by Stone, Ciana
Resa sank to her knees on the floor in front of him as she freed his erection. Her mouth closed on him, electrifying every nerve in his body. Her tongue circled the head of his shaft, creating a burn that spread down its length, into his testicles and radiated out, prompting him to peel off his shirt, toe off his shoes and work his legs free of his pants.
Silken wetness enveloped him as she deep-throated him, each stroke driving the need higher.
She felt his need spike and knew that his control was eroding. He was close to climax. His hands tangled in her hair, pulling her up to meet his lips. One touch and the need to devour him overwhelmed her. She gripped his face, plundering his mouth as their bodies strained against one another, need bringing perspiration bursting through their pores to slicken their skin.
Resa’s world narrowed to the confines of the room, then smaller. All that existed was him. Nothing mattered but the feel of his body pressed against hers, the taste of him as his tongue filled her mouth, and the fire that burned within her at the touch of his hands roaming down her back to cup her ass and press her firmly against his erection.
She ended the kiss and started another slow trek down his body, her lips and tongue working slowly toward their destination. As she knelt in front of him she felt his hands working onto her hair.
His grip tightened when she took him in her hand, running her tongue around the head of his penis, probing the tiny opening. Pre-cum gave him an exotic spicy flavor that was intoxicating. She licked at the tiny droplets, using her tongue to smooth the lubricant over the engorged head.
When she ran her tongue down the length of his shaft and back up, a low groan came from him that had the fire of her desire flaming higher. It was exhilarating to know that her touch affected him and she wanted to give him more. Take him higher and further than he’d ever gone.
His body was like a drug, one she’d formed an instant addiction to and had no desire to break. The only measurement of time she was aware of was the reactions of his body as she took him close to the edge, time after time. Every time she felt that slight vibration sing in his body, felt his muscles tighten, she would slow, pulling back to circle the head of his penis with her tongue. And each time she felt that tension in him release she would start again.
Finally he stopped her, pushing her away.
He’d never experienced anything like the sensations Resa could evoke in him, and he knew the same was true for her. But knowing wasn’t enough. He needed to demonstrate. Pulling her to the sofa, he pushed her back, working his way up from her navel to her breasts and suckling them until she gasped, that curious sound that signaled a mixture of pain and pleasure that drove her to grind against him and small moans to come from her lips.
Constantine had never felt this kind of need. The hunger to brand her with his love, his touch. To give her what she could not hope to find with another. No matter that she was his. The need to stake his claim could not be denied.
He captured her lips with his, tasting himself on her tongue. She groaned into his mouth, her hands moving down his sides to pull him more firmly on her. He could taste her desire and it inflamed him almost to the point of breaking. Of forgetting the pleasure he wanted to show her and spreading her legs to sink into her delicious warmth and sate his hunger.
But the desire to pleasure her was stronger. He lingered on her lips a moment longer then released her from the kiss, his lips traveling down her neck to nip at the tender skin.
Had the need possessed him, he knew she would not have stopped him from tasting her, taking her blood and her essence. But the time was not right. Saving the taste of her on his tongue, he moved lower, capturing one nipple in his mouth and flicking his tongue over the taut nub.
She pressed against his mouth, her hands tangling in his hair to pull him more firmly to her breast.
He flicked his tongue over the peaked nub, letting his hand drift down her body and over her mound. His fingers slid between the wet folds. She moved against his hand then gasped when his finger eased over her hard clit.
Constantine felt her desire flame higher and it fueled the fire in his mind and body, spurring him to trap her arms over her head and tease her nipple, his tongue circling and flicking over it before finally sucking it into his mouth.
She pressed up into the sensation, her breath coming faster as his fingers worked over her clit, pinching and stroking. When he felt a ripple run through her body and heard her breathy gasp, he knew she was about to come.
Easing back, he spread her legs and knelt between them. Her heavy-lidded eyes watched as he spread her sex wide and bent forward to lave her from perineum to clit in one slow stroke.
Her throaty groan preceded her arching against his mouth. He raised his head to see her hands moving to her breasts, pinching her reddened nipples.
She was sensuality personified. Gloriously uninhibited. Strong yet submissive to his every need. He wanted to dominate her, possess her and yet the need to pleasure her outranked his own desire. He needed to give her what no other could aspire to. Ecstasy that was complete. And in the doing know that it was him she wanted and needed. Only him.
His finger stroked between the lips of her labia then spread them to circle the silky wet flesh. When he pushed one finger inside her, she moaned and pressed into the feeling. He inserted another finger, gently probing the vaginal walls, pressing deeper. When her body arched he knew he’d found that one spot that delivered the most intense pleasure.
Resa’s hips moved in time to the strokes of his hand, her own hands tracing down her body to her inner thighs to spread them wider. The bond between them enabled him to feel her need almost as strongly as his own. It was an intoxicating blend, almost overwhelming in its intensity. He bent forward to lave slowly over her clit and she moaned, moving faster against his fingers. He felt the vibration that raced through her and stroked faster and deeper inside her, sucking her clit into his mouth and flicking his tongue rapidly over it.
