Courting Kel (20 page)

Two warriors opened her double doors. Without a backward
glance she went through, continuing inside until she heard the doors shut.

Aren, tak the gods, had yet to return from his ride.
Otherwise she might have plunged her dagger in his magnificent chest and cut
out his heart.
That
would end his celibacy… If Basalia had indeed told
the truth about Ondrican law.
Guanshit!
Kel no longer knew who or what
to believe.

Striding to her bathing chamber, she shed her clothes—once
more uncaring about who would have to clean up after her.
Drew
, her mind
whispered, shaming her. The girl had taught her so much about respecting
others. Kel would miss Drew almost as much as she would miss Aren.

She stopped to survey her naked body in the tri-paneled
mirror. As much as she loathed admitting it, her breasts did look fuller and
her stomach seemed to pooch no matter how hard she tried to suck it in. On
Amazonia, warriors gossiped that only well-sated women’s bellies pooched. Those
same women prayed for girl babies so they could remain with the lovers who gave
them so much pleasure, they no longer cared about flat stomachs. Better a sated
pooch than pregnancy. Resentful of Aren’s power over her, she admitted that,
like it or not, her life no longer belonged solely to her. She wanted Aren in
her life.

The thought left her shaking. Having a man—any man—as a
permanent part of her life was so contrary to her beliefs, she felt rootless.
Abandoned in a way she couldn’t define.
Outcast.
Yes, that’s how she
felt, as if she had betrayed every principle life on Amazonia had taught her.
As though she must live alone for that betrayal.

But hadn’t Basalia urged her to accept Aren? Did her mother
truly want a different kind of life for Kel and her people? She seemed to want
exactly that.

Drawing a shaky breath, Kel went to fill the tub.

Someone, most likely Aren, had placed a selection of caill-scented
products around the tub’s edge. Caught between resentment and gratitude that he
knew her so well, she eased into the tub, relaxing against its back. The
familiar scent soothed her somewhat—at least enough for her to think without
wanting to throw something breakable. And celebrate when it shattered.

“Leaving me to clean up the mess,” Kel said to herself,
perversely wishing Aren was here to share his thoughts. Shrugging, she added,
“I believe I know him well enough to predict what he would say.”

She sank to her shoulders in the warm water and asked her
first question aloud to an imaginary Aren. “Did you know your father plotted
with my mother to bring us together?”

His silence said he knew. She concentrated on him in her
mind, willing him to participate in this ersatz conversation.

“Why have you shackled us for the rest of our lives?
Announcing to all Ondrican that we are married when I have yet to agree! Will
you truly remain celibate if I refuse to acknowledge our…mating?”

Marriage
, he corrected.
And yes, I will remain
celibate. If you remain so stubborn.

She ignored
stubborn
. “Who will raise our children,
if we have any?”

We will.

“If I refuse to accept our marriage?”

We will.

Damn his self-serving confidence! “Now who’s being
stubborn?”

His silence named her.

Chewing on her lower lip, Kel pondered her next question.
“How old were you when your mother died?”

Twenty. Young enough to miss her. I miss her still.

She remembered him saying something similar when they
breakfasted with Storr. Now he sounded even more regretful. Swallowing her own
compassion, she said, “Meaning our child would miss you—”

Or you.

“Even if she or he never knows you?”

Or you. Yes.

“I never met my father,” she admitted softly, despite the
secret pain she felt in her heart. Had always felt when she watched warriors
with their children and their mates who elected to remain on Amazonia. Warrior
and captive seemed to share a connection other couples lacked. She had often
wondered if their children bound them with invisible chains.

Aren’s continuing silence made her grind her teeth. “Nothing
to say? Don’t know if our child would miss her absent parent? Don’t care?”

You know.
She heard his deep sigh as clearly as if he
stood at her side in the flesh.
Just as you know I care.

“About me?”

Aren’s soft chuckle washed over and through her. Squelching
her sudden lust, she sat up and sponged cool water over her suddenly steaming
skin.

