Dragon Lords Books 1 - 4 Box Set: Anniversary Edition (15 page)

She again obeyed, looking down as she worked. It was a mistake. The proof of his male prowess was reaching for her. Nervous, she quickly finished the rest of her body and then rinsed, turning her back on him. A low groan sounded. When she glanced back, he was gazing at her ass. She felt trails of soap glide over the cheeks, down the center crevice. His hand flexed against the curves in the rock wall, as if urging him to grab hold of her.

Without any real warning that he was going to move, he sprang into action and pressed her wet body into his tightly wrought form. She gasped at the feel of him. He gripped her tight. Residual soap caused them to slide intimately against each other.

Ualan lifted her in his arms and carried her to the steaming spring before setting her inside the bubbling water. The heated water curled around her toes and simmered up her legs. Ualan reached for a bottle of soap and stepped in after her. Squirting the white, creamy liquid on his hands, he brought the soap to a lather.

“You’re still dirty,” he insisted, bringing the lather to her flesh. “If you aren’t going to do a proper job, I will just have to do it myself.”

The hot spring steamed and churned around them. Morrigan hungrily followed his lead, squirting soap onto her palm to wash him again. The lather glided over their flesh, aiding their searching caresses. Ualan worked his fingers through her hair. Her hands slithered boldly over rock-hard muscles as she explored. Suds trailed down her face and she had to pull away from him to rinse. When she finished, she squirted more soap on her hands to continue exploring.

Her fingers rediscovered valleys and peaks. She pulled him closer as she investigated the length of his back, liking the way the soap made her nipples swish against him.

The agony of her desires had been imprisoned in her flesh, waiting for release from the moment she saw him. She kissed his neck and let loose a light, feminine moan.

He drew her back and lifted his soap-covered hand to her lips, running a finger across the swollen offering. Then, leaning over he kissed her deeply, showing her the soap was safe. The taste sweetened their kiss. She moaned against him.

Morrigan became more insistent. Sliding her hands down his body, over his hips, she wanted him to be as urgent as she. She wanted him writhing in desperation. She wanted it to end.

At his urging, her mouth tasted him, moving over his nipples, nipples that were sweetened by the soap. By the gentle force of his fingers, her kiss continued its way down his stomach. Morrigan dropped to her knees in the large bath. Suds drifted from her skin into the water. Her hands glided over his ass, grasping and squeezing the firm cheeks in slithering delight.

Stopping, she glanced up at him. His eyes were closed. She stared at the gorgeous length of him.

With a growl, he shot her an impassioned plea and lowered himself to sit on the edge. Taking her arm, he forced her kneeling body before him and placed her hand so that she could discover the heat of his desire. She wrapped her soapy fingers around his cock. The soap was like a drug in her mouth, exploding on her taste buds, urging her to again kiss his stomach.

Ualan spread his legs, allowing her closer access. With a firm hand on her shoulder, he urged her mouth downward to his erection. He was overconfident, unashamed by what he wanted as he drew the tip of his member to rub her lips. One hand stayed on her shoulder, the other found itself winding in her hair. Her breath deepened. Her locks tumbled wetly around her shoulders. He locked his fingers on her head, and he pulled her lush mouth onto him.

Morrigan gasped, unsure what to do. But as the sugary temptation of the soap entered her mouth, she sucked the sweet taste from him. Ualan groaned loudly in approval. Firmly, he used her hair to control her, forcing her mouth to journey over his erect member. Morrigan smiled against him, reveling in the size and taste, addicted to the control she gained over him. Her fingers dug into his thighs. She sucked harder, learning from Ualan how to please him.

Ualan’s passion was loud as he groaned without inhibition. Morrigan was surrounded in sensations—the warm, gentle caress of water, the hardness in her mouth, the firm insistence of the hand in her hair. She grabbed his hips to command his thrusts. No other thrill compared to how she felt in these intimate moments. He called out her desires, taught her how to fulfill them. Nothing mattered. She couldn’t think, couldn’t act beyond the will of his body and she loved it. With him there was no shame, no stopping.

Suddenly, he tensed, jerking her off before he exploded. With a groan of release, he spilled himself into the bath. A contented moan escaped his stiffly parted lips and he lowered himself into the water to wash off. Morrigan reached for him. Without pausing, he grasped her firmly by the hips and turned her around so she was on her hands and knees before him in the water.