“Now, Constantine. In me. Now!” Her panted words came a moment before her pussy started to spasm around his fingers and wetness streamed from inside her.
Before her climax could end, he straightened and pushed the head of his cock against her wet opening. She pushed against him, her body yielding to him.
The way her pussy clenched on him and her undulating movements beneath him threatened his control almost to the breaking point. She smiled up at him, that expression of sex and lust that said clearly she knew the effect she had on him. He nearly came before he was fully seated inside her.
Running his hands up her luscious body, he gently squeezed her swollen nipple. A prolonged breath preceded her smile. She lifted one hand from her breast and raised it to her mouth, sucking one finger then two. The sight of her sucking the juice from her pussy from his fingers made his dick throb, threatening his control.
She gave him that sultry smile as she moved his hand back to her breast. “Take me.”
Her words were an explosion of sensation in his mind and body, a siren’s call that could not be denied. He started to stroke, slow and steady, fighting to maintain control and keep the impending orgasm at bay. Her tight pussy pulsed on him, tightening then releasing. Her hips rose and fell, meeting each thrust and matching his pace.
It was not long before they both were breathing hard, trying to hold back the dam of sensation that threatened to burst. She was the first to succumb. “I…I can’t…stop,” she gasped and arched her body, stretching her arms back over her head in a gesture of surrender. “Please…Constantine…please.”
The sight of her submissively offering herself and the husky plea of her words was more than he could resist. He released the bonds holding his lust intact and let the full force of his need be free from all restraints.
Resa groaned when he grabbed her hips and roughly pulled her to him, impaling her on his full length. Her body quaked as he rode her, soft cries urging him on. When he felt her muscles tighten around him, he lowered down, propped o
n one elbow so that his free hand could pin her arms above her head securely.
His thrusts became more urgent and forceful and her cries deeper but he would not gentle his movements. Nor did she encourage him to do so. This was mating at its most primitive. Here was the moment he’d waited for. Her complete surrender. Now she would become inextricably his.
“Now,” she moaned, and a moment later bared her teeth to him, displaying the elongated incisors. “I want all of you.”
Constantine could not have refused her demand had he wanted to. His mouth fastened on one side of her neck. As his teeth broke her skin, he felt her mouth on him. One sharp spike of pain that was too sublime to be labeled as such, swept through him.
Her body began to quake in orgasm, ending his control. With a hard thrust, he hilted himself in her and surrendered.
His sense of self grew indistinct and blurred. There was no way to differentiate between the riot of feeling that racked his body and those that tossed Resa in a maelstrom of ecstatic sensation. There was no way to tell whether the overpowering realization of love was his own or belonged to the woman who owned his heart.
Their essence was shared in a way unknown to humans, genetics mingling to change each of them into new beings. Beings with the strength and knowledge of the other. Beings who would forever be more than a singularity. For with their mating, the symbiotes within them joined. They were now a collective, united in blood and emotion.
It was nothing like he’d ever imagined and more than he’d dare hope for. For the first time in his long life, he was complete.
When at last reality returned, he sank down on her, listening to the sound of their breaths, their hearts pounding against one another, and feeling their sweat-slicked skin gradually cooling.
He rolled off her onto his side and she shifted to face him, reaching up to stroke along the side of his face. The depth of love he saw in her eyes was as breathtaking as the nirvana he’d just experienced.
“My beloved,” he whispered, reaching up to cover her hand with his. “My mate.”
“Always.” She smiled and closed her eyes. A few moments later, with a smile on his face, sleep claimed him.
* * * * *
Resa’s eyes flew open. Her heart hammered in her chest. They were not alone. She could sense the presence of others nearby. The Alliance had found them. She sat up and started to ease off the bed but Constantine’s hand closed on her wrist like a steel trap.
“Have you weapons here?” he whispered.
“Yes.” She slid off the bed to hurry on silent feet to the closet. Call it old habits dying hard, but she’d brought every weapon she owned. She dressed quickly in her hunting garb, the leather pants, vest and boots. By the time she was strapping her dagger harnesses to her forearms, Constantine was dressed and beside her.
She offered him a sword but he shook his head and selected instead a double-bladed fighting dagger.
“Why did you not wake me sooner?” she asked.
He smiled, testing the balance of the weapon. “Are these blades poisoned?”
“Yes.”
“I sense at least thirty,” Constantine remarked.
“More on the way,” she said, and gave him a dark smile when he looked at her in question. “It’s what I’d do if it was my hunting party,” she added. “You’re not an easy mark and neither am I. And they’ll expect you to have bodyguards. As would I.”
“We are not alone.”
“How many?”
“Enough.”
“I hope you’re right. If the Alliance senses your people, they’ll ramp up their efforts, call in more troops. If your people are here then they’ll wait until their backup arrives before they move in.”
“I will not.”
“You won’t what?”
“Wait.”
With that, he strode from the room, across the living area and to the front door. She followed quickly. He threw it open, stepped outside and announced, “Come if you dare.”
