by Aubrey Ross
Mystic Keepers 1: Cayenne
Aubrey Ross
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2004 by Aubrey Ross
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Prologue
Calling upon eighteen cycles of training, Malik Cendar stood proud and tall before the Matriarch of the Order of Flame. The Presentation was part of Pim Noctar. It must be endured if he hoped to gain approval to bond with his chosen mate, and he had chosen no ordinary mate.
Matriarch Flame moved around him in a slow assessing circle. Though countless wrinkles creased her skin, her waist-length hair remained the vivid blending of chocolate brown and fiery red shared by every member of her Order. “You are nicely formed, young Frost.”
Was she too senile to remember his name? Or did she think… Focus, Cendar!
He snapped himself back to attention. Every eligible Frost male coveted the Flame Heiress. Her family was reputed to possess the most powerful iede in the dimension. Wealth, prestige, and authority were all determined by the strength of mystic iede and as the mate of the Flame Heiress, Malik would share in her power.
All that stood between him and his goal was the approval of this stubborn old woman. Determination surged through Malik, helping him focus. He inclined his head respectfully, acknowledging her comment.
“Please disrobe.”
Unflinching, he reached for the fastenings of his tunic. A crackling fire leapt merrily in the massive hearth, mocking him with its dancing light. Smooth firestone walls surrounded them, sculpted and seamless. A cage for all but the most powerful sorcerer.
He’d suspected it would come to a full demonstration of his virility. With the future of the Order of Flame on the line, why would the Matriarch settle for anything less? But if she intended for him to perform, where were the attendants? By all the furies of Frozen Hell, she better not intend to do it herself!
Defiant now, he faced the old woman and clasped his hands behind his back.
Matriarch Flame chuckled and turned to the smooth firestone wall. She chanted softly, spreading her hands first side to side, then top to bottom. A doorway appeared. Three young women entered, their diaphanous dresses floating and fluttering as they moved.
They lined up in front of Malik, eyes downcast.
“Which maid pleases you most, Frost Keeper?”
“It matters not, Matriarch Flame. I have already completed my purification. I will not mate again until I am fully bonded.”
She smiled broadly, apparently pleased by his answer. “Your intended mate is my granddaughter. I must be certain you are compatible and worthy of this great honor before I initiate the Pim Noctar.”
“I understand.” It had taken nearly a cycle for the Flame Council to process his application. He had no intention of failing now, despite whatever tests the crafty Matriarch had in store.
A softly spoken directive from the old woman set the middle girl in motion. She knelt before him, never so much as raising her gaze.
Here we go! He steeled himself for the humiliation of performing like a trained animal.
The attendant stroked her warm hands up his thighs. Fixing his gaze on an invisible point directly ahead of him, he waited for the first brush of her fingers against his flaccid cock. Heat. Tingling, prickly sensations enveloped his sac and he looked down. Her head was bent, her mouth open wide, nearly touching his balls, and she was -- breathing on him!
Damn! He hadn’t counted on Flame iede.
Warmth invaded his abdomen and swirled around his cock. The sensation passed through his flesh in a lazy spiral, drawing blood to the reluctant appendage. When he was hard and throbbing the kneeling attendant raised her head and smiled into his resentful eyes.
“I understand your vow, but this will be over more quickly if I take you in my mouth. Would that be acceptable to you?”
Feeling less violated, he nodded, canting his hips to bring his erect cock within easy reach. She cupped his balls, massaging them gently while her wet mouth slid as far down his shaft as she could reach. Groaning, he fought against the pleasure, but gods her mouth was hot! Back and forth that silken mouth slid. Not a hint of teeth, just the firm circle of her lips and the unbelievable heat.
She pulled back, suckling the sensitive head of his cock like he would suckle a nipple. Clenching his fists against his thighs, he widened his stance. She swirled her tongue around and around. He gasped. His balls pulled up tightly, pulsing.
“Now, Mistress Flame, now!” He ground out the words between clenched teeth.
The girl quickly ducked out of the way and Malik pumped his seed into the Matriarch’s waiting palm. She examined the milky liquid objectively, shooting Flame iede from her fingertips, creating a soft red glow.
“You are potent and compatible with our iede.” She paused, the substance evaporating in a puff of pink smoke. “But are you worthy?”
Malik panted, bracing his hands against his knees as his body cramped with the need to -- rut!
Detailed images bombarded his mind and stimulated his senses. He saw the attendant’s supple thighs part, revealing her glistening cunt. Bright red pubic hair cut short accented her folds, displaying her clit. She parted herself invitingly. He accepted the offer in one brutal thrust. She screamed. Pleasure? Pain? It terrified him to realize he didn’t care. He pounded into her like a ravenous beast.
This isn’t real!
But the images continued, becoming progressively more graphic. He lay on his back enthusiastically licking the pussy of one attendant while another straddled his hips, eagerly fucking him. The third guided his fingers to her sopping folds…
“No!” he shouted. “I will not be tempted! I will mate with Cayenne and not before.”