Leaning over her shoulder, he gently ran his fingers down her spine. She made a weak noise, waiting for the torment to end. Her body was fevered, ready. To her horror, he said, “Thank you, slave, for the gift. You can stay in my home.”

When Morrigan looked back over her shoulder, it was to see his arrogant, naked ass striding from the bathroom. She choked on a disappointed sob.

He had left her wanting.

Again.

U
alan hid
from his wife’s view as he took several deep breaths. The sweetness of his release became dampened by the bitterness of her unfulfilled desire. Pulling away from her when she so clearly wanted pleasure had nearly broke his resolve. It wasn’t natural to deny a mate.

Yet, the slave-master laws were old and clear. He could not bring her pleasure. As a wife, she was his partner, on equal footing. As a slave, she was beneath a prince. She could willingly give him pleasure, but he couldn’t return the favor.

He did what he had to.

It was the path she chose.

Then why did he feel like he’d just ripped his own heart out of his chest?

T
he next few
days did not pass in pleasantness. Morrigan refused to speak to Ualan, shying to the other side of his home whenever he was near. He didn’t dare ask what she did all day by herself and her silently festering anger didn’t allow for conversation. He knew she spent every moment alone, for slaves were not allowed company, aside from their masters and other slaves. There were no other slaves in the Draig kingdom.

After discovering his wife’s cleaning was definitely worse than her dirtying, he had sent a group of servants to go over his home and fix the mess. They were instructed to only speak in the old tongue so Morrigan had sat quiet the entire time, not understanding them. They reported back to him that she had not tried to break her silence. The news was supposed to make him happy. It didn’t.

The truth was he left his home during the day to avoid her accusing glances. He made sure to send her food through a silent Mirox. Unlike the others, the man had told him the lady tried to talk to him on several occasions. Ualan could tell the servant hated not being able to respond in kind.

A few times he thought to sense tears in her gaze, but she turned too quickly for him to really see if they were there. Her pain struck a chord of discontent within his chest. The crystal had tried to join their feelings so that their marriage may be blessed with understanding. He had accepted it by accepting the marriage. She had not.

His wife would never understand how hard it had been for him to leave her in that needy condition. Until she accepted him freely, she would never experience his feelings as he did hers.

He understood her anger was just a defense, hiding the deeper rejection she felt in his dismissal. He cursed himself for his weakness in accepting her slave-gift. He should have known better. Had he been thinking clearly, he would have known better. But when she kissed him so willingly with lips that were made for giving him pleasure, she had weakened him and had taken a good part of his sense from him. Now, it was all he could do not to go to her again. However much she was hurting, he was hurting tenfold, for guilt without a way to atone was a heavy burden for a warrior to bear.

“You missed practice again, brother,” Olek said, looking down at where Ualan sat against a giant tree trunk. The man looked much like Ualan, with the same build and same brown hair, though he chose to wear his sides in braids. Olek’s soft green eyes were strained and tired, but he managed a weary smile.

Ualan raised a hand in greeting, not bothering to stand or explain as he turned his attention back to the place where Morrigan had yelled at him after their wedding ceremony was concluded. The soft, murmuring rhythm of the stream trickled nearby. The green skies were light and blew stirrings of clouds over the distance. He saw them through the thick branches. The trilling call of the blue sofliar nesting overhead filtered down to them.

Taking a seat beside his brother, Olek lifted a weed from the patch of grass and thoughtfully plucked it into his mouth. “I see we are both cursed. Or else you would not be avoiding your duty or me mine.”

Ualan didn’t even try to deny it. “My wife has proclaimed herself a slave. Since she is the one to indenture herself, I cannot release her.”

“I cannot help you there. The law states clearly that only she can seek the royal pardon.”

“She won’t,” Ualan said to the unasked question in his brother’s steady gaze. “And I have no idea how to persuade her.”

“Does she know who you are? Does she know it is you who can help clear her?”

“Always trying to act the part of the ambassador,” Ualan said.

“I am the ambassador,” Olek reminded him wryly.

“I have no wish for her to know who I am yet, not before she admits she is my wife. I would not have her considering my royal birth. That would defeat the purpose of the masks. Gardener or king, it is the same to the crystal bearers. And if I cannot find a way to tell her she is a princess, I’m not sure how I’ll tell her I’m a dragon-shifter.”

“I think our king is considering never doing business with Galaxy Brides again.” Olek chuckled, though Ualan could tell he was depressed. “For they have sent all his sons and nephews
mor-forwyns
.”