Resa had to admire him. There was not even a hint of fear or uncertainty in him. He stood tall and confident, like a dark god, his hair lifting in the wind to form a black halo around his head.
A split second later hell broke loose. A bolt from a crossbow slammed into the side of the house, its poisoned barb passing within inches of Constantine. Another passed a breath from her own face, shattering the window behind her.
She and Constantine worked as one, dodging and whirling. The rain of arrows was short-lived, but followed closely by another assault. Hunters vaulted the deck railing and rushed the steps, swords drawn and slicing the air.
Resa’s mind blanked to everything but battle. They would not kill Constantine. She was like a machine, mowing down all who crossed her path. And at her side, Constantine fought with the skill of a true master, felling one opponent after the next.
“Valians,” Constantine yelled in her direction as a surge of new warriors joined the battle.
Resa did not respond. Reinforcements were welcome. Anything to protect Constantine. The smell of blood and death rose in the air, the sounds of screams and moans mixing with the clash of metal against metal. Alliance hunters found themselves boxed in. Constantine and Resa before them, and Constantine’s forces and the Valians behind them.
Resa lost track of time. It seemed that each time the numbers would dwindle, more would appear. The Alliance must have dispatched several battalions against them. On and on the battle raged. Her arms grew tired and heavy, her lungs heaving and sweat marring her vision.
Suddenly a surge of hunters came at them. There were too many. She screamed at the V’Karian fighting beside her. “Get the Prince to safety. Now!”
To his credit, he did not hesitate to follow her order. Within seconds Constantine was surrounded by V’Karians. His men cleared a path in the battle, forcing him along it. He bellowed in rage, fighting against them but to no avail.
Resa heard him shout her name and it distracted her. For only a moment but long enough for her defenses to slip. The hiss of air was all that alerted her. She dove, escaping the deadly blade that would have separated her head from her body. When she rolled and bounded to her feet, it was to face the one Alliance warrior she’d hoped to never meet in battle. Bram.
With his sword raised over his head and blood in his eyes, “Die,” he growled and swung his sword.
Resa saw death coming for her. But before his blade could reach its mark she was snatched off her feet and carried at breakneck speed through the carnage. She couldn’t see the face of her savior. Couldn’t really see much but a blur, they moved so fast. And whoever her rescuer was, he kept up the pace until they were clear of the battle, headed inland.
When they finally stopped, the man released her and stepped back. One look at him and she was stunned speechless. Silken black hair framed a face that belonged in a dream. Eyes of such a light blue they were like ice, and skin that was so pale, had it not been kissed with a bare tint of gold it would have appeared bloodless. Here was the face the romances spoke of. The ethereal vampire of such beauty, that to set your eyes upon him robbed you of coherent thought.
And most definitely V’Karian. That much she could sense. “Who are you?” she asked.
“My name is Octavian Vazanti, heir to the throne of Ishban Shamurz Burahn, Resch Patahn SoFelh, de the Sybelle De’Fane V’Kar.”
“That was a mouthful. Care to translate?”
“Crown Prince of Valia and High Priest of the Order of the Sisterhood.”
“And you saved me because?”
“Because you carry a Vox Narr.”
“Which is?”
He regarded her in silence for a long time then offered her his hand. “Come with me and I shall explain.”
“I must find Constantine.”
“He is safe.”
“And will be looking for me.”
“No harm will come to you. You have my word.”
Resa hesitated. If he was in fact a priest in the Sisterhoo
d then he held answers. Answers she wanted. But was it a betrayal to Constantine to obtain answers from a man who might be his enemy?
“Do you seek to harm Constantine?”
“I seek to harm none, Resa Vânător.”
It was not his words, but the way he opened his mind and let her see the truth behind them that had her placing her hand in his. Hoping that Constantine would forgive her, she ran with him into the night.
Chapter Eight
Across the globe, in a lavish mansion on the eastern shore of the Mediterranean Sea, a large, muscular man sat alone in the well-stocked library, the only light that of the fading light of the day coming in through the opened doors to the balcony overlooking the sparkling water of the sea.
Another man entered quietly and stopped before the desk.
“Are you quite sure Azarth has made contact?” the man seated spoke without looking up from the document he was reading.
“Positive, sir,” the man in front of the desk replied. “It would seem that Azarth has a hidden agenda we did not suspect. Information indicates that he has switched camps. While outwardly he maintains the appearance of being a loyal follower of the Heir, there is reason to believe that his allegiance may have changed.”
“Are you saying that he now supports the Priest?”
“No, sir. Not entirely. He has had contact with the Priest and their liaisons appear amicable, but thus far no overt actions have been taken.”
“Then what you are saying is that it is nothing but speculation.”
“Not exactly, sir.”
The seated man looked up at the other, pinning him with a stare hard enough to make the man shift uncomfortably from one foot to the other. Leonidas Kahan Branueesh, Primus Nuria, was not a patient man. Or a forgiving one. As the eldest son of the Praetor of Nuria, the desert world of the system of V’Kar, Leonidas commanded respect and obedience. Even in exile. “I suggest you be exact. My patience is wearing thin.”
