Rituals of Passion (11 page)

All things considered, he’d have been completely within his rights to call  on thetwins, or Calla of the beautiful lips made for sucking, to relieve  him once the Giving Ceremony ended. In fact, he wasn’t certain why he hadn’t. Yes, he’d intended to save this frustrating mega-erection for deflowering  his bride, but after  her reaction to him,why bother?

In fact, given that the  wedding would not happen until tomorrow night, why not summon Calla to his room right now and let  her suck him into oblivion? He sat up in

54

Rituals of Passion

bed and swung his feet over the side to  the floor, intending to ring for a maid to

summon the eager blonde nymph.

But he stopped.

For some reason, thoughts of Maven returned. An image of her lovely face—along with the idea that she would be even lovelier if he ever saw her smile. Another image followed—of her pussy, bare and smooth, just for him.

Letting out a sigh, he pushed to his feet  and exited his chamber,  treading down the corridor toward the room where he’d instructed  the girl be placed for now. Despite his good sense, he realized he wanted to give her another chance. He didn’t offer second chances to many, in any facet  of life, but this, he remembered, was his marriage, something he wished to have succeed. It only made sense to  try again to form a relationship with Enrick’s daughter.

He didn’t bother knocking when  he reached her door, simply pushed it open and strode inside. She flinched at his entry, yanking a white cloth from her cleavage as herface turned a lovely  shade of pink. Clearly, he’d caught her freshening up  after thejourney, and though it conflicted with his intent, he couldn’t be sorry to have caught herunawares and leave her a bit off balance.

“I need to talk with you,” he said.

That quickly, her eyes took on the same  steely quality he’d seen during their last and only other conversation. “Talk then.”

He took a deep breath, reminding himself this discussion was to be about peace. He  sat down on her large trunk, now  situated at  the foot of the bed upon which she rested.  “Maven, I’ll speak plainly. Despite the stories you may have heard, I’m not an  unreasonable man. I wish to have an agreeable marriage and I would ask that you give  that idea a chance.”

A hint of uncertainty, maybe even consideration, passed briefly through her eyes, but then her back went rigid, her voice cold. “You’re marrying me only as a stepping stone to the  throne of Caralon.”

“True enough. But nothing says I can’t  enjoy my stepping stone and she me.”

“I don’t take pleasure in  being used.”

That stood to reason, yet… “You’re a ruler’s daughter—you have no choice  in the

matter.”

“Having no choice makes me no less offended, and I detest you for expecting me to  coo and fawn over you like all of those within your employ.”

For some reason, her words incensed him—and challenged him.  Or was it just her  manner, the very idea that she continued  to be so unyielding, even when he’d  attempted to be kind  and open with her?  Combined with the aching cock barely  contained in  his pants, her attitude caused his  ire to chisel itself into a sharp point. He narrowed his eyes, aware his blood was boiling with anger…and lust. “You will,” he  said calmly, firmly. “In fact, you will do
 
more
 
than coo and fawn.”

55

Lacey Alexander

“I find you repulsive.”

“You will beg,” he informed her with deep, unerring confidence. “You will beg for

my touches. You will beg for my cock.”

“Never!” she spat.

“Never is a long time, bride.”

“
Never
 
is when I will want
 
you
.”

“We’ll see,” he said, then rose and exited  the room, slamming the door shut behind

him.

Impudent little brat. He had a good mind  to turn her over his knee and spank her, the same as if she were a child, for that was how she acted. To his surprise,  his shaft seemed to stiffen further at the thought of  her body stretched face down over his lap, her bare ass accepting the firm slaps of his hand.

Well, he wouldn’t spank her, at least not  yet—but she’d just steeled his resolve once more. She
 
would
 
beg him. He would make absolutely, unequivocally certain that by the time he came to her on their wedding night, she would beg. The Maran tiles wouldassist in that, as in all royal marriages, but for Maven, he would provide even
 
more
stimulation.

Let’s see you resist me after the  next  two days, my virgin bride,
 
he thought triumphantlyas  he  glanced  over  his  shoulder  toward  the  room  he’d  just  left.  Then  he  smiled.  Hewould see her beg for him on her knees, and maybe, just maybe, if she begged and pleaded hard enough, he’d give her the cock she craved.

* * * * *

An hour later, Maven sat on the same bed, in the same spot where Dane had promised her she would beg for  him.
 
Never!
 
she declared to herself once again, but in the same instance, her stomach churned with  fleeting memories—of his devouring eyes, his large, commanding frame, his utterly immense cock.

Oh Ares, what was she going to do? On one hand, he’d seemed  almost reasonable—until he’d started the business about her craving him. Yet on the other, no

matter how reasonable he might be, he still intended  her to accept being his
 
possession
.  And a possession that was a means to an end, at that. How could any woman have a  happy marriage under such circumstances?  Perhaps other royal girls were more  accepting, but having been raised in a home where women were treated with respect  and dignity, she simply couldn’t  make peace with the notion.

Just then, she heard someone giggling, a  woman. She glanced toward the narrow window in her first floor room, as  the sound had come from outside.

When a masculine chuckle joined the feminine one, Maven grew curious enough to

push to her feet and pad to  the  thin opening  in the stone wall, peeking out.  At first she  saw nothing but flowers, shrubs, a trellis climbing with vibrant yellow roses—clearly it  was a garden. But when the giggling continued and the male voice spoke, saying,

56

Rituals of Passion

“What a naughty girl you are,” her gaze was drawn to the left, where an attractive man  and woman stood kissing, touching. The woman’s small hand cupped and massaged  his bulging crotch.

