Kisri: ... and the Beast, Book 2

by Moira Rogers

  Which meant soon she’d be safe under the watchful eye of her cousin, whose wrath no one would dare test. The long months of guarding her virtue against men determined to claim her birthright would be over.

  So would her long months of relative freedom. When Mal turned his attention once more to the mundane matters of day-to-day life, the unmarried state of the youngest royal lioness would not go unnoticed.

  That he might force her into an undesired mating was unimaginable, but his tolerance was limited. She doubted it would extend to open-mindedness when it came to her observance of the rules of courtship. She’d go to her husband’s bed a virgin, ignorant of all of the ways one found pleasure in a mate. Ignorant of passion, and how to choose a man who could inspire it.

  This was her last chance…and perhaps her greatest opportunity. Ennon was a man with little to gain. He had the High Lord’s ear, estates and riches beyond the average man’s imagining, not to mention his pick of women. Claiming her could cost him more than he could hope to gain.

  Foolishness. Kisri rested her chin on her paws and relaxed, banishing temptation. Ennon might stir her curiosity, but even her inexperienced instincts recognized the danger. A girl should not play games with a warlord.

  Even if learning the rules from him would be—

  No. She’d ignore Ennon’s grace and strength and the odd way her body tightened when he stalked past her with such intensity.

  She would.

  Perhaps.

  Chapter Two

  The sun was high in the sky the next morning when Ennon finally ventured to Kisri’s corner of the tent. She barely stirred, still deep in sleep.

  It was a sleep that had claimed the last twelve hours, but he found himself reluctant to wake her. How exhausting must it have been for her to stay on constant guard, fending off unwanted advances?

  It ignited his temper, and rage bubbled up inside him in a low boil. She’d had enough of men humping her leg, and it strengthened his resolve not to touch her, no matter how the sweet curves of her body called to him.

  He could have taken her during their run. She’d wanted to play, nothing more, but the way she’d felt when he’d pinned her… Ennon knew it would only have been a matter of saying the right things. Seduction, not force, though sometimes the line between the two was thin, indeed.

  “Kisri.” He knelt by her cot, putting himself lower than her out of instinct. “Kisri, wake up.”

  She murmured and tugged at the coarse blanket, bundling it under her chin as she nuzzled her cheek deeper into the pillow. “Is it morning?”

  “A bit past. I can hear your stomach rumbling.”

  Her nose scrunched up. “That is a rude thing to make note of, First Warlord.”

  Rude, yes, and that made it safe. Safer than having her stare up at him with soft, dark eyes. “’Tis the truth, is it not?”

  “I could tolerate breakfast.” She emerged from beneath the covers and stretched, showing off bare, well-toned arms, no doubt strengthened from training with the sword she carried. When her eyes opened, amusement stood plain in her gaze. “I hope you polish your manners better when you set out to woo ladies.”

  “I don’t woo ladies,” he answered seriously. “They usually swoon in my presence, and then I have only to catch them.”

  “How positively lazy of them.” She sat, keeping the blanket pressed to her chest with one hand. “Do I have to dress myself in front of you too? What if you swoon? You’re far too heavy to be caught.”

  “Better if I go, then,” he agreed. “I can fetch your lunch, if you like. I’m afraid it is far too late for breakfast.”

  Her sweet, open smile tugged at him and transformed her face from striking to beautiful. “That would be welcome, thank you.”

  He nodded and rose. “Call out if you need me. I will hear.”

  It was the quickest trip he’d ever made to the cook tent, only long enough to fetch a kettle of soup and a basket packed with breads and fruits. Ennon paused outside his test and rapped on the frame, to be sure Kisri had had time to dress.

  “Ennon?” No more than his name, but tension wreathed the word.

  Immediately, he cursed himself for his lack of thought. “Just me. May I come in?”

  “Of course.”

  Something clattered as he pushed aside the tent flap in time to see her removing her hand from the hilt of her sword. She smiled wryly. “I should know better. Who would dare cross the First Warlord?”

