dew upon the grass. Crisp and invigorating, refreshing yet sizzling hot.

  His tongue probed deeper, drinking in her small gasps of pleasure, ridding her of all doubts, and branding his mark upon her soul.

  She’d been a fool, and she wanted to cry. There was no way she could walk away from this man, ever. It hadn’t been a possibility from the moment she’d first laid eyes on him. She just hadn’t known it then.

  His lips made their way along her neck, down her throat. “You are overdressed, Wonderful.” With the flick of his wrist and a flash of light, her tunic fell away.

  Lark gasped as the cool office air accosted her bare skin. She wasn’t cold for long, however. Sarco ran his hand lightly over her breast and tweaked a pebbly hard nipple between his fingers, rolling it back and forth before taking it into his mouth and sucking. Heat pooled in her belly, and the liquid fire he was stoking moistened her pussy.

  “God Draka, you are so beautiful.” Sarco’s eyes darkened with passion, and his words sounded breathy to Lark’s ears. “I can’t help myself when I’m anywhere near you. All I can think about is touching you, kissing you, ramming my cock deep into that sweet pussy of yours.”

  “Then do it, Sarco. Make love to me now, please. I need you inside of me.”

  A brilliant flash of light momentarily blinded her.

  Where had the warm fur rug she was now lying upon come from? The roaring fire? She hadn’t noticed them in the office before. And when had Sarco undressed? For he was certainly as naked as she was.

  His glorious cock stood thick, long, and proud. She spread her legs in invitation and smiled.

  For the space of eighteen heartbeats, he simply gazed at her brazenness. Heat crept up Lark’s neck and settled in her cheeks. Never had she been so bold. Then his eyes locked with hers, and the appreciation she saw shining back had her heart skipping a beat.

  “Exquisite,” Sarco whispered. He positioned himself between her thighs and with one sure, fluid thrust, he entered her.

  Lark closed her eyes and arched toward him. She wrapped her legs around his back and her arms around his shoulder. Time and space lost all meaning as over and over Sarco’s cock filled her, teased, and tormented. Like the ebbing and surging of a tide, he rode her.

  Lark’s clit throbbed with every single stroke. Pressure built—intense pressure, superb pressure, wonderful pressure. But she wanted desperately to make this encounter last. She didn’t ever want it to end, but end she knew it would. When, if ever, would she get another chance to be held in this wizard’s arms, cradled in his embrace, stroked by his own brand of fire?

  He must have felt her fears, perhaps even shared them. For, a moment later, he slowed his pace and gently kissed her lips. “Open your eyes, Lark. Look at me. Watch how perfect we are together.”

  She did as he asked and gloried in the sight and feel of their joining as Sarco once more picked up the pace. He plundered her pussy unmercifully with his cock, slamming and ramming, slick and wild. She answered him in kind, meeting each thrust with abandon.

  When her orgasm burst upon her, it wasn’t a slow, gentle quaking, or even the rolling ripples of pleasure she was used to. The intensity shocked her. It started at the very roots of the hair on the top of her head and built like an eruption of lava from a volcano.

  Her breath caught in her chest, her heart stopped beating altogether, her nipples tingled, her arms trembled, her belly quivered, her legs turned to jelly, and her pussy spasmed as swell after swell of paroxysmic perfection left her unable to do so much as lift a finger.

  If the all-male roar Sarco bellowed a moment before collapsing on top of her was any indication, he’d found his release, too.

  She should care that she’d just had mind-blowing sex with her sister’s intended, she really should. But all Lark could manage to do right this moment with any real consistency was breathe in, breathe out, breathe in, breathe out.

  “Play time’s over, Wonderful. Get up. It’s time for class.”

  ****

  “You’re late, knave,” Aryanna pouted. “I’ve been waiting in this damp, humid place for over a full turning of the hourglass. I suppose I should be honored you bothered to show up at all. Especially since
you stood me up at Carnalval.”

  The man chuckled, wrapped his arms around the princess, and kissed her soundly.

  “Don’t be angry with me, Ary. I couldn’t make Carnalval. I was stuck in negotiations. How many times must I apologize before you’ll forgive me? And I had important research to do in every library I could find between your home and mine before I could get away. I’m here now. That’s all that matters. And this isn’t a damp, humid place. It’s an arborarium filled with beautiful plants and fragrant flowers fit for a princess like you.”