“That they have.”

“Is it true she announced she was leaving you right after breaking your crystal?”

“Woe that Morrigan should find a spaceport,” Ualan grumbled by way of an answer.

“Woe if she found a spaceport of our enemy,” his brother added. When Ualan glanced over in surprise, he continued, “There have been rumors that our brides have not been seen within the castle.”

“And who would dare to spread such a rumor?”

“Supporters of the Var would be my guess. Our father has decreed a feast in honor of his new daughters to coronate them. We have a week to convince them.”

“A week? Has he lost his mind? I do not relish the idea of our brides meeting. I should not like to see them banded together.” Ualan frowned. “I can’t hide the fact she is a slave. I can’t bring her out.”

“Ah, so you didn’t hear? Our mother has started a rumor amongst her maids that Princess Morrigan does it out of embarrassment for how she acted after binding you with the crystal. Soon it will be common news. She will be respected for purging her honor.”

Ualan had to concede to his mother’s silent tactfulness. Her diplomatic ways were a great complement to his bold warrior father.

“The king fears that the Var have spies within our walls,” Olek continued. “That is why he has ordered us to get our affairs in order. He wants to show the people our family is whole and the rumors against us are merely rumors.”

“And you, Ambassador?” Ualan asked. A week? How could his mother allow the king to make such a decree? He doubted he could get Morrigan to talk to him in a week, let alone accept her role as a princess and as a wife. Thinking of it, he grew dejected.

“I was to head to the shadowed marshes before the wedding began but I couldn’t get away from festival duties. The cat-shifters have become uncommonly bold,” Olek admitted. “I can sense it in them. They plan something.”

“Hmm.”

“I know something that will cheer you, brother.” Olek chuckled. “Yusef’s bride turned his own blade against his manhood. He was honor bound to put her in chastisement.”

Both brothers shared a hearty laugh. Their merriment echoed around them in the trees.

“Did she…?” Ualan snorted.

“No, just a nick.”

“I hear Zoran’s princess screams like a tree witch every time he’s tried to touch her,” Ualan admitted. “I’m glad he lives in the far side of the palace.”

“Mother is quite upset by it all.” Olek took the grass from his mouth and tossed it on the ground. He watched it float away. “It seems Zoran felt compelled to disfigure his wife and cut off all her hair. The castle is humming with the rumor and no one has seen her about the palace.”

“That makes no sense. Zoran would not shame his wife.”

“Our father says he saw it.” Olek shrugged. “He’s upset because of the celebration. My wife has these female contraptions, I will see if one won’t grow the poor woman’s hair back for her.”

“Yeah, if what you say is true, we cannot let more shame come to the family. We’ll be lucky to get through the night without one of our brides trying to kill us.”

Olek chuckled, but the sound held no humor.

“And you, brother?” Ualan asked. “What ails your bride that she won’t have you?”

Olek frowned, moving to stand. He held his hand down and pulled Ualan up to join him. “I truly do not know, but I think I am the most cursed of us all. My little solarflower wants nothing to do with me. At least your women fight you. Mine will barely even speak to me, let alone yell. How can I win a battle that will not be fought?”

U
alan decided
he had enough silence to last him a lifetime—even if he hadn’t been ordered by his father to make things right before the feast. A warrior did not avoid battle and the time for strategic planning was over. His wife would come around and accept her role, he would see to that.

Unfortunately, standing with his hands on his hips, Ualan could see his slave did not feel the same way. She looked as if she would be perfectly content to keep lounging on his couch, staring at the round fire as if he didn’t exist. Morrigan still dressed as a servant, her hair tied into a knotted bun at the nape of her neck. He grimaced, hating the style, for it kept the locks from readily falling into his fingers.

He knew she kept the uniform as a silent protest against him, since he had not decreed that she should continue to wear it and her own clothes were in the closet, untouched in her bag. The uniform was clean and pressed, but he wished for a moment she would let him buy her the fine dresses of a lady. In the village, the seamstress had many bolts of cloth that would fit her coloring better. With a wicked smile, he acknowledged that it would also fit his very masculine desires to see her better attired—or not attired at all.

Ualan knew the moment she detected his presence by the way her breathing deepened then caught and held. There was also the telltale quickening of the pulse in her slender neck. If he focused his dragon hearing, he would be able to detect the rhythm drumming in his ear. He reluctantly admired her determination. She was a stubborn woman. From what he had seen in the past, most wives would have complained at the neglect, being forced to endure days of isolation and silence.

