He sighed. “Though I wish it were different, you can’t claim me, Kit. You know I can never be yours any more than you can be mine.”
For a moment, her eyes clouded with what looked like pain, and he longed to take his words back. He wanted to enfold her within his arms and promise her anything.
Before he could demand she release him from his bonds so he could do just that, however, she whispered, “Shh, I’m no longer a child with silly dreams. This is just foreplay, nothing more.” She took a deep breath and locked gazes with him. “I know the rules we both live by. If I stake a claim on you at all, it is only for this night. We both have nothing more to promise each other.” She smiled, and her eyes glistened with what he hoped was mischief instead of tears. “Now, hush and let a girl do what a girl is of a mind to do.”
Then, without another word, she turned, and straddled his chest once more. But now she faced his cock with her feet tucked up under his arms and along the side of his head so that the backs of her knees rested against his armpits. Her sweet pussy hovered mere heartbeats above his lips.
She smelled of honey and lust, refreshing life-giving manna, and soul-burning spice. His mouth watered and his heart pounded.
Oh, my God Draka, with every breath she took her moist, pink little clit poked its head from between her folds, teasing him, daring him to capture it, begging to be licked.
He stuck out his tongue as far as it would go, striving to snatch the promised nectar. He growled in frustration as no matter how hard he tried, she managed to keep her pussy at least the distance of a breath out of his reach.
Then she placed a hand on each of his thighs, leaned forward, and slipped her mouth over the head of his cock and down its shaft, all the way to the base and back up again and again. His ass bucked off the bed as his body endeavored to follow the path her mouth was taking. He didn’t want to lose the sensation for even a moment before she started her path back down again.
How had that tiny rosebud of a mouth managed to take in the entirety of him? Kitrina was small, especially compared to him, and he…well, he was not. His cock alone was at least ten full inches if it was one. After all, he was male, and like all the other males he had ever known, he’d measured it. And at full hardness, his cock was thicker than his wrist, he’d measured that, too.
A moment later, though, he lost his train of thought as her tongue teased the underside of his cock’s head before lapping its way up and dipping into the hole at its top. Her fingers stroked up and down between his cheeks, playing with his balls and toying with the opening of his ass.
He squirmed.
With her next upswing, she leaned to the side of the bed and grabbed up a tube of something laying on the nightstand. Zander didn’t have a clue as to what his sexy little Kit was up to until she once more attacked his cock with vigor.
On the very next pass down, she slipped one of her now-lubed fingers inside of him, just to the first knuckle initially, then to the second, then all the way in. She held it there.
He almost said Leeky. It was on the tip of his tongue. He’d never had anything put in his ass before, not even during sexual practice and theory when it was common and acceptable to experiment. The thought just hadn’t appealed to him. But then, his sexual practice and theory class hadn’t been with Kitrina.
Quickly, she pulled her finger almost all of the way out then plunged it back in to the hilt while nipping the head of his cock and sucking it all better. Saying anything, especially Leeky, became the last thing on his mind as she repeated the process.
His brain seized, his balls contracted, and his heartbeat became as erratic as his breathing. Though he’d had sex with many partners over the years, he had never truly been fucked himself before this night. He was now, and as long as it was Kitrina doing the fucking, he liked it.
She was in total control of every sensation his body experienced since he was tied down and couldn’t move. It was wonderful, it was magical, and it was freeing. All he need do was lie still and completely submit to her. Allow her free rein. Permit her to do whatever she pleased to pleasure him.
Pressure built deep in his lower back, and his ass spasmed once, then twice, shooting off tiny spirals of delight into every direction. In response, she added a second finger to the first and fucked him faster. Her mouth sucked his shaft hard, and with her other hand, she cradled his balls out of her way, rhythmically squeezing them, fondling.
Zander struggled against his bonds. He wanted to grab her. He needed to flip her over and plunge his cock deep into her sweet little pussy that, even at this very moment, was still so tantalizingly out of his reach.
“Kit, release me now, for God Draka’s sake. I need to fuck you so bad.”
