Royal Obsession (12 page)

Excitement zinged through him, sparking sensations and heat. Her smell intoxicated him and her taste made him ravenous for more. He felt dizzy and anxious and restless all at once. He had to feel her come, had to hear her scream with the intensity of her release. Pushing his fingers in as far as he could reach, he fastened his lips around her clit and sucked. She cried out, her inner muscles pulsed as her orgasm neared. He released her clit and drilled her with his fingers, building the pressure, pushing her higher.

Taking her to the edge with relentless care, he had her trembling with need before he withdrew his fingers and pressed his mouth against her folds. He held her open with the pressure of his lips while his tongue aroused her further. Flicking her clit and stabbing into her core, he savored her essence and relished her cries.

She arched into his torrid kiss, pushing herself onto his tongue. Gripping her hips more firmly than he’d intended, he leaned into her, swirling and thrusting, his nose rubbing her clit. She screamed, and the rhythmic spasms of her passage nearly pushed him over the edge. He would not,
could not
come until he was buried deep inside her.

Gasping for breath, he reluctantly lifted his mouth and looked into her eyes. Her entire body was flushed and trembling with little aftershocks. She stared at him in dazed wonder, her gaze luminous. Her taste was addictive, her body snug and hot. She responded with uninhibited passion. How in Mara’s name would he ever give her up?

Echo couldn’t think, could scarcely breathe. Nothing in her limited experience had prepared her for this. Varrik had touched her with almost reverent care, then gradually increased the intensity until he claimed her with his tongue. His tongue! He’d worked her to orgasm with his tongue. And she had reveled in every minute of it.

The blue rings in his eyes glowed with possessive desire. Her nipples tingled and sensations rippled through her abdomen. The savage demand in his gaze frightened and thrilled her. If his kiss had become so aggressive, how would she survive the rest?

She turned her face away, trying to catch her breath. He grasped her chin and turned her head back around. Her protest died with the first thrust of his tongue. He smelled like passion, tasted like her shameless response to his claiming. With a whimper, she stroked her tongue against his, accepting the unfamiliar taste, acknowledging her surrender.

Something blunt and warm pressed against her opening. She trembled beneath him. He wouldn’t hurt her. She’d had sex before, yet it had been nothing like this. Kiel had been tender and sweet. Varrik conquered, ravished with passionate skill.

“Relax. You’re more than ready, I made sure of it.”

He drove inward. Her body opened, surrounding him, accepting him. He pulled almost out, then thrust hard. She gasped, and a violent shudder racked her body. He drove in farther and farther, not stopping until their bodies were flush. She felt incredibly full, stretched just short of pain.

“Am I hurting you?” he whispered into her damp hair.

Unable to form the word, she managed to shake her head.

He slipped his hands beneath her bottom and rocked back onto his knees. Keeping his length buried inside her, he bent to her breasts, nuzzling first one and then the other. He sucked and licked while she marveled at the persistent fullness of his thick shaft. How did he restrain himself when he was obviously desperate for release?

With infinite care, he pulled back, until only the flared head remained inside her. He eased his hand between their bodies and circled her clit as he steadily filled her again. His first thrust had been hard and sudden. Each stroke that followed seemed incredibly long and deep. He stretched her, filling her more completely than she’d ever imagined.

He kept his movements slow and smooth until her body welcomed him with liquid heat. “Oh, yes,” he murmured. Shifting both hands to her hips, he thrust faster. Her breasts quivered, and each firm drive pulled against the cuffs. She canted her hips, relishing the pressure around her wrists and ankles. His pace turned frantic, self-control at last exhausted. His hands returned to her ass, squeezing and lifting as he took her with his powerful body and burning eyes. Pleasure soared, sweeping rational thought aside.

Heat swirled through her, cascading along her spine and erupting in her core. He thrust deep one last time. Tension corded his neck and his chest heaved. Gritting his teeth, he threw back his head and shuddered violently. His shaft bucked inside her, his seed exploding in forceful streams. Pleasure rolled through her, each tingling wave more intense than the last. She cried out and tightened her inner muscles, holding him the only way her position allowed.

Varrik shifted to his knees, and Echo whimpered. “Please.” The plaintive word escaped before she realized how much it revealed. She didn’t want to lose the fullness of their joining, but admitting the weakness was foolish, dangerous.

“I’m not going anywhere.” His passion-bright eyes burned into hers as they basked in the afterglow. “I should be angry with you, but this felt so good I won’t hold your lie against you.”

The Mystic barrier she’d created to block her womb wasn’t a lie, exactly, more like a deception. “I never lied to you.”

“You weren’t a virgin.”

“I never said I was.” Protected by the truth, she boldly met his gaze. “You overheard E’Lanna’s telepathic plea, and I told you I wasn’t as innocent as my sister believed.”

“So you did.” Reaching backward, he deactivated her ankle cuffs and drew her legs up along his chest until her heels rested on his shoulders. He pushed the cushions beneath her bottom and began to arouse her all over again. “You seemed to enjoy having my mouth on you. Have you ever pleasured a lover with your mouth?” She shivered, her inner muscles rippling around him. He chuckled at her reaction. “Does that mean you did and you enjoyed it, or you wanted to and—”

“I haven’t pestered you with questions about your lovers. What gives you the right to know all my secrets?”

“For the next five days, I’m your master. I have a right to anything that pleases me.” He bent her knees and spread her legs wide, thrusting deep. She gasped, bracing herself for the onslaught promised in his unyielding expression. His gaze narrowed, and his lips pressed into a furious line. He shifted his hips, his expression turning thoughtful. “What have you done?”

This time she knew exactly what he was asking.

“You know I can sense Mystic energy. Why did you believe I wouldn’t feel this?” He pulled out and crawled off the bed, his erection ebbing as his anger grew.

