Rituals of Passion (12 page)

virginity.”

“Then for what purpose—?”

His smile faded. “That is not you’re concern. Just summon her.” He’d given her an  inch and she’d taken much more. He should have chastised her in the first place. Still,  the fact that he hadn’t, that he’d been momentarily won over by a bit of flirtation, made  him all the  angrier at  his bride. All it would take from her would be a smile, a kind  word, and he’d feel so  much more lenient toward her, so much more forgiving.

But she was such a stubborn little innocent that he didn’t expect to see a smile fromher anytime  soon—so his methods of torturing her would continue. Yesterday he’d sent  Kells and Lonya into the garden  outside  her window, knowing full well she’d be too bored and curious to resist looking out. According to his friend, Maven’s eyes had been seen at the narrow window for  the length of their encounter. Surely her pussy had been left humming with desire and her mind spinning with curiosity about sex. One couldn’t know exactly what her  Orientation had entailed—that was a very private business—but whether or not she’d actually  been trained by example, he  felt confident that watching  Kells and Lonya had heightened all the longings that had surely been brewing for some time in a ripe virgin of bride’s age.

Now he would take his sensual torture a step further.

He lay with  his  hands  propped  behind his head, his feet crossed at  the ankles,  when a soft knock came on the door. “Enter,” he said.

Maven came in dressed casually, wearing a fitted tunic of pale tan leather and a short skirt of thin fur. As always, her hair  was braided behind her head— he lookedforward to seeing it down around her shoulders later tonight.

She shifted her gaze from him to the tub, looking as belligerent as  usual. “What isthis?”

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“It’s a bathing tub. An artifact certainly,  but surely a wealthy ruler like Enrick owns

one or two.”

She let out a small huff. “I know  what it is, but…why am I here?”

He sat up on the bed and removed his own leather tunic over his head. “As it is our wedding day,” he said, “I’m going to bathe.” Only then  did  he look her squarely in theeye, unconcerned if a hint of amusement shone in his gaze. “I want you to watch.”

She flinched. “
Why
?”

He simply smiled as he  pushed to his feet and reached down to begin undoing hispants’ lacings. “I thought this would be  a good opportunity  for you to becomeacquainted with my body. We’re to be married, you know. I thought this might make tonight less jarring for you.”

She blinked, looking outraged. “I saw your…” She stopped, clearly unbalanced. He couldn’t have enjoyed it more. “Well, I saw  enough of you at the Giving Ceremony and am in no rush to see you again.”

He grinned. “Too bad. And the Giving Ceremony was too brief. I want  you to seeall of me, Maven. I want you to look your fill.  When I take your virginity tonight, I want you to be ready for me.”

She lowered her chin defiantly. “I  will never be ready for you, never
 
want
 
you. Ever.”

“So you keep saying. But if that’s  the case, then it  shouldn’t bother you to sit and watch me bathe. So sit.” He pointed to a  chair positioned near the tub. “And watch.” He’d added a commanding tone to the instruction and now waited as she decided  whether or  not to disobey.

After a  few  seconds’ hesitation, she seated  herself in the chair and scowled at  him.  He took the opportunity to push down his pants, revealing his erection, still rock hard.

She gasped at the sight, and he couldn’t resist a grin. “Like what  you see, my littlebride?”

She clearly tried—and failed—to look aloof and unconcerned. “Not particularly.

I’ve seen better.”

He gave his head an inquisitive tilt.  “Seen a great many cocks, have you?”

He liked the blush that climbed her cheeks, even though she attempted to sound

worldly when she answered. “During my Orientation. And…actually, I saw one just  yesterday. In your garden.”

He nodded slightly, as if that were commonplace, then said, “Despite how many  you may have seen, I’d wager you’ve seen none as big as mine.”

As he’d hoped, the words drew her gaze back to his shaft—rising hard from the  nest of hair between his legs, a gleam of moisture shining on its head. He stroked it  lightly while she watched.

Yet she only shrugged and refused to answer.

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“Well, my little virgin,  whether or not you like my cock, you
 
will
 
be getting to  know it. So whether or not you want to, you
 
will
 
watch me bathe.”

With that, he kicked off his pants  and strode  to the ancient white tub, stepping into  the warm water. He sensed her tensing now that he’d moved nearer, and he took his  time sitting down, to give her a good  long perusal of his stiff shaft.

He’d ordered the bathing tub to be filled  to a depth from  which his rod would still  be quite visible, so even after he’d reclined, he knew she would not be able to resist looking.

Once in the tub, he reached for a sea sponge  and lathered it with a square of  soap,  then unhurriedly began to wash himself. First, he slowly dragged the soapy sponge  across his chest, aware when trails of bubbles  began to run down over his stomach, then  around his  cock. He didn’t look up from his task, but felt his young, rebellious bride watching— unable to help herself.

He made leisurely work of moving the sponge down the length of  his arm, his skin  subtly beginning to  tingle at  the gradual  motions. Despite himself, he was getting aroused, too—well, even more aroused than his  constant erection of the past days kept  him. He was imagining
 
her
 
in a  bathing tub, imagining  the sponge passing over her  silky white  skin.

He bent one knee up from the water, slowly  washing over top of it and beneath,  then sliding the sponge up his inner thigh,  letting it linger over each inch of his skin.  He’d never actually thought to have a woman watch him bathe before, and it was more  erotic than he’d imagined. He only hoped it was having the same effect on her.

Finally,  he  swept the sponge in  a  lingering  circle around his cock, making certain to  get the  length of  it soapy, and  enjoying the  sensation that edged  up through him as he performed the task in a most time-consuming manner.