“We have little in common,” she told her imagined Aren. “How
can we build a life together?”

We both like to read. You seem to enjoy our gardens.

“Your gardens. Although I’d like to grow some of Caton’s
herbs. Learn how to cook something more than spitted game.” Trying to cool her
too-warm body, she squeezed water from the sopping sponge over the back of her
neck. And recalled Aren’s fingers tracing her spine. Her breasts began to ache,
longing for his touch.

I can teach you about planting and cooking.

“What can I teach you? If we’re to be true partners…” She
sighed. “I haven’t any skills.”

You can teach me how to fish. How to cook on an open
fire.

She grunted. “As if Ondrican is so inhospitable you’d need
those skills.”

We could do it for fun.

“Fun,” she repeated, laughing.

And make love a lot. We both like that.

“Much too much.” Feeling as if he were tickling her feet,
she wiggled her toes as she tried again to cool her heating body.

“Interesting conversation, Kel, despite being one sided,”
Aren said from her bathing room door then advanced toward her.

Startled, Kel sank lower and silently cursed the bubbles for
disappearing when she most needed them. Yet she could not avert her eyes from Aren’s
face and body.

His hair looked tousled as if the wind—or some other
woman—had mussed it. His dark skin seemed flushed as well, leading her to
wonder if Amazonia’s inhospitable climate—or another woman—had left its mark on
his rugged features. On his sculpted chest, she silently amended, watching him
shuck his vest and pants and advance toward her.

“Scoot up,” he said, extending one elegant foot into the
tub.

“I’ll get out.” She tried to stand but found herself held
down by his grip on her shoulders. She inched forward, allowing him to settle
behind her. Her mind demanded she ignore him, finish her bath and leave the tub
to him. Her body melted into his. Knowing she craved his skin against her own,
his hands on her breasts, his cock pulsing between her buttocks, she
relinquished control and simply savored him.

He smelled like sun and sweat. She glanced over her
shoulder. His eyes were fierce, filled with the memory of a wild ride across
Amazonia’s bleak yet beautiful desert.

“I missed you, Flame.” His hot breath feathered over her
ear, his voice a feral growl. When he kissed her she tasted Honey Springs on
his lips and tongue.

“May all the gods curse Basalia,” she murmured against
Aren’s lips. “The Springs—”

“Arouse all the senses. Or so Basalia told me. Even
secondhand—from my lips to yours—you feel lust building in you.”

She found it impossible to deny what was happening to her
body. She wanted to shout but heard herself purr as Aren’s hands petted her
sensitive breasts as if soothing a restless cat. She wanted to pound his chest
until she bloodied him with her frustration. His chest hair felt like silken
threads as he rubbed against her back, the hairs on his legs sliding along her
thighs as he shifted her to face him. She felt her heartbeat in every nerve
ending, especially deep in her moistening pussy.

“It isn’t fair,” she whispered, rising to slide down his
rigid cock. “The Springs are sacred, its waters for the sole purpose—”

“Of bringing recalcitrant lovers together. On our wedding
day, Flame, I’ll take you there. We’ll drink the waters together. Bathe in
them. Fuck in them.”

She shivered and groaned. If the Springs could bring her to
this frenzy with only Aren’s kiss, what chance had she to resist his growing
power over her mind and body? Over her heart?

“Besides, everything’s fair in love and war.”

As if to prove it, he stood with her still impaled on his
cock. She yelped, trying to cling to his neck and wrap her legs around his to
steady herself. But—by all the gods!—she felt as though his cock hit the
farthest reaches of her womb, he was buried so deep inside her.

She wanted to crawl inside his skin, feel her own body under
his hands and absorb how she aroused him. Feel every emotion he felt as he
mated with her. Perhaps then she might understand why he was so determined she
acknowledge him as her husband.

Still joined, he lay down on her bed, her body astride his.
“Sit up, Flame.”