“I told you I would resist you with my dying breath,” she stated quietly. “You expect me to give up my child.”

He clenched his hands into fists, the blue rings in his eyes glowing brighter than they’d ever burned before. “You call this honor?” He gestured toward the apex of her thighs. “When I give my word, I keep it. I stayed true to my vow, even when my body—” Someone pounded on the privacy panel, interrupting his tirade. “Not now!”

The door slid open, and Echo tugged frantically at the wrist cuffs. Having Varrik see her like this was one thing. She would not be put on display!

Uncaring of his own nakedness, Varrik spun toward the door. “I said— Can this please wait, sir? I’m punishing my female.”

The abrupt change in Varrik’s demeanor sent a chill down Echo’s spine.

“So I see.” The panel slid closed behind the stranger, and he approached the bed.

Echo bent her knee and angled one leg over the other in a futile attempt at modesty. The man carried himself with the calm assurance that came only with great authority. Varrik had called him sir. This couldn’t be good. What was he doing here?

His dark eyes were ringed with blue, just like Varrik’s, but there was no resemblance in their features. Where Varrik’s were sculpted with unforgiving angles and high cheekbones, this man’s face was rounded and somewhat blunt. She looked back into his blue-ringed gaze and shivered. How many of the Shadow Assassins had Rodytes in their linage? She glanced between the two men, helplessness chewing at her gut.

“What can I do for you?” Though Varrik’s words were correct, his tone was tight and angry.

“Who is this woman?” the stranger demanded.

“I claimed her and her sister when I ventured to the world above.” The utter lack of expression in his features was telling in itself. “You gave me permission to hunt, sir. Is there a problem?”

Instead of reiterating his question, the stranger looked at Echo. “What’s your name, child?”

She hesitated. Would her situation go from bad to worse? At least she understood what Varrik wanted and why. She knew nothing about his superior. “Why do you want to know?”

One of his dark eyebrows arched, and his gaze swept over her naked body. “Are you content with your situation?”

“How do you intend to better my situation?”

To her utter mortification, he ran two fingers in between her thighs and raised the shiny digits toward his nose. “I won’t chain you to my bed and cover you with my seed.”

“My claim is valid. It was pre-approved and—”

“Did you snatch her from Mystic Valley?”

Varrik moved closer, insinuating himself between the bed and the other man. “She is not a Mystic. Ask her if she is allowed inside the Conservatory.” His broad back partially obscured her view of the intruder.

“Are you a Mystic?” His angry gaze darted toward Echo, then returned to Varrik’s face.

Technically, she wasn’t a Mystic. Her abilities were scattered and unpredictable. She’d never bothered applying to the Conservatory. The Mystics tended to be passive and politically neutral. Early on, she’d chosen a different path.

He will barter you to the Rodytes. You must trust me in this. He is—

The man backhanded Varrik so hard his head snapped to the side and blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. “It is rude to talk behind an elder’s back, and you know it.” Shoving Varrik to the side, he faced Echo, his dark eyes narrowed. “Are you a Mystic?”

“No.”

“Then what were you doing in Mystic Valley?”

“My…cousin was getting married.” She suspected he knew her identity. If she lied now, it would only cast doubt on anything she told him.

“Why would a shapeshifter not be accepted by the Conservatory?” His tone snapped with demand.

“I can only hold a shift for a second or two. Though unusual, the ability is of no real use.”

“Except scanning open doors,” Varrik muttered.

“Did you know who she was when you targeted her?” the man asked Varrik.

Varrik took a moment to answer. He didn’t so much as glance at Echo. With his hands clasped behind his back and his gaze fixed on the older man’s face, he stated his case in a calm, precise tone. “When you gave me permission to hunt, you told me to choose carefully, to find a strong, healthy female, full of passion and energy.”

“I didn’t mean Mystic energy!”

“The Customs only precludes Mystics, sir,” Varrik insisted. “I know the law. She is not a Mystic. I am within my rights.”

The men stared at each other in strained silence, Varrik’s expression inscrutable, the elder’s filled with hostility. Taking advantage of the momentary lull, Echo reached out for E’Lanna.

“I will confer with the other elders and get back with you.” He turned on the ball of his foot and left the room.

Echo barely heard his departure over the rushing of blood through her ears. E’Lanna didn’t respond to her seeker pulse. Echo felt no shield, no telepathic trail,
nothing
. “She’s gone.” Echo twisted against her restraints, trying in vain to sit up. “I can’t sense her. E’Lanna is gone!”

* * * * *

North stomped down the corridor unable to decide if he was angry or amused. Varrik was up to something. After seeing Echo naked and rosy with carnal fulfillment, he could see why any man would risk the wrath of the elders to claim her. His steps faltered. Was that all Varrik had done, taken a woman unattainable to most men in the world below? He would love to believe Varrik’s motives were no more malevolent than that. It was just too hard to swallow.

He returned to the meeting room and took his seat without interrupting the heated debate going on between East and South. South loved to argue. He generally took an opposing position regardless of the issue.

“What did you find out?” West asked as South paused to take a breath.

“My wily nephew is bending the rules as far as possible without breaking them.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? Did he realize this woman was a shifter when he chose her as his mate? What about the sister? Does she have abilities, too?” South rattled off the questions, content to abandon the other subject, at least for the time being.

“I suspected Varrik would only breed once, so I encouraged him to set his sights high. He followed my advice to a greater extent than I intended.”

“You’re still hinting at meaning,” West said. “Spell it out.”

“Though not technically Mystics, the females Varrik targeted would never have been considered for our program.”

“And why is that?” South wanted to know.

“Because his twins are E’Lanna and Echo dar Aune.”