She forced a smile on her face she hoped he wouldn’t realize was more pain than truth. He looked so serious, so sincere, and yet so VoT sexy. How could she tell him that what he was asking of her was already too late? That she’d been more than half-way in love with him since she’d been sixteen?
She had to try, though, even if it meant telling a little white lie. “I’m no longer a child. I’m all grown up or haven’t you noticed.” She wiggled her hips up and her belly swiped across his rock-hard cock. He flinched. “All I want, all I’d ever expect from you is a quick romp once in a while to take the edge off, nothing more. We are both adults, and we both know our duty.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Just a romp, really? Hummm, I wonder. It’s experience I’m speaking from, not arrogance, princess. More than a few lasses have said the same thing, then fallen prey to emotions I couldn’t return, and I regret hurting them.”
She gulped, and then did her best to hide her reaction with a smile.
He hesitated a moment, then continued. “I’m the grandson of a traitor, Mia, and I will always be the grandson of a traitor. Nothing can ever change that fact. I can never lead a normal life like everyone else. It’s only by the grace of your brother, Zander; I have any position of honor at all. I will not repay his trust, his friendship, by hurting his sister or sullying her name.”
He took a deep breath. “So, what will it be, princess, your promise, or shall we simply go back to sleep?”
She wasn’t sure which she wanted to do first, punch him or kiss him again, really she didn’t. So instead, she laid back, slipped her arms around his shoulders and stared up into his molten chocolate eyes. His life really must have been very hard. She couldn’t begin to understand what it must’ve been like growing up in that far north barbarian village of Bane, away from polite society, away from sunshine, most of the year anyway, and away from any kind of warmth.
And she had no idea what it had been like to have been raised amongst people who’d all been exiled to the cold barren wasteland for one reason or another. People, who didn’t dare look each other in the eye, people who couldn’t bring themselves to trust each other, let alone those who came from anywhere different.
She couldn’t even blame him for feeling the way he did and demanding such a stupid promise. If their roles were reversed, would she feel undeserving, unworthy of love? She probably would. She wanted to yell at him and tell him he was wrong, though. She wanted to hold him. She wanted to wash away all the hurt and the injustice he’d suffered. She wanted to love him so hard and for so long he’d forget what it was like to have never been loved all along.
Instead, Mia smiled up at him once more, confident in her decision. She crossed her fingers as she continued to look him straight in the eye. “I promise not to go all lovey-dovey-mushy on you, Talon Starkweather,” she whispered, hoping, with all her heart, he wouldn’t realize a few of those tender feelings had already, long ago imbedded themselves deep within her heart.
Chapter Six
Talon touched Mia. Not just with his fingertips, but with his lips, his teeth, his tongue, his hands, his legs, his cock, his feet, his entire body, and even his soul. He couldn’t get enough. Her skin was like the softest velvet, the sound of her breathing like angel song. She smelled of hot, lusty, sweet woman, and she tasted of the forbidden, a meal worthy of a king. And when she suddenly shuddered, then shivered beneath his touch, before sighing into his embrace, he thanked God Draka above for the gift he’d been so graciously given. A gift he knew someone like him, especially him, not only wasn’t worthy of but didn’t deserve.
That was exactly why he’d made her promise not to develop tender feelings for him. It was one thing to lie, to sabotage, to rip apart the dreams of someone so innocent, so pure of heart, when that person was not much more than a stranger. But it would be an unforgivable act if by chance love became involved.
He was the worst kind of fraud. What kind of man offered his help in the guise of friendship while planning the downfall of his future queen? Even if it was in her best interest, it wasn’t right. And he’d finally gone and done what he’d sworn he’d never do. He’d sunken lower than low. He’d become a traitor like his long ago ancestor. And if Mia, the future queen of the barbarian race, ever found out about his deception, it wouldn’t be sighing against his skin and cuddling into his arms she’d be doing. She’d have his head upon a pike, and he certainly wouldn’t blame her.
She punched him in the shoulder. “Am I boring you?”
Talon took a deep breath. He hadn’t realized he’d stopped. What a stupid mistake. He was going to have to be more careful, or she would see right through him and know him for what he really was. He couldn’t let that happen. If it did, his mission, his promise to Zander, would be over before it had a decent chance to begin.