“Out!” The Matriarch’s voice cracked like a whip and the attendants rushed from the chamber.
Malik’s senses gradually cleared. The frantic mental compulsion released, but his cock still throbbed painfully.
“Malik Cendar of the Order of Frost, I find you worthy of Cayenne Dover, Heiress to the Order of Flame. May your bonding be successful and your offspring strong.”
“I thank you, gracious Matriarch.” He managed to rasp out the traditional response. “I will not rest until my mate is satisfied.”
“That is good to hear, young Frost.” She nodded toward his raging erection. “I have set Pim Noctar in motion. Get thee to thy mate! You have no time to lose.”
Chapter One
“You’re a psych major,” Cayenne Dover said as she poured coffee into her companion’s mug. “What does it mean when a person has exactly the same dream over and over?”
“That depends on the dream.”
Setting the glass carafe on the warmer, she pursed her lips impatiently. “You’ll never get rich as a psychologist with answers like that.”
“I plan to
be a child psychologist and I don’t expect to get rich.” Julie smiled, blowing delicately on her steaming coffee. “Now, tell me about your dream.”
“I never said it was my dream.” A chuckle disrupted her protest, so Cayenne shrugged and explained. “The dream started about three weeks ago. The first one was fairly harmless, but each one that followed grew more intense.”
“Then they aren’t identical.”
Cayenne hesitated. Julie was the only one of her three tenants she’d even consider having this conversation with. Still the erotic nature of her dreams made Cayenne uncomfortable. “Forget I brought it up.” Cayenne pushed back her chair and gathered the plates. “Isn’t Paul picking you up soon?”
Julie caught her wrist, returning the dirty dishes to the table. “There is no way in hell you’re getting out of this. Sit back down and talk to me.”
Reluctantly, Cayenne sank to her chair. Julie was three years her junior, but infinitely more experienced when it came to men. Or at least sex.
“It’s only been in the last few dreams that I… you know. Before that I always woke up too soon.”
Wrapping both hands around her mug, Julie stared at her with unwavering interest. “Start at the beginning. Tell me everything.”
“This is some perverted fascination, not a desire to help me.” Cayenne softened the criticism with a quick smile. “I was only aware of him to begin with. I can never see him clearly. I just know he’s there.”
“You’re talking about a dream, right? You don’t have a stalker or something?”
Blowing a strand of hair out of her eyes, Cayenne chuckled. “No, I don’t have a stalker.”
“What does he look like?”
“Do you know who Mark McGrath is?”
“The lead singer of Sugar Ray?”
Cayenne nodded. “Well, picture him in about ten years.”
Whistling soft and low, Julie gave her approval. “Works for me. So what happens in these dreams, or do I even need to ask?”
“He comes to me --”
“And makes you come?” Julie grinned. “Sweetheart, it doesn’t take a psych major to figure out what your dreams are about. You need to trade in your vibrator for a real live man! When was the last time you --”
“I think I hear Paul’s car in the alley.”
“Oh, don’t get all pissy. Your subconscious is just telling you what your mind refuses to accept. You need to get laid!”
Cayenne shoved her chair back and stood. “And for this I cooked you pasta?”
Julie laughed uproariously. “Paul has got a friend that will give you the ride of your life, if you just want to fool around. He’s hung like a horse, but only sort of house broken.”
“Sounds charming.”
“Sounds like exactly what you need for a night or two. Bet it would cure you of these bizarre dreams.”
A car horn interrupted their conversation.
“You’re ditching me with the dishes, aren’t you?” Cayenne watched her friend cross to the back door.
“It’s Paul,” she said, grabbing her purse off the counter.
“Have fun.”
“You too.” Julie blew her a kiss and breezed out the door.
Grumbling all the while, Cayenne did the dishes -- alone.
She loved to cook, but hated cleaning up the inevitable mess. Julie generally spent each weekend with Paul as Cayenne didn’t allow overnight guests. Her other two tenants had gone home for the summer, so Cayenne had her house to herself.
Her semi-playful conversation with Julie echoed through her mind as she showered, hoping to cool off before going to bed. Was she so sexually frustrated that it was affecting her dreams?
The mere thought of her dream lover made her nipples tingle and her clit throb. Closing her eyes, she faced the tepid spray. The water slicked her hair back from her face. She arched her neck.
Hot blood coursed through her veins in sharp contrast to the cool rivulets streaming over her skin. Turning the faucet, she waited for the spray to chill. The water hissed as it hit her heated flesh. Her pussy ached, hollow and needful.
The image of his face formed within her mind, rugged features, sharp gray eyes. He’d started out gentle, tender, seeming almost hesitant to touch her, afraid he’d frighten or harm her. But last night he’d -- even in her mind she hesitated over the word -- fucked her, hard and fast, dominating her with his strength, overwhelming her with his passion.
She moaned.