He found himself wanting to
 
keep
 
moving the sponge over his engorged rod, wanting to caress himself until he came.  How much would that excite her? he  wondered. Or—he thought with a silent chuckle—would it send his virgin bride shrieking from the room?

But no, he’d  waited this long for her. Despite her insolence—or maybe even because  of it—he wanted to give her everything he  had, every ounce of seed that was building  up inside him. He wanted to fuck her with the power of all these days and nights of  self-torture, and before that happened  he wanted to make her beg for it.

He bit his lip to quell the rise of passion  inside him as he drew the sponge away  from his shaft, then  lifted his gaze to her  for the first time since he’d begun washing. She darted her eyes away from his cock. He tried not to grin as he looked back down to begin rinsing the soap suds from his body.

When  he  stood  up  in  the tub,  water sluicing from his skin, she flinched, drawing his gaze. This time, however, she didn’t  look  away  from  his  nudity.
 
Couldn’t
, he guessed.  The knowledge made  him want to erupt  that much more, but tonight was their

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wedding, he reminded himself. Soon enough  he would have the quarrelsome girl, soon  enough he would sink  his agonized  shaft into her warm virgin cunt.

“I seem to have forgotten a drying cloth,” he said, then pointed toward a rack the maids had placed next  to the tub, but which he’d moved farther away before Maven’s  arrival. “Hand one to me.”

She met his gaze briefly then did as he’d  instructed, although she seemed to takegreat care in making sure their fingers didn’t  touch as she passed it.

He began drying off without bothering to cover himself. “Tonight you will feel farmore than merely my hand, bride,” he said, letting a hint of a grin leak out.

She didn’t answer, and he went about finishing his task, finally stepping  out of thetub onto a fur rug. Dropping the  cloth there,  he turned and padded to the bed, taking aseat on the  end of it,  well aware his cock  still stretched prominently past his navel. “Only a few more hours until we’re wed, Maven,” he said, “and my bride  has not yet even given me a kiss.”

He saw her pull in her breath—nervous, perhaps anxious.

“Come here and kiss me,” he said, much more  of a demand than a request. He held his gaze hard on hers to make sure she  understood that she  was not being given achoice. She was his now and it was time she began to accept that. “Don’t tempt my anger, little  bride,” he said softly, eyes still pinning her in place.

As if realizing she had no other options, she pushed slowly to her feet, but  hesitated before she started across the stone floor toward him. He could almost see her fightingwith herself—everything in the headstrong girl  told  her not to  want him, but  she did.  He
 
knew
 
she did, could feel the desire emanating from her.

When finally she stood directly in front of  him, he reached up to gently cup her face in his  hands, pulling her down, down, closer. “Kiss me here,” he murmured, and thentheir lips met. He made the kiss  firm and full, but fleeting, then slowly urged her downfarther until she dropped to her knees beside him.

“And here.”  He guided  her head toward his  cock until the shaft was only a fraction

of an inch from her lips. “Do it,” he whispered, barely audible.

She kissed the side of his cock the same as she had his mouth—nervous and

unskilled. It still sent a shockwave of pleasure jolting through him, enough to make a  lesser man  explode right then and there. The  girl clearly needed some training in the  area of kissing, but her mouth had felt exquisite just the same.

Seeming to suddenly realize what she’d done, she shot to her feet, looked with  surprised horror into his eyes, then cast  her gaze downward toward her toes.

Reaching up once more, he lifted her chin  with bent fingers and let her see the heat  that surely shone in his eyes. “You may  go now, Maven. Go and prepare for our  wedding. You will find maids in your chamber to help you. And the next time we see  each other, we will be bound together…for life.”

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Chapter Eight

Maven practically dashed from his room, horrified over what she’d done. She

couldn’t believe she’d kissed his cock that way—worse, that she’d
 
wanted
 
to!

But, dear Ares, she could no longer deny it to herself—his body was…
magnificent
. His cock was monstrous and yet she was inexorably drawn to it. The muscles of his arms, chest,  legs, made  her want to touch.  She’d vowed never to want him, but it was clearly beyond her control.

Well, of course, she’d  also vowed never to
 
beg
 
him,  and that part she could still achieve—
 
would
 
still achieve.

But if he took her tonight, without trying to  coerce her into asking him to—
oh Ares,please let him have mercy upon me!
 
—she knew now that she would
 
welcome
 
it. She would welcome his touch. She would welcome  his tremendous shaft inside her.

She still didn’t see how  the thing was going to
 
fit
 
in there, but if other women could

accommodate it, surely she could as well.

As she slowed her pace, her heartbeat coming back to normal—well, as close tonormal as possible under the  circumstances—she found herself thinking she should probably be thrilled at this turn of  events.  She should be thrilled to discover she wantedhim and wasn’t afraid of his cock. But there still remained one horrible issue standing between them. That of his
 
owning
 
her. That of his
 
controlling
 
her and wishing her to follow his every command.

It might be  the way of the world she’d been  born into, but she still couldn’t accept that. In fact, it almost made her hate herself for wanting him now. How could she want a man who was willing to treat her like an object? He’d even agreed she was a stepping stone to the  throne.

Ares above, what had happened to her life? A week ago, she’d been her normal, happy self, playing curiously at her Maran tiles and anticipating marriage. She’d never have dreamed she’d be thrust into this  foreign world where she was expected to become one more worshipper of a man who already seemed worshiped by all thosearound him—and feared by everyone else in Caralon.

By the time she reached her room, she’d  nearly forgotten Dane had told her maids would be awaiting her. Three lovely young girls, perhaps her age or a bit older, lounged about on the fur rug in front of the bathing tub that had  been carried in. Two were blonde, the other a brunette with  sparkling green eyes. All were slender andstriking.