She’d seen them both as part of the caravan and had been given the impression the man was one of high rank among  Dane’s people. Now her heart skittered and her pussy  began to tickle as she watched them.

“Does my hand feel good, Kells?” the girl asked.

The man groaned in reply and Maven felt  that groan between her thighs. “Get it  out,” he instructed.

The girl smiled up at him, then focused her attention on  unlacing his pants. Within seconds, a cock nearly as large as Dane’s burst free from the leather.

“Oooh,” the girl said, “I love it. I want  to kiss it.” She immediately dropped to her  knees and proceeded to kiss a path from the base of his long shaft to the tip.

“Suck me,” he said, all playfulness gone from his voice.

His partner  responded without hesitation, lowering her mouth onto the rod.

Maven’s cunt contracted, watching, wondering—could she really do that to  Dane? Must she? Equal parts anticipation and trepidation warred inside her. She’d sworn she  would never crave him or beg him for anything, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t  have to perform the fucking act with him—this included, she presumed.

When she’d first seen Lavonia do it, she’d  been overcome with shock, but with her  Orientation a few days behind her now, she was able to watch the pretty girl in the garden sliding her lips up  and  down the  handsome  man’s  shaft with an eye toward  technique, skill.

The man named Kells  moaned as  the girl  took him deep, deeper, into her mouth.  Maven doubted she’d ever possess that much  expertise, but as the sight aroused her,  she began to try to envision herself taking  Dane’s rod between her lips. What would it  feel like to have her mouth filled with something so powerful? Would it make her ill— or would it be more like feasting on some delicious delicacy?

She cringed then—at the analogy. She’d  sworn she would never crave him, yet already she was thinking of him like something delicious, just as Lavonia  had advised.
 
Stop it!
 
she commanded  herself, then focused once  more on the lovers in the garden.

Kells had pulled the girl to her feet and now tugged on the leather bodice of her dress until a hook popped free, revealing her  breasts. Smaller than Maven’s own, they were nonetheless pert and pretty, the girl’s pale pink nipples hard. Kells closed his hands over both, squeezing and massaging until she moaned.

“Fuck me,” she said softly. “Fuck me right  here in the grass.” She lay down beneath the rose trellis and lifted her dress to her waist.

Kells groaned at the sight  and dropped to his knees between her spread legs. He bent over, delivering one long, slow lick to the whole  length of her bared pussy, then

57

Lacey Alexander

slid his shaft inside her so smoothly that Maven didn’t quite  believe it had actually gone  in until she  heard the girl say, “Mmm, your cock fills me so well.”

“And your lovely pussy swallows it so  easily,” he replied,  beginning to  thrust  inside her.

Maven absently reached down to press her  hand over her breast, finding her nipplepointed and erect.
 
Ares, why does watching sex feel like torture?
 
So many feelings swirledinside her that she could scarcely understand them.

As Kells drove his shaft into the girl again and again, his movements becoming harder, harsher, Maven’s free hand ventured  down beneath the short dress she wore, between her thighs. She wasn’t surprised to find herself wet there, yet the sensation on her fingers and skittering through her body  still shocked her. She’d grown to want sex so badly these past days—but not with Dane.

Perhaps with anyone
 
but
 
Dane. Donnell. Or  this man before her now. Ares above,she’d sooner writhe around with the pretty girl
 
beneath
 
Kells than  with her husband-to-be.

Truthfully, he was not repulsive to her physically. It was all that their marriagestood for that repelled her so deeply. That, and fear. Of that enormous cock. Of how forcefully he might fuck. Despite the calm  tones she’d heard him use, the fiercer onesthat always followed assured her he would be  the same ruffian in bed that she’d heardhe was in other aspects of life.

Outside, Kells’ tempo grew more and more wild until finally he  let out a mighty groan, lunging against his partner one, two,  three times—before slumping over on her in rest.

“Mmm, lover, was it good?” the girl asked.

Maven barely heard Kells’ quiet answer. “Astounding.”

To her surprise, something made her stop  touching herself then. Because they were  done? Because fear of Dane had  squelched some of her arousal?

She tried to convince herself those were the reasons, but deep inside she knew it  was something else.

She was to  be married tomorrow, after all. She was to join Dane in his bed tomorrow night.

She still didn’t want to fuck him—certainly not. But if she had to, well then…something inside told her she may as  well just let her next orgasm be onedelivered the more traditional way, by someone else, rather than by  her own hand.

It had nothing to do with wanting it to come from Dane, she told herself once more

for good measure—no, nothing to do with that at all.

It was about…tradition. Yes, tradition.  Lavonia had told her fucking came  with many ancient urges and traditions and that, ideally, your partner should make you come. And just because Maven didn’t believe in the traditions surrounding royal marriage didn’t mean she didn’t believe in the traditions of sex.

58

Rituals of Passion

That
 
was the only reason she was saving her  next orgasm  for Dane. The only reason.

* * * * *

Dane lay on  his bed comfortably watching the two maids travel back and forth into his chamber with ewers of hot water, slowly  filling his bathing tub. Dahlia and Ofran were both pretty young women in their  twenties, a few years younger than  himself, andboth had pleasured him on more than one occasion.

“Dahlia,” he said to the raven-haired girl, “before your next trip, summon my bridehere.”

Looking up from where she poured the water, Dahlia quirked a small smile.  “Before the wedding, master?”

Clearly, it was possible to wear impudence much better than Maven had—one, like  Dahlia, could even make it appealing. He knew he should  reprimand her for  the question, but her flirtatious smile was all it  took to quell his complaint. He simply returned her amused  expression. “Don’t worry, I can wait until tonight to take her