She did but wrapped her arms over her breasts. He captured
her wrists and gently pulled her hands to her sides.

“Don’t hide from me, Flame.”

His eyes seemed lighter, as if candles burned behind them to
welcome her into his soul. She felt as if she could see their future in those
fathomless depths. Laughter and tears. Joy and sorrow. All the myriad emotions
a lifetime together might bring.

He feathered his fingers over her face—a blind man
memorizing her features. She fought the urge to close her eyes and simply
surrender to whatever he would do to her. With her. And yet…she wanted to watch
his face as their bodies rose and fell. See his eyes darken and his jaw clench
while he fought his pleasure to bring her to her own.

“You have the most beautiful neck, Flame. So slender, so
soft.” He cupped her nape, drew her down for a kiss then nipped the pounding
pulse in the neck he so admired.

In all the times they’d mated, she’d never noticed how
sensitive her neck was. How much she enjoyed feeling her hair tease her skin
there. The warmth his breath brought to her entire body as he kissed and licked
and suckled.

“I love your breasts,” he whispered, his breath hot and
moist on her tender nipple.

She shifted, thrusting one breast into his mouth while
pressing his hand to her other.

He cupped her mons as he suckled. She moaned, feeling a jolt
of need spark between her nipple and her clit. He found the rigid nubbin and
smiled up at her as if she’d told him all the secrets in her heart.

“Would you ride, Flame?”

Suddenly his gentleness was not enough. She craved his chest
rubbing against her sensitive nipples as their bodies, slick with sweat and
need, slid over each other. She wanted his cock pounding into her as they raced
to completion.

His hands on her hips guided her up and down at a slow walk.
She growled in frustration.

“I’ll give you what you want, Flame. But not now. Now I want
you to remember the dream that was about our future. How Horse’s slow pace
built the fires in my shaft and in your sweet cunt.”

By all the gods, she remembered. Her pussy clenched around
his cock as if to draw him deeper. But—oh!—how the slick glide of him in and
out heated her core. Her climax was as gentle as the pace he set. Sweet and
slow, both filling yet leaving her ready for more. Wanting more. Craving more.

“P-please, Aren.” She ground her pelvis against his and
bounced a little. “That feels so good.”

“Yes.”

He sounded so smug, she wanted to make him suffer all the
pleasure and lust she felt in her pussy. Bracing her hands on his chest, she
squirmed up and down his cock, circling her hips until both Aren and she
groaned and he met her thrust for thrust. Little waves pulsed through them,
stronger than her first climax but still not enough. She thought he’d spilled
some cream, imagined she could feel it mixing with her own juices, but she
wanted more.

As if he shared her need, he thrust harder. Just when she thought
her heart would burst before he relented, he rolled her to her back and pounded
into her, taking her higher and higher. His eyes were black. His breath wheezed
from between his clenched lips.

“Kiss me, Flame.”

She did. Their tongues dueled as he raised her legs to his
shoulders and drove into her again and again. She shattered. He erupted, their
shared climax leaving them too weak to move.

“Oh…my,” she managed at last.

“Yes.” Keeping her in his arms, he rolled to his back.

For several long moments she listened to his heartbeat as it
slowed. Felt her own heartbeat steady until it seemed they matched—point and
counterpoint.

“Which was that, Aren?”

“Huh?”

“Love or war?”

Laughing, he kissed her. “Both.”

When they awoke the prophecy cloth covered them.

Chapter Twelve

Later that night, Kel woke Aren. Her fingers over his lips,
she warned him to silence. Nodding, he took her hand and let her lead him
through her open window. Both naked, they hugged the shadowed buildings lest
the full moon reveal them to the warriors patrolling the perimeter. In the near
distance he glimpsed a horse’s silhouette—a darker shadow against the moonlit
sky.