She continued to ass-fuck him, but had the impudence to giggle as his cock popped forth from between her lips. “You aren’t getting loose until I’m ready to set you free, so be a good boy and come already.”
Then her mouth devoured his cock once again.
The little imp. So much for letting her have control even for a minute. He’d show her. He didn’t come on demand. If he came at all, he’d come on his own terms, not hers. He was the man, after all. He was the one in charge here. She just didn’t know it. It was how it had always been and how it should always be. He’d only let her tie him down on a whim, and it would be a freezing cold day in VoT before Zander Hammerstrike came when told to.
Then she added a third finger, pumping his ass ruthlessly while she squeezed his balls with her other hand and sucked his cock as if she here pulling a really thick milkshake up through a straw.
It wasn’t frosty cream she got for her efforts, however.
Before Zander could take another breath or think another thought, his mind exploded as his ass, balls, and cock all contracted at the same time and hot, steamy cum shot upward and out. She swallowed it down as fast as it spurted forward, and the very last thing Zander heard before his mind went totally blank was, “Now see what doing as you’re told gets you? What a good boy you are.”
All he could manage to do was smile like an idiot and wonder how deep the snow covering the ground this very moment in the Valley of Torment really was.
****
“What the pissed-on—”
Kitrina jerked upright as she caught herself a heartbeat before her head would’ve hit the top of her desk.
“—polka-dotted panties gracing the ample arse of a buxom barbarian beauty do ya think the three most important dagger tosses are? Come on, lads and lasses. It’s not that hard. This is first year material.”
She shook her head. The very last thing she needed today was for Leeky Shortz to catch her sleeping in his class. She rubbed her eyes, yawned for the fifth time in the last turn of the hourglass, and cursed herself for her lack of intelligent decision making. Would this day never end?
The pudgy little gnome slipped off his gold dagger-throwing gloves and held up three fingers. Slowly, as if speaking to simpletons, he dropped a finger back in place with each point he made. “There’s the overhand, the underhand, and the flick of the wrist, of course. At least, tell me ya recognize them.”
No one responded, and Kitrina couldn’t help but chuckle to herself as the little gnome hung his head. Leeky replaced his gloves and fisted his hands at his waist. When he glanced back up at the classroom, there wasn’t anything funny about the look in his eyes. “What the putrid pork belly hanging off the oversized middle of an ogre okra eater dancing the hokie-pokie on a barrel of malted barley do ya take me for? Every last one of ya will be staying right here in this room until someone demonstrates a proper dagger toss. And I don’t care if it takes ya entire lunch period ta do it.”
Stay until someone threw a dagger properly? What had she been thinking doing and redoing Zander all night long? It had seemed like such a fine idea at the time, and it had certainly been loads of fun to fuck his brains out until he begged for mercy, but right now, she’d give the left side of her still numb clit for a quarter-turn-of-th
e-hourglass nap, and the only way she was going to get one was during lunch.
Kitrina raised her hand and let her dagger fly. It landed with a thud, sticking straight out from the wall, a heartbeat to the right of Leeky’s ear.
He didn’t even flinch. “Let me rephrase that. Every last one of ya will be staying right here in this room until someone, other than Kitrina, who can do them in her sleep, I might add, demonstrates a proper dagger toss.”
Kitrina groaned. So he had noticed her drowsiness. Could the day get any worse? Even hand-to-hand combat class had been too weird for words this morning. Though it had been nice to see Maycee’s smiling face, it had been Asla’s demeanor that was truly disturbing. The woman had been positively…friendly. Not only had she smiled, even at Ten and Levin, but she had giggled and flirted and laughed at their jokes. It was creepy.
Finally, Zander raised his hand and stood. He looked even more tired than she felt, but he took aim and tossed his three daggers in quick order. The first one overhand, the next underhand, and finally, the last with no more than a flick of his wrist. She let out the breath she wasn’t even aware she’d been holding.