  If only it were that simple. If the need to mate could drive a sane man crazy, drive him to claim a lioness against her will, it could most certainly make a smart man stupid. “Yes, who?” She held the flap as he carried in the kettle and basket. “I have wine. If you’d like something else, I shall have to fetch that too.”

  “This is fine,” she promised. She was dressed in men’s clothing again—or boy’s clothing. Small enough to fit her frame, and tight enough to hug her hips and outline the firm swell of her breasts. She sat on one stool and pulled her heel up to the edge, resting her chin on her knee as she watched him. “You are worried, aren’t you? Surely you have things to do, but you don’t stray far from this tent.”

  The moment her charm had shattered, she had become his priority. “I have left instructions to notify me if—” A loud roar interrupted his words, and he nodded toward the edge of the camp. “See there? Our messenger, hopefully returned with word of your cousin.”

  An odd emotion flickered in her eyes, something that might have been disappointment. “He’s close then? We could be with him by sundown.”

  “No, of course not.” Would she be sad if they parted ways so soon? “The messenger simply traveled to a nearby camp to see a wizard there, one who can communicate with a colleague traveling with Mal.”

  “I see.” He definitely detected an edge of relief as she lowered her eyes and reached for a piece of bread. Her body language was different this morning, a mixture of shyness and bravery. “I’d better eat, then, if we have a long way to travel.”

  He wouldn’t know how far until he received Mal’s message. “I’ll be right back.”

  The messenger was out of breath and carefully sipping water when Ennon strode outside. “Have you news from the High Lord?”

  A jerky nod. The soldier dragged in a deep breath and managed to get out the message. “The High Lord bids you leave the main army under the command of the Second Warlord and bring the Lady Kisri to him at once. Personally. He’s at the far western camp.”

  It was exactly as Ennon had anticipated. “I’ve already begun preparations to do so. We leave in one hour.”

  Kisri had run with him the night before, and sadness had overtaken her when the messenger had returned so soon. She seemed to want to spend time with him…but how would she feel about traveling alone with him, with nothing to fend him off but his own honor?

  Honor that could soon find itself in short supply.

  No matter. The High Lord had spoken, and Ennon would obey.

  They made good time, but it was still only a matter of hours before they had to make camp. Ennon had carefully paced their travel, and he watched Kisri closely for signs of overexertion.

  She was tired. A fool could see it, but every time he drew too close she snarled, ears pressed back against her head, teeth bared. It wasn’t until she stumbled that she allowed him to check their progress. Even then her back was stiff with the same pride that laced her thoughts. “I am no weakling.”

  It sparked his own temper. “Only a fool flouts his limitations without reason. We are in no danger. We should not push ourselves.”

  Her footsteps faltered. She stopped, her head low, and capitulated with an attempt at grace that failed to hide her trembling anger. “I will be guided by you.”

  “But you will not like it.”

  “You have my obedience. Would you demand my submission too?”

  Her submission. He almost stumbled at the thought. What would she be like, on her belly for a man? Being of such high birth,
she was almost certainly a virgin…or was expected to be one, at least. Plenty of noble women had successfully played the part of the innocent when they were anything but. Hell, he’d had his share of them himself.

  But not like Kisri.

  He shifted forms, but even his attuned clothing did little to hide the arousal she’d elicited. “I demand nothing of you,” he told her as he slid the similarly enchanted packs from his shoulders.

  Magic tripped up his spine. She blurred, became a human woman kneeling in the grass, clad only in a thin, flimsy shift that did little to conceal her body. “You demand nothing of me,” she agreed, lifting her chin. “It should be a relief.”

  He ordered himself not to ask, for all the good it did. “Is it not a relief, sweet Kisri?”

  “I wish it to be a relief.” She shivered, and the fabric clinging to her breasts couldn’t hide her tight nipples or the flush rising toward her neck. “I have never—” An awkward pause. “I liked boys. They would steal kisses, and I would slap their hands if they wandered too freely, and I was always in control. But I grew bored of boys.”