Knowing how far sound carried in near silence, he needed no
warning to remain silent but obeyed Kel’s signal to mount. Settling her in
front of him, he cupped her breasts, massaging them as she heeled their mount
to a walk. When they crested a small hill and realized no warrior could see
them, Kel stopped the horse and leaned over its neck. The sight of her round
ass brought his semi-erect shaft to full attention. He’d not ask what she
wanted lest she refuse him. Instead, he drove his shaft deep into her wet and
willing cunt. Without a word he cupped her breasts and pulled her as upright as
he could without dislodging his shaft from her slippery cunt.

“By all the gods, Aren, all I think about is fucking you.”

Coming from her, the word made his shaft even harder. Her
delicious cunt massaged him and she wiggled her ass, all but begging him to
pump harder. He heeled the horse to a trot, his groans mingling with her sighs.
Urgency.
That’s what he felt in her tonight. As if she had to fuck now
or…what? Fuck someone else? Anyone else?

“By all the gods, Kel,” he repeated, “you never cease to
surprise me.” His voice vibrated as the horse’s stride quickened and Kel’s cunt
clenched his shaft in its slick, velvet grasp. He thought of asking where they
were going but his brain—what little remained—now resided in his shaft and in
Kel’s juicy sheath. Sliding one hand down her body, he found her clit, already
rigid and wet from her own lust.

“Yesss. Touch me there, Aren. I need…ahhhh.”

Her climax almost made him join her. Somehow he fought it
back, sensing she could come as many times as he could refrain from coming. He
had only to let the horse’s pace set the friction of his shaft to arouse her
again.
Yes, like that
, he thought, feeling her cunt milk him as she
reached another climax more powerful than the first. She sobbed his name.

“I…want you to come with me.”

“I will. When I am certain you are satisfied completely.”
For
a time, at least.
Caressing her clit, he brought her to the edge. Urging
the horse to gallop, he took Kel over the precipice to completion. He soon
followed but his shaft retained its hardness. Grinning, he anticipated another
long, glorious meeting of their juices. The horse stopped so suddenly, he and
Kel slid off its back and his shaft popped free.

“Are you hurt?” Helping her to stand, he saw she wasn’t but
her eyes swirled with so many colors, he knew lust held her in its unrelenting
grip.

Looking around, he realized they’d ridden to Honey Springs. Although
she’d been eager to fuck many times, he suspected Kel had made the trip earlier
that night. Alone. Knowing what the springs had done to him with only a few
sips, he prayed he would have stamina enough to please her through the long,
lust-filled night.

“Do you intend to stand there like a stick?” Impatience
laced her voice but her eyes told him she suffered in her need.

“Tell me what you want, Flame,” some devil made him say.

Her face heated but she ground out, “You. I want your stick
in me.”

“In plain language, Flame.” He stroked her distended
nipples, savoring her helpless mewls.

“I want your cock in my pussy.”

“Plainer.”

“Fuck. Me.” She grabbed his neck and used her leg to topple
him to the blanket someone had laid on the dirt. Straddling him, she mounted
his shaft and rode him to climax. As he watched, she found her clit and stroked
it while she pinched one nipple, crying out, joyous pain in her voice as she
climaxed again.

He could take no more. Shoving her to her back, he fucked
her hard and fast until their combined juices flooded their thighs. At last he
looked down and saw she’d gained a bit of relief from her urgent need to fuck.

“How much did you drink, Kel?”

A half smile curving her lips, she said, “A cup. Mmm…maybe
two. L-legend says imagining the one you want will…make the fucking sweeter
when you are…finally together.” She rushed the last phrase as if thinking was
nearly impossible.

“Was it? Was the fucking sweeter?”

Opening her eyes she stroked his sweat-drenched forehead.
“You are the vainest man I know, Aren. Could I not have dreamed of someone
else?”

“Had you dreamed of anyone else, Flame, I would not be here
with you now. You’d have sought that someone else and brought him here.”

“But you’re the only man I know who wants to fuck me. Can
you do so again? Now?”

“Not yet,” he admitted, withdrawing reluctantly. Glancing
around, he spotted a leather drinking bag nearby. “Is that water from the
springs?”

