by Wilde, Kati
A simple wooden latch secured the door. Swinging it open, she stepped into the dim interior—and froze as her senses registered the presence she’d not heard from outside.
A man. Laying upon a woven mat, his heavy muscles covered with a gossamer cloth. So sheer and light the fabric was, the golden glow of a ward carved into his ribs shone through. And she could not mistake the rough pumping movement of his big fist, or the jutting length that made a tent of the filmy covering.
“Jalisa.” That deep groan sent her gaze flying to his face, but his eyes were closed, his teeth clenched. “I love how you spread those pretty thighs so wide for me. So eager you are for my cock.”
Never had she been eager for any cock. Never had she spread her thighs for anyone.
And never had she heard anyone say her name with such naked want, unfettered by calculation and ambition and greed.
Faster he jerked his thick curving length. His hips arched up from the mat, the gossamer slipping away. “Your cunt…so tight…fill you up, princess, so deep.”
Skin prickling with heat, she watched him bring a gold coin to his mouth and press it to his lips. That firm mouth she knew. That glowing rune she knew. She knew that long black hair and the cheekbones like blades.
The barbarian from the parade.
“Jalisa.” Head back, the cords in his neck stood in sharp relief. “Give your sweet mouth to me as I— Unnnnnh.”
Now he kissed a coin imprinted with her likeness as he grunted and shook, pounding his shaft into his fist before abruptly stilling, ropes of seed splashing across his ridged abdomen.
Chest heaving, he eased his muscular ass down to the mat again. He lay the coin over his heart before rolling his head toward the door in languid motion, as if utterly pleased and spent. He blinked, then regarded her without much reaction while she stared at him, mouth hanging open, every inch of her skin hot and tight and tingling.
“This is the finest dream yet,” he said gruffly, his hungry gaze consuming her from head to toe.
Jalisa closed her gaping mouth. Then opened it again. But…what was there to say?
Except, “Again you are bare, warrior.”
A slow smile curved his firm mouth. “So are you, princess. And more beautiful than ever I imagined.”
For she left nothing to his imagination, standing before him in a transparent shift, with nipples hardened and cunt slick. Because he had just… With her name on his lips.
And the coin.
Silently she backed out of the hut and closed the door. So hard it was to think. Monkeys screeched in the trees. A multitude of birds seemed to be chirping and singing and flapping around inside her brain.
Had she gone mad? Was this a long-delayed scaling of a magic spell—an unraveled hangman’s rope becoming a knotted mind? Or was it the effect of a fever? Was she perhaps still in her bed, drowning in her own lungs?
It couldn’t be. Even vomiting, never in the palace had she been so…unkempt.
Through the door, she called out, “Why are you on my island, warrior?”
It opened. So tall he was, ducking his head to leave the hut. Around his hips he tied a fraying rag barely long enough to cover what she now knew hung between his legs. A small napkin would not have sufficed.
Oh, and so thick and hard his thighs were. And his chest. And his arms.
And his head. “This is your island?” he asked.
“Would I be here if it was not?”
He shrugged his massive shoulders. “It is not my island and yet I am here.”
“All of the Smoking Islands belong to Savadon—which you were supposed to leave and never return. Why are you here?”
He narrowed his eyes as if the answer required deep thought, idly scratching his chest. “A wave swept me from my ship and into the sea.”
Oh. “Then you swam here?”
“Only part of the way. I grabbed hold of a kindly dolphin’s fin and rode upon its back for a few days. But a monster squid attacked the dolphin’s pod, and I only narrowly escaped after cutting through one of its arms. Then the sharks came, but I had lost my sword battling the squid, and so a full night I spent heroically battering them to death with my fists before I could swim the remaining distance.”
May the gods have mercy upon him. The solitude had addled his brain. “How long have you been here alone, warrior?”
“Since two days past your parade.”
It was that storm he’d been swept to sea in? Six months he had been here, then.
Her heart stilled. “Did you eat all of my provisions?”
“Those were also yours?”
“Were?”
He grinned. “Still some are left. I touched none of the prunes. Far better fruits are found in the trees. And I am a mighty hunter. If you fear starving here, you need not.”
“I do not intend to be here.”
His gaze sharpened. “You are not also marooned?”
“Of course not. I do not ride dolphins to islands. I have a ship.”
Sheer relief filled his expression. “Then I will leave with you.”
“And starve upon the sea? How are we to survive a three month voyage to the western shore when you have eaten all the provisions?” Sheer frustration burst from her in a sharp screech. “You thieving pig! If you are such a mighty hunter, could you not have hunted your meals instead of raiding my stores?”
Unbothered he seemed. “So I will hunt and fill them again. Where on the western shore do you go?”
“Grimhold.” She kicked sullenly at the sand, because it was true—the island might provide what she needed. But so long the preparations would take. “Kael the Conqueror seeks a bride.”
So utterly still the barbarian became. His voice deepened as he asked, “And you intend that bride to be you?”
“I do.”