Leeky applauded. “Well done, Prince Hammerstrike.” He glared at the rest of the room. “Ya pecker-heads better practice before tomorrow. Now, what the VoT-roasted tail feathers of a plucked bare-arsed homing pigeon are ya waiting for? Get on outta here and leave a gnome in peace. Class dismissed.”
****
The quick half-turn-of-the-hourglass nap during lunch hadn’t been nearly long enough time to offset the effects of Kitrina’s not so gentle ministrations of the night before. Zander stifled a yawn into his hand as he and Leeky spied on her from the shadows afforded by the depths of the arena. He shook his head. They weren’t spying exactly. It was more simply a matter of being cautious. Nothing wrong with that.
Though he emphatically trusted both of his cousins Graydon and Gareth Sunwalker to keep Kitrina safe during wizard’s class, a second and third pair of eyes in a session filled with random balls of fire flying anywhere and everywhere couldn’t hurt. Especially as long as the hardheaded, willful little chit didn’t know she was being watched.
She was with the troll again, that Maycee chick, and they were laughing and giggling like silly schoolgirls. What the VoT was Kitrina thinking? The pair was standing close enough that if Maycee was of a mind to, the troll could slip a dirk right between Kitrina’s ribs before Zander could even think about reaching her.
He didn’t like it one bit, and he’d voiced his concerns to the stubborn female not a quarter of a turn of the hourglass ago. And had she taken his misgivings into consideration? Obviously not, because she wasn’t paying the least bit of attention to what Maycee was doing now. The troll female had maneuvered herself until she was directly behind Kitrina, leaving the woman he loved completely open and vulnerable to attack.
The woman he loved? Zander groaned. He couldn’t, could he? Had he somehow let the guard he kept firmly around his heart down and allowed himself to fall in love with the one woman he knew could never be his? He sighed as the truth of it hit him square in the gut. He had fallen in love with Kitrina, hopelessly and completely. And when this was all over and done with, no matter how it ended, losing her was going to hurt worse than death itself, because lose her he would. It would be better for both of them if he started backing away from her emotionally. It would make it easier to walk away when the time came. Wouldn’t it?
“What the tainted, ingrown toenails of a hung-over halfling hula dancer trying ta entice a human horticulturist ta munch on her hair pie is wrong with ya, lad? Ya sound as if ya’re dying.”
Zander thought about telling Leeky exactly what was bothering him, but the words died unspoken. After all, what was there to say that could possibly change anything?
Chapter Nine
The last two weeks since the death of Bugger the ogre had dragged by at a snail’s pace, and Kitrina was tired of constantly looking over her shoulder, of being on guard, always watchful, always ready for an attack from the remaining two commanders that hadn’t yet come. She longed for something, anything to move this quest along and get it over with. And if the bickering in hand-to-hand combat class this morning was any indication, the others involved in the quest to keep her and the Dragon Heart Opal safe were just as on edge as she was.
“It’s not your turn to spar with Asla, it’s mine. So, back off…you…you overgrown buffoon, and let the firstborn show the lady how it’s done right.” Ten punched Levin in the gut hard enough to cause him to lose his balance and end up flat on his ass in the middle of the floor.
Levin, the half-halfling, half-barbarian behemoth jumped to his feet, his face blood red, his bushy eyebrows drawn together, and his hands clenched into tight fists ready to fight. “You sparred with Asla first yesterday, so just keep your paws to yourself, short stuff. It’s my turn. And don’t be trying to pull that firstborn crap on me. In class, we’re equals. Mothers said so.”
“They did not,” Ten countered.
“They did, too,” Levin argued.
Out of the corner of her eye Kitrina watched Wally moving toward them quickly, and she stepped between the brothers in hopes of defusing the situation before it got out of hand.
“Is there a problem here yout need me to settle for yout?” Walaford Titwilder was obviously just as antsy as the rest of them, and if the look on his face was any indication, he was as ready for a fight as they were.
Kitrina needn’t have wasted her time, though, as Asla took care of the disagreement without so much as lifting a finger or her voice. In no more than a whisper, she pleaded, “Ten, Levin, stop, please. I’ll spar with both of you at the same time, I promise. I don’t want you guys fighting over me. It hurts my…feelings, and it’s drawing Professor Titwilder’s attention.”