He shook his head, grabbed a handful of her ass, and squeezed. “Oh, I’m not the least bit bored, princess. I was trying to decide which to do first, devour your oh-so-yummy clit with my lips, my tongue and my teeth, or plunder and ravish that scrumptious pussy of yours with my cock.” He wiggled his hardness against her for good measure. “It’s a very, very hard choice to make.”
She laughed and prodded him until he flipped over, and then she straddled him. “You got to do the devouring and plundering last time, barbarian.” Her voice became low and husky as she grinned. “It’s my turn.”
Talon’s balls tightened and his cock yearned for her touch as slowly she slid and wiggled her way down his body, kissing and nipping his chest, his nipples, and his belly as she went. Finally, she reached her destination and took his eager cock firmly within her grasp. His VoT organ had the audacity to leap at her touch, as if he were an untried youth instead of a full grown, very experienced barbarian. And the blasted thing quivered and pulsed beneath the tips of her fingers, impatiently waiting, almost begging for what he was fairly certain was coming next.
He closed his eyes, took in a huge gulp of air, held it, and prayed. He could almost feel those luscious lips slipping over his cockhead, almost sense the exact moment her tongue would flick out and taste him for the very first time. Her hand slowly slid up and down his shaft, and sparks of excitement ricocheted through his belly, back, and balls. It was on the tip of his tongue to beg her to take him into her mouth and put him out of his misery when she did exactly that.
Talon bucked, hard. The experience of Mia taking his cock into her mouth and sucking it all the way to the back of her throat would be good, of that he’d had no doubt, but he’d never imagined exactly how good, good could be.
Hot, oh, my God Draka, was her mouth hot, moist, and heavenly. His rod strained forward as it slid in and out unimpeded, as if lubed with the most precious of oils. Her tongue teased his head’s tender ridge while her fingers toyed with his sac. Her teeth scraped the veins running along his shaft’s length while her cheeks contracted and sucked him in hard and deep. She swallowed, and then started the process all over again. Her hand squeezed not so gently, and his mind blurred.
A fine film of sweat broke out on his forehead as he tried unsuccessfully to catch his breath. With every pass her tongue made, rhythmic surges of white-hot pleasure shot straight through the head of his cock and all the way to his spine before landing square in the pit of his balls.
What the VoT was wrong with him? Where was the self-control he was so proud of? It had deserted him. With any other woman he’d ever lain with, he hadn’t had this problem. He’d always been able to give or receive oral gratification for at least a full turning of the hourglass before beginning to feel the urgency he was now plagued with.
But not with Mia.
Talon could already sense the pressure, the tightening, the inevitable, and if he didn’t slow this…this madness down soon, he was going to come apart like an untried school boy and embarrass himself. That simply wouldn’t do.
He grabbed her shoulders and hauled her up his body. Positioning her sweet pussy right above his throbbing cock, he slowly slid her down its length until he felt the head of his shaft touch the opening to her womb. God Draka, she was tight, and slick, and if the little mewling sounds coming from her throat were any indication, she was as close to coming as he was.
Then she leaned forward and kissed him. She tasted of musk mixed with magic, combined with equal parts sweetness and power. Her tongue warred with his own, giving, yet taking what she wished. Their breaths mingled as she nipped at his lips. “I need,” she growled. “I need now.”
He grasped her waist, lifted her, and then dropped her back down, faster this time, harder. His eyes crossed, and his ass clenched as tremors of delight pooled at the base of his cock before racing up his spine and all the way down to his toes. He couldn’t move, and he couldn’t think. And when Mia suddenly rose on her own and plunged back down again, clenching around him as she went and burying his cock even deeper than he thought possible, he forgot to breathe.
His mind became a fog. He shook his head, trying to clear it, and trying to slow the process racing out of control deep in his gut. He forced himself to think of weird blow-up dolls and gay-Goth gnomes. Of an unwanted dragon and an equally unwanted purple-haired young lass and her mother. Of a gnome cousin who was more ogre than gnome, and even the unpleasant task and promise he no longer wanted anything to do with. Anything to keep his mind off the fact Mia’s slick, hot sheath was gliding so gloriously over his shaft.