“Did you not disapprove of barbarians from the Dead Lands who killed tyrants and stole their thrones?”
“That is why I would marry him. So he might come and kill a tyrant.”
“Who? Solegius of Aremond?”
Who needed killing, too. But—“I hoped he would start with my father.”
He gave her a doubtful look. “A tyrant he is?”
Throat tight, Jalisa nodded.
“Because he does he not buy you enough silks? Or because he forces you to marry?”
As if she were a silly girl. Fire burned in her gut and she pivoted away from him. “I think instead I will send a ship back for you, warrior.”
The maddening barbarian kept pace with her through the sand. “He is no Solegius of Aremond, murdering and enslaving all those who stand against him.”
“Not for lack of trying.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“He does not fill his mines with slaves, true, but he has enslaved some in other ways. And he orders all who stand against him executed. But the fates conspire against him, because the methods he uses keep failing. And in Savadon, if a hangman’s rope breaks or if an executioner’s axe shatters, the law states they must be sent into exile, instead.”
“Is this what has happened to you—exile? Did you stand against him?”
“No.” Not openly. Not for a long time. “I decided to find someone who might more successfully stand against him.”
“I will do it.”
“I would rather the Conqueror, for I know he killed four tyrant kings with great success.”
“Kael is already married.”
Dead in her tracks she stopped. “Are you certain?”
“I am. My brother and I were hired to bolster the army at the southern pass of Grimhold before we came to Savadon by way of Aremond.” Intensely he regarded her with unreadable expression. “He married a princess from Ivermere.”
Everything within Jalisa deflated—then filled again. Hired to bolster the army. “You are a hired sword?”
“I am.” He gave a wry smile. “Though my sword is at the bottom of the sea.”
She would buy him a new one. “
What is your fee?”
For a long time his dark gaze searched her face, her eyes. Finally he said in a gruff voice, “One night in your bed.”
In astonishment she stared at him. “You want a night in my bed? And that is all?”
Jaw clenched, he gave a single nod.
“Very well. If that is all it will cost me, then we have a deal.” She laughed. “You sell your services so cheaply, warrior.”
His face darkened. “Cheaply?”
“I was willing to marry Kael the Conqueror in exchange for what you offer to me at only the price of my virginity. My whole life I would have spent married to a man I didn’t love, with no other purpose but giving birth to his heirs. You could have asked to marry me, and for me to make you a king, and I would have agreed. Are you certain you do not want that? I do not want you to feel cheated. Especially as this job carries deep risk.”
The skin over his cheekbones drew taut. Hoarsely he said, “I cannot have a wife or a kingdom. When this task is finished, duty calls me elsewhere.”
“Ah.” Duty, she understood all too well. “I would not take advantage of you, warrior. What of a mountain of gold? Will you not ask for that?”
“I cannot carry a mountain of gold upon a horse.”
“I suppose you cannot. So one night it is, then. And in exchange, you hand to me true freedom.” She sighed happily, her chest swelling with emotion. Because if this warrior succeeded, then her freedom would not be temporary. “And it is so much less than I ever expected to pay. Less than I have already paid. So yes, warrior—I think you sell your services very cheaply.”
3
Aruk the Fool
The Illwind Sea
What the princess called cheap might come at the cost of Aruk’s heart. A fool he was. Such a fool. The woman he’d woven so many dreams around did not exist. She had been but a focus for his mind as the endless days passed on the island, burning with frustration that he was trapped in the middle of the Illwind Sea instead of helping his brother fulfill their sacred obligation.
His brother still lived, at least. Even when separated, Aruk could feel the distant presence of his twin like a touch at the back of his head. So he had no fear that whatever obstacles Strax faced upon that tournament route had defeated him.
But he hated that his brother had faced them alone. For no doubt Mara would have nothing to do with him.
What would Strax have given for a single night with her? Aruk suspected that his brother would have given anything. A fine woman she was.
Not a haughty, spoiled princess who demanded that Aruk cover himself, then threatened to put him in chains for exposing a harmless rune, then screeched at him for eating unmarked provisions that had seemed abandoned and left for the very purpose he’d used them: to nourish someone trapped on the island. And now she wanted him to kill a king whom Aruk suspected had done nothing better or worse than any other king. Every ruler punished those who rebelled against him. And these had only known exile? That was not what Aruk called a tyrant.
More probably, this princess rebelled because the husband chosen for her wasn’t to her liking.
And because Aruk was a fool, every part of his heart rebelled at the thought of her taking any husband.
He had not meant to think of her for even a single moment after the parade. She had stirred his cock, true. Because she had smelled so fine, and her mouth was so lush, and her tongue so sharp. The imperious way she looked down at him had fired his blood. And so his first imaginings had been of her beneath him, instead. Not haughty and demanding but writhing and begging.
So very satisfying those imaginings had been. And that should have been the end of them. But although he’d tried, no other woman could he picture while stroking his cock. Until he never even tried to think of other women. His mind had returned to her again and again. So often that it almost seemed as if she had been his companion on this island these past six months.
