The King Of Hel (4 page)

"You have beautiful hair,” he whispered. His fingers fluttered against her abdomen while his other hand wrapped tendrils of her hair around his wrist, bringing it gently to his nose to inhale its fragrance

Castil stood, transfixed at the softly spoken words and the knowledge that he was slowly making love to her through the husky vibrations of his voice and the deep sounds of his breathing against her flesh. She shivered as his free hand released her hair, only to skim along her hip and down her leg.

There was a moment's silence as she sensed his eyes on her, measuring, assessing the shape of her body, partially concealed by the hazy water. Despite his words, she wondered if he compared her plainness to memories of Kareena's beauty or to other lovers who once shared his bed.

Her silent musings were put to rest when he traced a light finger down her spine, raising chills in its wake. “My dreams were as nothing to this reality. You are more beautiful than I could have imagined,” he murmured.

Castil's lids slid shut. The ability to reason, to think, even to talk was being obliterated by the touch of his hands on her body, the whisper of his voice in her ear.

She jumped, so aroused and on edge, that she almost yelped when his fingers abruptly curled against her hip bones, pulling her hard against him. Whatever doubts she had regarding his desire for her evaporated. The heated bulge of his erection nudged the cleft of her buttocks, unmistakable proof that he wanted her with the same desperation she craved him. She responded by parting her legs and rubbing against him. A low groan was her reward and the fingers resting on her stomach clenched briefly.

Castil's breathing shortened to pants as one of those graceful hands slid upward, across her ribs, to stroke a sensitive breast. She gasped, arching her back as his fingers lightly abraded her nipple. Oh sweet Mother! She wouldn't survive this! The touch of his hand as it gently kneaded her breast and played with her aching nipple was incinerating her, turning the blood in her veins to scorching lava. Moaning, she rested her head back against his shoulder and pushed her buttocks harder against his stiff cock.

He shushed her, running his tongue along the outer curve of her ear, all the while gripping her closer to him. “Shh, fair Castil. Let me enjoy you. This is only the beginning."

The hand at her belly wandered down to the juncture of her thighs and Castil sucked in a hard, gasping breath as he cupped the soft curls. The gasp turned to rhythmic whimpers as his fingers parted her, stroking, sliding, exploring the slick folds while his other hand caressed and fondled her breast with the delicate touch of callused fingertips.

She groaned, bending herself like a bow against Doranis as the seductive, punishing hands played havoc with her body. Her knees buckled as his nimble fingers stroked and rubbed the sensitive pearl at the apex of her thighs. He slid a hard thigh between her legs to support her, and she clasped him between her knees as he continued his relentless onslaught upon her shuddering frame.

She keened softly, feeling the flush of blood heat her face and neck. He was now supporting nearly her entire weight on his leg, and one of those long fingers slid deep into her slick passage, thrusting repeatedly in and out of her as she writhed in his arms.

"I can't,” she panted, nearly incoherent with the sensual torture that was causing her heart to pound in her head and legs to give way.

"You can,” he breathed into her ear, catching the lobe in a playful nip. “You will.” And he lowered his head to sink his teeth gently into her shoulder.

Castil cried out, yielding up to the mind-numbing climax that struck her with the force of a juggernaut, obliterating any coherent thought beneath a crushing, surging tide of sensation. His hand continued to work its magic on her, fingers caressing and stroking in rapid rhythm as she groaned and convulsed in his embrace.

When it was over, she hung in his arms, limp and exhausted, looking very much like a puppet whose strings had been cut in the middle of play. Doranis straightened her against him, freeing the hand cupping her breast to stroke back the sweat-dampened hair from her temple. His breath was sharp, his erection rock hard against her bottom. He nuzzled her neck, running his tongue along the delicate line of her jaw, and his voice was thick and hoarse with both promise and threat.

"Rest, my sweet. After all, this is far from over."

Castil sagged as aftershocks made the muscles in her legs spasm. She remained unresisting as he turned her in his arms to face him. The brackets on either side of his mouth had deepened and the light eyes gleamed like banked coals in his harsh face. Her lips parted instinctively as his head tipped towards her, giving silent welcome as his tongue slid into her mouth, invading and plunging, even as he ground his hips against hers. He tasted of cinnamon tea and the essence of a hot summer's day.

She felt more than heard the heavy groan emanating from his chest as she slid her hands around his back and down to his buttocks, curling her fingers around the tight muscles. He continued to ravage her mouth and she was lost in wet, suctioning heat as he sucked on her tongue and nibbled lightly on her lower lip. He was overpowering heat and lean muscle as he maneuvered them through the water, toward the steps, never breaking the contact between them.

Water sheeted off them in steaming droplets as Doranis lifted her against him, carrying her up the steps and out of the pool. Castil clutched his shoulders, reveling in the feel of smooth, taut skin beneath her palms. The chamber was still chilly, but she paid it little heed, lost within the heated embrace of the magus king. The plush feel of a finely woven tapestry pressed against her back as he laid her on the floor and settled his weight on top of her.

Doranis broke the breath-stealing kiss, lowering his face to her breasts. Castil moaned and rocked against him in mindless abandon as he laved one nipple and then the other, the hot, silky feel of his tongue making her arch upward in a silent appeal for more.