  He drew her down onto the soft bed of moss beneath their feet and cradled her within his arms.

  “Now, did you give it to her?” he whispered.

  She wanted to be angry with him, she really did. The problem was, she found it impossible to remain angry when he was kissing her neck with lips that drove her to distraction and a warm tongue that flicked in and out of her ear. Aryanna giggled.

  “Cyrrick-Keltith Tomas Sunwalker, stop it. I can’t think when you do that.”

  He made a production of giving Aryanna loud, sloppy kisses all over her face as they both fell into a fit of laughter.

  Cyrrick snuggled Aryanna into the crook of his arm. “Okay, okay, business first, my sexy little princess. Then pleasure, much pleasure. Did you give her the book?”

  Aryanna frowned as she nodded. “Are you sure this is the only way? If this doesn’t work, Lark’s never going to forgive me, let alone Sarco forgiving you.”

  Cyrrick sighed. “It has to work. If it doesn’t, my love, forgiveness isn’t the worst thing we’ll have to worry about. The wrath of the ancients is.”

  Aryanna sat up. “Bah, I don’t believe all that ancients stuff. That war and prophecy was forever ago. We hadn’t even been thought of yet, not even by our parents. What could those old stories possibly have to do with us? I think we should forget all this intrigue and elope. I don’t want to do this, especially to Lark.”

  Cyrrick shook his head. “I wish there was another way. God Draka knows I’ve searched and searched for one. Trust me, Ary, if there was any other path, we’d take it. I know you don’t believe in prophecies and such, but I was raised in a magical family. The stories are all too real, and there are consequences that must be considered, my love.”

  Tears wet Aryanna’s lashes, and she blinked them away. “Make me understand, Cyrrick. Tell me again why we must deceive the two most important people in our lives.”

  Cyrrick closed his eyes. “Almost nine hundred years ago, Castle Kuropkat was an elfin jewel of trade and prosperity—”

  “Oh my God Draka.” Aryanna punched his shoulder. “Not the whole flipping boring story. I know the visiting barbarian princess seduces the elfin heir, blah blah blah, and the two kings got pissed off and started a war, blah blah blah.”

  Cyrrick nuzzled Aryanna’s ear. “Then what don’t you understand?”

  Aryanna sighed into his embrace, not really wanting to listen or think about any part of the story but also realizing she had no choice. “I just want to understand our part in all of this.”

  Cyrrick nipped her soft bottom lip then captured her mouth in a kiss that took her breath away. “Wouldn’t you rather spend what little time we have making love instead of talking? I so need to plunge my cock as deep as I can get it, straight up that sweet pussy of yours and pump until both our heads explode.” He grabbed her hips and brought her hard up against him, mimicking the very action he’d just described.

  Aryanna glared. “How romantic.” She pushed against him. “But business first, remember?”

  “It’s my Uncle Arizon’s fault,” Cyrrick sighed. “He’s the one who spoke the dreadful words. It’s the second part of his prophecy we have to worry about. Uthiel Dragonheart, with Sarco’s help, fulfilled the first part last year. They saved a dragon and other stuff that doesn’t matter to us.

  “What does matter, though, is the time is now for the second part of the prophecy to be fulfilled. The blood of the elfin heir must be joined with the barbarian-human princess, and it must take place when the three moons of Albrath are all in the full phase.”

  A sob caught in Aryanna’s throat, and she swallowed it down. “Stupid-ass prophecies. I don’t even believe in them,” she proclaimed.

  Cyrrick took a deep breath. “It doesn’t matter if you or I believe in them, my heart. It only matters that the entire rest of Albrath, and Sarco, and the Council of Elders do.”

  Aryanna seethed. “Fine, let them. I still don’t understand. We really could just ignore the whole damn thing and run away.”

  Cyrrick held her so tight, breathing became difficult.

  “I wish it was that simple,” he said, loosening his grip just a hair and gazing into her eyes. “We can’t run from this, Aryanna. Are you willing to spend the rest of your life hated, shunned? Because we would be. We would be considered without honor. Our children, if we have any, would be outcasts. My brother would be disgraced.”

  “I don’t care about honor. I don’t care about your brother. I care about us, you…our children,” she sobbed. “You’re right, though. We—we can’t take chances with our, our children’s future.”

  It felt like a death toll to her dreams. “So…if our plan doesn’t work, I’ll…I’ll…ma…marry Sarco.”