Cupping her breasts, she gasped. Her skin was hot to the touch, feverish. The heat was so intense her nipples burned her fingers.
What was wrong with her?
Julie’s initial response had kept Cayenne from admitting the dark turn her dreams had taken in the last few days. Did she secretly long to be dominated by a lover? Her body had certainly responded with wild abandon in her dreams.
Her legs wobbled so badly she feared she’d slip if she tried to get out, but she’d never been more desperate for her trusty vibrator! She raised the showerhead, keeping the cool water flowing over her as she leaned against the shower stall.
She slipped one hand between her thighs and cried out. Her clit was so swollen and sensitive the slightest caress was painful. She pressed her palm over her mound, whimpering. If it hurt to touch her clit, she couldn’t make herself come.
And her whole body ached for release.
Tears blurred her vision. She pushed away from the slick tiles. Trembling and miserable, Cayenne turned off the water and got out of the shower.
She felt sunburned.
She felt empty.
The softest towel she owned abraded like sandpaper. Even the soles of her feet stung.
Naked, sobbing helplessly, she stumbled into her bedroom.
Malik caught Cayenne to his chest as she collapsed against him. He had given her as long as he dared, courting her gently through shared dreams. But his need for her sweet body could no longer be denied!
If the heat radiating off her flesh was any indication, she was more than ready for the bonding. Curving his finger beneath her chin, he brought her face up until their eyes met. Each of her deep, anxious breaths filled her with his scent and the powerful pheromones emanating from his pores. Breathe, rijnna mi, breathe!
Her hands moved restlessly against his chest. Pressing his aching cock into her soft belly, he studied her features.
Though she’d chosen a style far shorter than customary, the color of her hair was so glorious he didn’t mind the sleek, short style. A rich blending of brown and fiery red, her hair could only belong to a Flame Keeper.
“What’s happening to me?”
Her pink tongue darted out, wetting her lower lip.
He groaned. Oh, to feel that tongue trail across his belly and circle the head of his cock!
“Pim Noctar, Cayenne. Your body yearns for its mate.”
“That’s one bizarre pick up line,” she muttered, rubbing her mons against his thigh. “Am I dreaming? I must be. I know you. You’re the one…” Her pupils nearly eclipsed her irises and her entire body was flushed. Though her thinking seemed muddled, she clung to him.
“What we are feeling is no simple lust, rijnna mi. This is a sacred bonding. Part your lips. Let me kiss you.”
Her hot breath escaped, filling his mouth. She tasted of Flame iede and passion. He traced her lips with the tip of his tongue, teasing, nibbling, and licking, before he pushed inside. She groaned. He delved deeper, took more.
He cupped her breast, gently abrading the nipple. She squirmed. Gods, her breasts were perfection! He squeezed one soft mound while he circled the crest with his tongue. Gathering Frost iede, Malik blew across her skin.
She gasped. “That’s cold. Oh, it tingles. What did you just do?”
He grinned and increased the intensity of the iede. “This.” He exhaled his frosty breath again.
Shivering violently, she clasped his shoulders and arched her back. Her nipples gathered into jewel-like peaks, the color deepening from
rose to scarlet. He carefully caught one highly stimulated tip between his teeth and applied gradual pressure as he sent a steady stream of chilly iede directly into the tiny openings.
She cried out sharply and trembled as he triggered a shuddering orgasm in a way only Frost Keepers could.
Cayenne couldn’t remember falling asleep, but this was by far the most intense dream she’d ever had. Malik. Her lover’s name was Malik Cendar. She knew it as surely as she knew her own. This was the first time she’d seen his face clearly, but his muscular body and softly accented voice had filled her dreams for weeks.
The fever subsided a bit with her pleasure. He settled his mouth over her breast again, licking and suckling, making her tingle and shiver. She pushed her fingers into his frost-tipped hair, expecting the stiff sticky drag of too many styling products. The strands slid softly between her fingers, then sprang naturally back into spikes. How odd. How wonderful.
She was standing naked in her bedroom with a veritable stranger, and nothing had ever felt more right.
More perfect.
More preordained.
He knelt before her and she whimpered. She loved the gentle swirl of a man’s tongue against her clit, so intimate, so tender. Nothing made her come faster or harder than oral stimulation.
“I hope you like this, Cayenne, because I’ve dreamed about having my mouth on you for over a cycle. I’m ravenous for the taste of you.”
His words, so in keeping with her thoughts, sent tingles up her spine.
He lifted her leg to his shoulder and she steadied herself against the bedpost. Expecting him to dive right in, she held her breath while his gaze moved over her exposed flesh.
“Oh, rijnna mi, you are exquisite.” He inhaled deeply, holding her scent inside his body for a long time. He parted her folds and traced her slit with his tongue, back and forth, back and forth, never touching her throbbing clit.
“Please, Malik.” She arched, trying to bring his taunting caress where she needed it most.
His cool breath heightened her smoldering heat.