“No.”

“Then why did you drink from the springs, Kel?” This whole
delightful scene proclaimed she’d planned it.

“Silly man. To see if the legends are true.”

“
You
are the one who’s silly. Only couples should
drink from Honey Springs.”

“I know that. Now.” Giggling, she stroked her breasts then
glided one hand to her mons. “Are you certain you cannot fuck again?”

“If you touch yourself, Flame, I’ll not fuck you at all.”
Although he would enjoy watch her masturbate, he selfishly wanted her to come
on his tongue, his fingers, his shaft. Standing, he retrieved the water bag and
poured some of it over her nether lips and curls.

“Not even with your fingers? With your oh so talented
tongue? I love it when you finger-fuck me while you lick and—and suck my clit.”

If he expected to last the night he knew he should drink
from the springs. But he could wait. The restless circles Kel’s hips made
alerted him to her rising need.

“Put your heels on my shoulders, Flame. That will make the
face- and finger-fucking even sweeter.”

She obeyed without a murmur of protest. With her feet on his
shoulders, she spread her knees, affording him the glorious sight of her
pink-flushed lips and dew-soaked curls. Those lips quivered, then opened as if
inviting him to plunder. Her rigid clit begged him to suck it.

“Hurry, Aren. Please.”

“One day soon you’ll beg me again, Flame. Without drinking
from any bespelled spring, you’ll say the crudest words because you know how
hot they make you—and me.”

“Aren…please.”

Despite her urgency to fuck, he wanted to give her the
greatest pleasure he could. Skimming his fingertips down her neck and over her
collarbone made her skin quiver and her eyes darken. Soft moans escaped her
lips as she writhed to bring his shaft closer to her cunt. He soothed her with
his voice, murmuring sweet, nonsensical sounds that calmed her for seconds at a
time. But everywhere he touched or licked or kissed her flesh heated and
vibrated with need.

“Aren, please,” she cried, her voice choked by lust.

Like a man dying of thirst, he fell upon her and drank her
nectar. She climaxed quickly, her entire body shaking. Even knowing her passion
came from the Springs, he relished her uninhibited lust. One day he alone would
take her to these heights. She climaxed again, her cunt clutching at his
tongue. Finding his shaft ready and eager for this sport, he lunged into her
and brought her yet another quaking release.

Smiling up at him, she said, “These Springs might be worth
trading for, eh?”

“I think them too dangerous, Flame. Besides, certain things
a man wants to accomplish for himself.”

“Like mating?

Realizing his prim and proper princess was returning, Aren
took them both to shattering release. Sated, he wondered if he would miss the
wanton who had brought him here.

* * * * *

Dawn

“Do you think we should allow their scheming to continue?”
Aren asked Kel when she had fully recovered from the Springs.

“Since their latest scheme involved tricking you, I think
you should decide.”

“Then you have forgiven Basalia?”

“If the prophecy cloth had stayed on Ondrican I might never
have forgiven her. Since it came to us I can no longer deny its powers. When
did you discover we had landed on my real homeworld?”

He shrugged as he kissed her neck, making her tremble. “I
had suspicions, but didn’t know for sure until after I went out riding.”

“Hence the journey around my world. She tricked us—most of
all you—which means you should decide her punishment. If this guan— No more
swearing, I promise, lest I do it in public.”

“And why is that suddenly so important to you?” he said,
tiptoeing his fingertips up her calf to her thigh.

“Well…” She brushed his hand away then shifted so they lay
face-to-face. “It seems to me that we should make a good impression on the
people. My swearing in public might make them think you should have looked
farther afield for a…” She shrugged.

“A wife,” he provided then sighed. “Talk about seeming
shortsighted, I should have realized we were actually on Amazonia sooner. You’d
told me enough about your lack of technology I should have known.”

“Storr could have done it all on his own.”