Both men immediately backed away from each other and grinned at the blonde barbarian female as if she were the last woman on Albrath and they were both her devoted servants.
“Nope,” Ten answered for them both. “Wall—I mean Professor Titwilder. No problem here.”
Kitrina didn’t get it. Why was Asla still acting as if she actually liked anyone who wasn’t a high-born barbarian, especially Ten and Levin? It wasn’t just out of character for the coldly beautiful female, it was creepy. It was almost as if Wally Titwilder’s whacking off her long blonde braid during that first day of hand-to-hand combat class had also somehow removed her ability to be nasty. It simply didn’t make sense.
And it wasn’t just Ten and Levin she was working her charms on either. Zander’s ex-fiancée was being pleasant to everyone around her. In the last two weeks alone, Kitrina herself had been on the receiving end of more smiles and apologies for past bad acts than she could possibly begin to keep track of. It made her skin crawl.
Even Maycee had made comments to the effect. “Isn’t it nice to see Asla making the effort to fit in and play nice with others?”
Well, Kitrina didn’t believe it, and she wasn’t buying Asla’s act for the time it would take a single grain of sand to slip through an hourglass. If there was one thing life had taught her long ago, it was that a leopard didn’t change its spots mid-leap and a mean, spiteful female didn’t suddenly change her ways either.
Ten and Levin could trust Asla and play along with her games all they wanted. But one thing was certain, Kitrina wasn’t going to be that easy to convince or that gullible.
****
Zander wasn’t sure exactly why, but he had been following Kitrina around from class to class, watching her every move from the luxury of the shadows for the last week. Not that he didn’t trust her or those he had set to guard her, for he did. It was just that he knew the longer this quest continued and the more prolonged the wait for the two remaining commanders to show themselves became, the task grew more and more tedious and the chances of becoming complacent and careless increased. He cared too VoT much to take chances with Kitrina’s safety.
Not that he had allowe
d her to be privy to his worries or to what he’d been up to. Oh, no, he knew better than to permit Kitrina Dragonheart, rogue extraordinaire and leader of this quest, to find out he’d been…spying on her. After all, by delegating leadership to her, he’d put himself in the role of her underling. Underlings did not spy on their liege lords. It wasn’t done.
But then sometimes circumstances dictated the necessity to step outside convention and simply do what must be done. And there really was no need to inform Kitrina of his suspicions until there was something tangible he could give her as proof. After all, it wasn’t her he didn’t trust. He had complete faith in Kitrina and her abilities. It was that VoT irritating troll, Maycee, he had a problem with. The green-skinned, greasy-haired, yellowed-tusked pain in his arse seemed forever to be underfoot and way too close to wherever Kitrina was during every waking moment of the day.
And no matter how many times Kitrina assured him that the friendship between the two women was nothing more than a camaraderie of like minds with no sinister plots being planned or hatched on Maycee’s part, he wasn’t buying it.
Though Kitrina was, without question, a smart, savvy rogue and could take care of herself in almost any situation imaginable, she was also…well…female and just as vulnerable to the absence of other female company as the next girl.
Female companionship had been lacking in Kitrina’s life lately. With the constant testosterone overdosed association of not only Zander but also Talon, Leeky, Pierced, Steve, Graydon, Gareth, Wally, Ten, and Levin, any chance of the influence of female hormones in the vicinity had been extremely rare.
And it had become blatantly apparent to Zander that Kitrina trusted Maycee and didn’t believe for a moment the troll had ulterior motives for seeking out her company. They’d even argued about it…heatedly and repeatedly.
But Zander’s spiritmaster sensibility had been screaming at him for the last two weeks that Maycee’s motives were not to be trusted. A deafening roar in his mind so loud that it made his eyes hurt and his heart heavy. A warning that had never once been proven wrong and wasn’t likely to be now.
Tamed by the Fire Page 12