It was no use, though. He needed to come and he needed to come soon, or the head of his cock was going to explode.
He vowed he’d do better, last longer, next time. He grabbed her hips and pumped furiously upward.
“Yes,” she screamed. “Just like that. Fuck me, barbarian. Fuck me good. Fuck me hard. Fuck me like you mean it.”
The walls of her sheath clenched, contracted, and spasmed about him no more than a single heartbeat before his own release. Shockwaves of bliss shot straight through his ass and out the slit of his cock as reality slipped away. He spiraled into a glorious oblivion as Mia’s sweet pussy milked every last drop of his essence. And with a sigh, Talon unwillingly gave over yet another small sliver of his heart.
****
The sound of growling coming from the other side of her door awakened Mia, and she sat straight up. Talon touched her arm, placed a finger to his lips, and gestured for her to wait where she was. Quickly, he donned his breeks, grabbed his sword, crossed the floor, and threw open the door.
She almost laughed at the sight, and she would’ve if the halfling messenger standing on the other side of her sleeping chamber, trembling in his boots while Pearl barred her teeth and starred him down, didn’t also mean she was being summoned already. He didn’t say a single word, but his hand shook as he handed the missive to Talon and backed away. Then he simply turned and fled.
Wrapping a fur about herself, Mia rose and joined Talon. He handed her the single sheet of parchment without comment. There was no need for words. They both knew exactly what it was. The council was ready to see her. Though she knew it was coming, expected it even, she’d hoped for at least a few days reprieve before her challenge began.
She blinked twice, took a deep breath, and let the missive drift to the floor. “I—I didn’t except this so soon. I must hurry.” Grabbing up the wrinkled gown she’d discarded from the night before, she slipped it on.
“No, don’t rush. That would be a mistake.” He yanked the gown back up and over her head. “Don’t you see, that’s exactly what they want you to do? They want you off balance, anxious, and hurried. Make them wait, Mia. You’re the next queen of Alaria. It’s your challenge. Show that room full of crotchety old barbarians you’re in charge here, not them. You can’t let them see your fear. If you do, you’ve lost your quest before you’ve even begun.”
A lump formed in her throat, and she swallowed hard. She didn’t feel like a queen or that she was in charge of much at all. But he did have a point. She couldn’t allow the council to see how affected by this entire process she was. Her fear could and would be used against her, of that she had no doubt. Perhaps she had no control over what the council would say or what quests they would choose, but her own emotions she could and would control. And if not precisely control, she’d sure as VoT hide what she didn’t want seen. After all, it was about time. All those princess classes on deportment and presence would pay off.
She tossed the gown away. “You’re right. The council is here because I will them to be, and they must see me as strong, as someone to contend with. Please go and inform that group of crotchety old barbarians for me that I’ll gladly meet with them
after
my bath and
after
I’ve broken my fast. Not a moment sooner.”
Talon grinned. “That’s my girl.”
Mia lifted her chin, grinned, and waved a hand toward him. “Oh, and see to my bath and meal while you’re at it, knave.”
Talon winked. “Only if I get to wash your back and play in your bubbles.”
She paced while waiting for the servants to arrive, and she paced after her bath while deciding what to wear and while dressing. She paced as she nibbled upon strips of roasted water buffalo and grapes and even as she washed down her meal with a tankard of strong Alarian ale. She paced and paced until Talon finally and gently grabbed her arm and put a stop to her forward movement. “I think you’ve kept them waiting long enough to make your point, princess.”
She nodded and turned toward the door. Her legs wobbled like rubber in her tight buff leather breeks, but she was glad for the support of her sturdy, knee-high black boots. She patted her hair and made sure it was all still in the long braid down the middle of her back. And then she tugged on the hem of her dark-purple—the color of the house of Hammerstrike—lace tunic and watched Talon’s eyes pop as they roamed her more-than-decently-should-be-displayed cleavage. It was the effect she was after, and she was ready.
“Would you like a cloak, my lady?”