  Cyrrick caressed her cheek. “It’s not going to come to that. I won’t let it. This is going to work. Trust me. Your parents may have chosen you to marry Sarco, but if what we’ve put into motion continues to the conclusion we hope for, Sarco will be the one making a choice.”

  She shook her head. “But what if—”

  “No what-ifs.” Cyrrick cupped her face. “This will work. Making it possible for Sarco to choose his bride is our only hope, and the only way to accomplish that, is with the quest. You’ve already made sure the seeds of a romance were sown when you insisted Lark accompany you to Carnalval.”

  Aryanna opened her mouth to protest but didn’t get a chance as Cyrrick continued excitedly, “Didn’t I tell you Lark was just his type?”

  She nodded.

  “Now we just need to nurture those feelings. If we manage to pull this off, by the time the quest is upon us, Sarco will be hopelessly in love with Lark and he’ll go against convention and choose her over you.”

  Cyrrick laughed and the carefree sound of it lifted Aryanna’s spirit.

  “Your insisting Lark attend Sarco’s class was a stroke of pure genius, too, by the way. But it’s still going to take all the skill we both have, a couple of miracles, and an enormous amount of luck to succeed. In the end, though, we’ll all get what we want and live happily ever after. I just know we will.”

  Aryanna leaned over and nipped Cyrrick playfully on the chin. “Then we’d best get on with this lovemaking you’ve been teasing me with, knave. We have work to do.”

  Cyrrick didn’t need further enticement. Before Aryanna realized what happened, he had her flat on her back, naked, with her legs spread wide. She grinned up at him.

  “Fuck me, Cyrrick. Do it now.” Her voice sounded husky even to her own ears. “Put your cock in my pussy and pound me so hard I can’t think. I command it of you.”

  He chuckled, “Ahh, my sweet, it always pleasantly surprises me when such naughty words come out of that pretty, little mouth of yours. But when will you learn I don’t take orders well?”

  With a growl, he slid down the length of her body, parted her folds, and captured her clit between his teeth. He nipped, and ripples of pleasure shook Aryanna’s small frame.

  With a gasp, she cried, “Oh my god Draka, I love it when you bite.”

  Cyrrick flicked out his tongue and licked. “Well, if you liked that, let’s see what you think of this.”

  Slowly, he inserted a finger into her ass, past the second knuckle, then latched onto her clit and sucked with ravenous delight.

  Aryanna was undone. She struggled to take in deep enough breaths to remain conscious while pounding against the finger pumping her ass and grinding her clit again
st Cyrrick’s mouth.

  It was naughty. It was delightful. Shivers of excitement skittered along every nerve ending she possessed. By the time Cyrrick gave into her wishes and slid his cock deep into her welcoming warmth, it took no more than a handful of thrusts before they both shuddered with spasms of release.

  Chapter Six

  If ever a man should be drawn and quartered, then slowly roasted over a fiery pit, Sarco “The Tyrant” Sunwalker was that man.

  Lark groaned as she shifted in her seat later that afternoon. Muscles she hadn’t been aware she even had ached and burned with a persistent throb.

  First day of classes, and could a nice, welcoming lecture with perhaps a simple homework assignment be sufficient? Oh, no, not for Sarco “The Tormentor” Sunwalker.

  After listening to a full hour of mind-numbing facts on ancient wizard history, the class had retired to the arena for what Sarco “The Sadist” Sunwalker described as weeding out the weak.

  Lark closed her eyes and concentrated on trying to suck sufficient air into her lungs. The ache in her ribs reminded her that deep breathing wasn’t a function she’d be performing again anytime soon. Nausea threatened to rid her of what little she’d been able to force down at lunch as images raced through her head of what Sarco “The Evil Spawn from the Valley of Torment” Sunwalker had gleefully labeled Wizard Lab.

  She relived the lecture he’d given in the arena to his students.

  “There are three things imperative to becoming a successful, elemental wizard—intelligence, agility, and talent. Without an abundance of all these, you might as well save yourselves—and me—a lot of time and discomfort and take up trade skills. I’ve been told there is a huge need for tailors, armor crafters, engineers, even cooks.”

  All twenty students had been riveted on Sarco “The Cruel” Sunwalker, but none more than she was. His persona demanded attention. Energy radiated from him. His voice was hypnotic, compelling, and powerful. His next words had been a warning Lark now knew she should have heeded.