  His hands moved of their own volition, stripping off his leather vest, and he could barely hear his own words over the blood pounding in his ears. “Men are not so easily controlled.”

  “I know.” She didn’t seem alarmed by his actions. Anticipation sparked in her eyes, as did nervousness. “I enjoy my freedom. What man would take me without taking my independence? My life?”

  He was the wrong man to ask. Plenty of soldiers had mates waiting for them to return from the battlefields now that the war was over, but Ennon had never even flirted with the idea. “I don’t know. The right man?”

  Her eyes lit. “You don’t want a mate. You don’t need my fortune.”

  “No.” The only thing he desired was to take her, make her cry out as he pleasured her with his tongue.

  She fisted her hands and rested them on her thighs. “Perhaps we could come to an arrangement. If you found me appealing enough to bed, that is. I could…satisfy my curiosity about men. And you would be free to go your own way once you delivered me to my cousin.”

  Malrion would murder him, pure and simple, and the knowledge didn’t stop him from considering her offer. “It’s a dangerous game to play, Kisri. If we were found out…”

  “Then I’d be like every other noble woman who dared to take her pleasure into her own hands. I’d be no less valuable than I am now. It’s not my body that brings them to my door, touched or untouched.”

  A convenient truth, one that made it too easy to step closer. What harm could it do? As she said, she would be fine, no worse for the wear. And Ennon could take care of himself, even if he had to brave Mal’s wrath. “Are you certain?”

  She rocked to her feet. Her shift fluttered around her thighs, leaving her long, lean legs bare. “How can I be certain when I barely understand my own needs? I’m asking you to let me learn with you. Is it so different than any other type of sparring?”

  She deserved the truth. “It could be exactly like that, and you should know how that can end.”

  “With mating?” She tilted her head and studied him. “I’m aware of the risks. But I understand if you find them sufficient deterrent.”

  “You’re the one who’s worried about her freedom. I can’t think of a worse hell than being mated to someone I could not have.”

  She flinched a little, drawing in on herself. Backing away. “I don’t need you to fret over my heart or be gentle with my ego. If you don’t wish to bed me, for whatever reason, simply say so.”

  The words startled him. “You think I’m talking about you?”

  “I don’t know what you’re doing.” It was very close to a snarl, the anger not strong enough to hide the sting of rejection in her eyes. “I’m practically naked in front of you and all you care to do is talk. Even a virgin can tell that you don’t want to touch me. At least be man enough to admit it.”

  “You’re mistaken.” Ennon kept a tight leash on his temper, and he gave her plenty of time to escape before dragging her close to his body, to his arousal. “Say it once more—that I don’t want to touch you. Say it with my cock pressed against your belly.”

  Her breath came in short little hitches, and her head fell back, her eyes fluttering shut. “Your body wants me. It makes me float. I want to know how high I can fly.”

  So many years at war had given him a highly developed sense for danger, and that’s exactly what she was. “I accept your proposition.”

  Small but strong fingers curled around his arms. She stroked him, exploring, and eased her hands up. Her nails pricked his skin, and a sleepy smile curved her lips. “Play with me, Ennon. I don’t know the rules, but I’ve always been a most attentive student.”

  “I believe it.” She might fumble, but she was eager, and that was the most pleasurable thing of all. “Would you like to kiss me?”

  She was fast, limber. One hop and she had those legs wrapped around his hips, her arms around his neck. Her lips found his chin first, fluttering tiny little kisses along his jaw, her nose nuzzling his cheek. Then she licked the corner of his mouth and all but purred. “I like how you taste.”

  Or perhaps she wouldn’t fumble at all. His cock throbbed as he wrapped his fingers around her bare thighs and captured her mouth, urging her lips apart. Heaven. He sipped her and hungered for more, insane when his mouth had not yet left hers.