“Not for the scheme to work. Thanks to Storr having cameras
installed on our spacecraft, all of Ondrican saw our landing here. I just wish
I had spotted them before we left Ondrican—especially since that likely allowed
my father to proclaim he had negotiated a truce between our people. My lack of
chains verified his statement that, with our marriage, Amazonia is no longer
forbidden to his people.”

“If you value your head, don’t tell Basalia that bit of
news,” Kel advised.

“I worry more about my
personal wealth
.”

Laughing, Kel stood to stretch. “I suppose we could thwart
them by insisting on two ceremonies—one here, another on Ondrican.”

Following her up, Aren took her hand. “Is that what you
want, Kel?”

“It would serve them right if we did. They’d have no
reason—”

“No excuse.”

“To meet face-to-face.”

“In truth I want to see them together,” he admitted.

“In truth,” she repeated, “so do I.”

“That would be a fitting beginning. Our marrying on a planet
between our two worlds.”

“Far enough away from both to build the kind of home we want
for our children and our people,” Kel added, once again smoothing her hand over
her belly.

Drawing her into his arms, Aren rocked her gently from side
to side. “What shall we call it? Our new home, I mean.”

“Ondrimonia?” she suggested.

“Amazican?” he countered. Sighing, he tilted her chin to
gaze into her eyes. They held a mixture of blues and greens and browns that
moved slowly through them. He’d more than enjoyed their fucking the long night
through but he loved even more Kel’s quiet acceptance of their future together.
Her eyes proclaimed it even though she’d yet to say
I love you
. “If we
marry elsewhere, I will have to break my promise to you, Kel.”

“What promise, Aren?”

“To love you here on our wedding day.”

Looking down, she said, “You threatened to mate me here.”

“You know what I meant.”

“How would I know? You said nothing about love, Aren.”

“The prophecy cloth—”

“A woman needs the words.”

“So does a man.”

Tilting her chin to look into her eyes, he willed her to say
the words. She smiled a secret sort of smile that dared him to speak first.

I can outwait you, love
, he thought as he tipped her
chin and kissed her, “forever” on his lips.

She pulled away and he watched her dress. “Did you think to
bring me clothes?”

Mischief swirling in her eyes, she grinned. “Suddenly
feeling shy, Aren? I assure you Mother’s warriors have seen a naked man before
today.”

“You said you wanted your women to only imagine me, Kel. But
if you wish, I’m willing to show off my
personal wealth
.”

Laughing, she tossed the blanket to him.

* * * * *

A Week Later

Two days before the wedding, the parties arrived on the
bride and groom’s new world. Storr’s architects and builders had managed to
construct several facilities to house rulers and councils and guests. His
technicians had set up equipment to transmit the ceremony to both homeworlds.
The to-be-wedded couple had yet to settle on a name for their new home but
their parents had no qualms about voicing their suggestions at the top of their
lungs.

Taking Kel’s arm, Aren led her away from the milling crowd
of workers and arriving guests. “They fight,” he explained to calm Kel’s
nerves, “because they want to fuck.”

“Then find them a room!” Kel snapped.

Aren kissed her anger-flushed cheek then said, “I believe
your Aunt Gracia has put them in adjoining rooms. Without a lock on the
connecting door.”

“Perhaps we should have the door removed altogether.”

Aren laughed. “I think they’ll manage.”

“I’d like to see who makes the first move.” As if the idea
horrified her, Kel stopped in her tracks. “Oh Aren, promise me there are no
vidscreens in our rooms. Any of them. I-I don’t really want to watch them mate.”

“I promise. I inspected every room myself.”

“Tak,” she said, exhaling a sigh of relief. “I cannot
believe how quickly this all came together.”

“It is not as if our parents started from bare dirt. Our
people—Amazonian women and Ondrican men—have inhabited this planet for many
years. That’s why we saw so many houses and farms before we landed.”

“Is this where…?”

“Your outcast warriors, their mates and children came when
they left Amazonia? Yes.”

“I wish I’d known.”