But the woman he’d conjured in his mind had not screeched. She’d not been spoiled. A sharp tongue she’d still had—but also a warm and generous heart.
The woman he’d conjured would not murder a king or buy a kingdom for the cost of her virginity.
But that was not a price Aruk would truly demand. No night with this princess would he have. For he had no intention of killing her father. Only of escaping this island.
In all his dreams of Jalisa, never had he imagined that it would be she who rescued him. But it was for the best, if time spent with the princess could cure this obsession that ailed him. For even as she’d screeched, his cock and his heart had ached with need for her. As she’d dangled marriage and a lifetime in front of him, so badly he’d wanted to take them.
Yet she seemed quite pleased that he didn’t.
No time had they wasted before leaving. Only two days’ voyage it was back to Savadon, so no need to stock more provisions. Aruk studied her now as he rowed the dinghy to the sailing ship anchored outside the shallow cove. The princess looked as if she might have truly spent six months on an island with him. Sun and wind had pinkened her pale skin. Her hair was a wild tangle. Eyes closed, she sat in the boat with her face lifted to the rising sun, a soft smile on her lips.
“What did you mean when you said I offer you true freedom?”
That smile widened, as if simply the thought brought her renewed joy. “Only that I would not have to be what was intended for me. Instead I will be what I choose to be.”
“You do not wish to be a queen?”
“A queen? That would mean nothing in my father’s kingdom.” Now she looked at him, her gaze so direct. “Never would I rule after my father died. The husband my father chose for me would. The only purpose intended for me is to breed heirs.”
“Is that not a queen’s duty? You do not want children?”
“I want children when I am ready to have children. Not because a husband is ready to get heirs upon me. So I would like to be queen, warrior. What I do not want is to be a bride, whose only purpose is in marriage and breeding and looking pretty.”
“You do not wish to marry?” No husband then would Aruk have to hate.
Or kill.
She shrugged. “Not if it means always bowing to the wishes of a husband or marrying a man who wants the throne more than he wants me. So perhaps I will not marry at all. Perhaps a string of lovers I will take."
Lovers? Aruk couldn’t stop his snarl. His hard pull on the oars sent her swaying backward and forward as she laughed at him.
“You disapprove, warrior? After demanding to be the first of them?”
She was right to laugh. A fool’s reaction it was. Yet jealousy filled his gut and Aruk wanted to demand that he would be her first and her last and her only.
And he would not even be her first. Still he said to her, “You are a virgin. Do you truly know what you agreed to, and what I will do to you?”
“Of course. You will spread my thighs and shove your cock into me and then rut until you spend. Though I hope you will not spend inside me.”
Spilling his seed deep within the hot, wet clasp of her. His shaft stiffened at the mere thought.
Yet that could only be fantasy. “Never would I spend inside a woman who was not my wife.” A woman he could not stay with, if he got her with child.
“Then we are agreed.”
“I do not think we are.” Except in the broadest of details. He hauled back on the oars. “Your legs I would spread. Then I would settle my head between them and feast on your cunt until sweet honey dripped down your thighs.”
Her breath caught. Lips parted, she stared at him.
Another stroke of the oars. His firm grip on them was all that prevented Aruk from reaching for her. “And when you are wet and soft and swollen with your need, then I will sink my cock into you. Again and again. Full deep, never stopping until I feel the hot squeeze of your cunt as you come.”
Her fingers rolled into fists against her thighs. The shift she wore had dried, no longer transparent, yet
still he could clearly see the hardness of her nipples.
“Why would you?” she whispered.
“Why would I fuck you? It is the fee.” One he would never collect. Though he’d begun to wish her father was a tyrant in truth.
“Why make me come? Why care whether I enjoy it at all?”
He frowned. “What sort of man would not care?”
“I think most only care for their own pleasure.”
The sort of men she knew were not men at all, then. “That is my pleasure. Not the hot clasp of your cunt around my cock, sweet though it would be. Pleasure is knowing I made you scream and writhe as I fucked you with it.”
As she squirmed now upon the seat in the boat. As if trying to ease an ache within her.
As if she were already dripping with honey.
Though he’d spent by his own hand less than an hour ago, hot and throbbing his cock was now, knowing that she had imagined what he’d described and her need slickened her cunt.
Breathing harsh, he swung the oars forward out of the water, securing them within the boat. “Give to me a taste.”
Confusion lined her brow. “A taste?”
“Of your cunt. Now.” A night he would not have. But he would have this.
Her eyes narrowed. “My father is not yet dead.”
“And you would not like me to feel cheated by the cheap price I set. What if the taste of you is not what I dreamed? Best I be certain now.”
She bit her lip as if against a laugh. But not only amusement did he see. Temptation was there, too.
“Come stand before me, Jalisa. When I make you come on my tongue, you can also be certain that what I said is how it will be.”
Indecision only warred over her beautiful face for another second. Then she rose, the boat rocking from side to side in the water. He held out his hand to steady her. The trusting curl of her fingers around his also curled around his heart in a tighter grip.