  Eager though her body was, her kiss was awkward. Curious. She licked at his tongue and shivered, a reaction impossible to miss with her body pressed to his. So easy to read her responses in her unashamed moans and eager squirming—easier when her shift rode up and her naked cunt pressed to his abdomen.

  He groaned. She was wet already, and his head spun. He wanted to spill her to the ground, but he hadn’t laid out bedrolls or even started a fire. “Kisri.”

  This time her nails dug into his shoulders. “What?”

  He marveled at how calm he managed to sound. “We need to set up camp before we do this.”

  Dark eyes studied him, the slightest hint of suspicion there, as if she anticipated a trick. “And then you will take me?”

  If he tried to walk away, his traitorous body would root him to the spot. “Yes, I will take you. My way.”

  “Your way?”

  “My way.” He set her down and turned to his packs. She’d never known a man’s touch, much less the sweet way one could lose control. She would spit and scratch, fight the pleasure until she was ready to give in.

  The thought weakened his knees, and he moved faster, hurriedly readying their camp.

  Chapter Three

  By the time Ennon had built a fire and smoothed out their bedrolls, Kisri was sure she would break under the heavy weight of anticipation that made every moment last twice as long as the one before.

  She felt edgy. Hungry. She was not so innocent that she did not know her own body and what touches could give it pleasure, but the memory of her own fingers seemed to pale when compared to Ennon’s mouth over hers.

  If he walked away now, she might weep from the throbbing frustration.

  He stared down at the fire long after it had caught. “Are you hungry?”

  “Yes.” Not for food, and he was a fool if he believed she was. “I’m starving. I’m hurting.”

  Ennon rose to his full height and held out his hand. “Come here.”

  If she’d moved any faster, she might have tumbled to the ground in a graceless heap. Her fingers closed around his, and even that touch felt like holding her hand too close to a flame.

  He placed her hand on his chest and slipped one arm around her waist. “We start with more kissing.”

  Impatience bubbled up, and she curled her fingers, scoring his chest lightly in warning. “You won’t stop again, will you?”

  “No.” A simple denial, echoed by the hot shadows in his eyes. “I won’t stop this time, not until you’ve found your pleasure.”

  Not his pleasure, she noticed,
but there was time enough to convince him otherwise. To satisfy her curiosity about the heavy erection that had pressed against her stomach, hard and unyielding. “Should I kiss you?”

  He tilted her head back. “Open your mouth.” As soon as she obeyed, he pressed his parted lips to hers. His tongue glided over hers, hot and wicked.

  This was what she wanted. Needed, even. She spread her fingers wide on his chest and appreciated the way he was built. Strong. Solid. He would be a fitting tutor in the arts of pleasure, because she would never need to be less than she was with him.

  His hand dropped to the curve of her ass, and he squeezed gently. “Take it off. The shift.”

  She could number the times she’d been naked in front of a grown man on one hand. Her hands shook as she eased the flimsy fabric up, over her head, and let it fall to the ground.

  Ennon groaned. “You’re a vision, Kisri. Beautiful.”

  “Thank you.” A soft breeze tickled her skin and stirred her hair. Her nipples were painfully tight, aching in a way that would be soothed by nothing except him. “Will you touch me?”

  He made a quiet noise and took her hands, tugged her down to the wide bed he’d laid near the fire. “Lie back and let me look at you.”

  Slow. Deliberate. She’d expected passion and hasty touches, something so wild she could lose herself. Stretching out before him felt like an offering, one she had to choose.

  She did, leaning back on her elbows with her fingers fisted around the blanket. Pressing her legs together didn’t help relieve the ache, but it gave her the tiniest shred of modesty. “I think I should be able to look at you too.”

  Ennon knelt beside her and drew one finger slowly down her middle, from the hollow of her throat to her navel. “You wish me naked, do you?”

  “Of course.” The heat from her cheeks wasn’t from the fire. “Or are you so well-endowed you fear my virgin nerves will shatter and I’ll flee into the woods?”