“Enough,” he grumbled in displeasure. “I will have no more of your silence, slave.”

“Would you rather I yell at you, caveman?” Her eyes flashed with heat and Ualan thought maybe silence was more golden than speaking. “Or just slit your throat while you sleep?”

Ualan, who had been tempted to form a smile, quickly scowled. Darting forward with supernatural speed to where she sat on the couch, he took her throat into his palms and squeezed. Morrigan gasped in surprise at the unexpected attack, but held perfectly still, refusing to show fear. Ualan did not take the life from her throat, but he knew he had the power in his single hand to do so.

“You dare to threaten your husband?” The dangerous gold of the dragon would be in his gaze, no matter how he tried to hide it. Morrigan’s eyes narrowed as she detected it.

Gritting her teeth, she ground out, “How many times do I have to tell you, cav—
ugh!
”

Ualan tightened his grip, cutting of her words and part of her air supply. Her knot unraveled at the gesture, as if it hadn’t been that secure to begin with. Silken strands of her dark hair spilled over his hands as she struggled. She clawed her fingernails into his arm, trying to draw blood but merely scratching the surface. He shook her once more. When she stiffened, flinching in fear, he loosened his hold. “Call me that again, wife, and I will have your head. I have dealt with your insolence, but no more. Do you understand? I will have obedience and order in my home.”

Morrigan’s lips trembled. Foolishly, she slapped his face, yelling, “I am not your wif—”

The hand tightened. He didn’t even wince as the sting of her hand imprinted on his face. “Do you understand?”

When he didn’t let go, Morrigan quickly nodded, though her eyes shot daggers. The hand softened, releasing her.

Morrigan pulled back, gasping and feeling her throat for injury. It was fine. He would never cause her real physical harm.

Ualan narrowed his eyes and considered what he should do.

Taking several more breaths, she muttered, “I am not your wife, ca—” She stopped herself in time. “I’m your slave. You made that clear.”

Her words lacked the fire of conviction as her widened eyes stared at him.

Unknowingly, she pulled him to her. Not with hands, but silently beckoning all the same. Ualan’s gaze was summoned to her throat by the tips of her angered nerves. He saw the pink mark of his hand on her and was instantly sorry for it. Closing his eyes, he leaned to lightly kiss where his hand had been so rough, his lips naturally seeking to soothe her ache. She stiffened, as if waiting for another attack.

“I’m sorry if I hurt you,” he murmured to the corner of her parted lips. “But you could be killed for threatening the life of…your master.” He had been about say “a prince”, but thought better of it. “I should have handled myself better. For that you have my apologies.”

Morrigan held very still. Her pulse beat violently but her voice was calm. “I didn’t mean to slap you. I was scared. I’m not a murderer. I would never kill anyone. I know I have a temper, but I am not completely to blame. You have put me in an unfair position.”

“I am the one person you should never fear,” he whispered, softly brushing his lips along hers. It was a delicate truce and he was almost afraid to move lest he damage it. He didn’t point out that she was the one who had put herself in this position. She was too agreeable now for him to risk enraging her.

“You’re the one person I do fear,” she said, her lips turning to speak against his. Her voice was whispery, as if in a trance. She sucked his breath into her mouth, and he felt the connection deepen. The truth rolled out of her unhampered. “You keep me prisoner.”

Ualan sighed. Her words hurt because he knew them to be true. She did fear him. How could he blame her? Every time she yelled, he yelled back, or much worse, he teased her into horrific, unrealizable passion and left her wanting.

Ualan understood what she was doing. She unconsciously tried to feel inside him as he felt inside her, to build the connection that would join their emotions together as only a wife and husband could. It would allow her to read his feelings, and with enough practice, she could read parts of his mind. He wasn’t ready for her to connect, not like this, not with the rift between them. Ualan could not allow her to feel his vulnerability toward her. If she did, he would be lost. She would know how to manipulate and control him. He had no doubt that this woman of his would do so mercilessly. If she got her way and figured out how to leave him, he would be damned to walk the rest of his long years alone.

“You keep yourself prisoner,” he said. “Say you are my wife and you will get your freedom. My home will be your home.” He couldn’t keep his kiss from forming against her mouth. “My world, your world.” Another kiss. “My bed….” This time he kissed her deeply, searing her, probing her, leaving him unable to finish the words.