His laughter, deep and satisfied, danced across her skin. “You like this?"

She buried her hands in his long, wet hair, cupping his head to hold him closer. “Yes,” she murmured, the word becoming a rhythmic chant as he suckled her with rapacious greed. He was pulling her into a whirlpool of phrenetic desire and sexual frenzy, where nothing existed save the feel of lean muscle, the wetness of a ravening mouth and the swell of the erection riding between her thighs.

Doranis slowly pulled away from her, breathing in slow, deep gasps. The pale skin of his features was flushed and drawn tight against his facial bones, giving him a distinctly savage appearance. Had she not known the man beneath, been bewitched by his very being, he would have frightened her.

He wrapped an arm around her hips, tightening the embrace between them that melded her pelvis to his. Her thighs spread wide to accommodate his weight and he loomed over her, white hair falling heavily across the broad expanse of his shoulders as he braced an arm on either side of her.

Castil felt his gaze travel over her, from the top of her head, over her pale breasts with the pink nipples still glistening from his kiss, to the damp expanse of her belly and the dark curls pressed against him.

"Gods,” he breathed, and the pale blue eyes burned hot, “you cradle me well."

He settled harder onto her, sliding a hand around the back of her head to lift her to his lips. His kiss was devouring, avaricious, and Castil responded with fervor, entwining her tongue with his, stroking the inner reaches of his mouth as she clamped her thighs hard against his narrow hips.

They parted again, breathing hard, and Doranis reared back to run a hand along her hip, drifting down the length of her leg and back along the soft skin of her inner thigh.

"You are silk beneath my hands,” he whispered, and Castil blushed at the ardor in his voice.

He arched away from her for a moment, leaving her exposed to his predatory gaze. She writhed against him, no longer certain if the flush that heated her skin was from embarrassment, desire, or a combination of both. She quivered in anticipation as those long fingers curled around her womanhood, cupping gently before once again exploring the recesses of her delicate folds.

Castil moaned and bucked against him as a questing finger slid inside of her, stroking and touching the sensitive inner walls. It was soon followed by another finger as he caressed her harder and she thrashed against him so violently, he had to once again settle most of his body weight onto her to maintain control.

"You are so wet, Castil. So slick. So ready to take my cock inside of you.” He lapped at one rosy breast and Castil was caught between a gasp and a growl. “Do not deny me,” he whispered against her nipple.

Deny him? He pulled her to the edge of ecstasy, heating her blood so that she couldn't think beyond the sensation of his fingers sliding in and out of her, his tongue licking her breasts. Any more of such foreplay and there would be nothing left of her except a mound of smoking fireplace ash! She reached down and clamped a hand around his wrist, halting the slow thrust of his fingers into her body.

"Enough,” she rasped. “I welcome you."

The smile he bestowed on her was smoldering, calculating, and infinitely wicked. “And I have waited long enough,” he breathed against her mouth. He reared over her again, and Castil only caught a bare glimpse of his erection, stiff and swollen before he settled hard between her spread thighs.

She sucked in a shocked breath at the hard feel of him, the insistent nudging at her slick opening. A last dying thought raced to the surface of her drowning logic and she closed against him. Doranis's brows rose in dismay.

"I am not untouched,” she murmured, tense with the certainty that he would cast her off because of one brief, clumsy interlude when she was younger and far less realistic.

Long moments seemed to pass before he lowered his head, pressing his mouth to hers in a gentle kiss, so different from the ones he bestowed earlier. “It matters not, for you have been untouched by me until now."

Tears of gratitude and relief burned her eyes, but she pushed them back, returning Doranis's kiss with one of her own, sliding her tongue along his lower lip, playfully nipping the corner of his mouth. He growled in response, his fingers digging into the sides of her hips.

"Yield to me, Castil,” he commanded in that rich, velvet baritone. She acquiesced instantly, relaxing around him as he settled harder onto her, never breaking eye contact as he began the slow, inexorable invasion of her body.

She groaned in his taking of her, pulling her knees up against her chest, clutching his sweat-slick shoulders as he continued his relentless encroachment. The slide and thrust of his rigid shaft as he buried himself within her set the blood pounding in her head. There was a great force pushing down her chest and she found it hard to breath as her body stretched to accommodate his girth, the inner walls of her womb flexing and caressing as he went full and deep.

His groan mimicked hers as he sheathed himself to the hilt, gasping and shivering as she gripped him in a tight, wet glove. He held her face between his hands, pausing to gain control of his breathing and allow her a moment to adjust to him. Castil sucked in a breath, wriggling slightly and watched with fascination as Doranis's lids dropped to half-mast and a hard shudder wracked his frame. She felt filled to bursting, and her hips involuntarily thrust against him. It seemed her body was eager for his possession, desperate for the fulfillment his talented fingers had teased her with earlier.

Doranis stared down at her, lust and passion turning his flushed features severe. “You have taken all of me. Pain?” He whispered.

She shook her head. “Far from it. Just full and I feel a terrible need to move.” She pushed against him again and he lowered his head to capture her lips in a deep, caressing kiss. She moaned into his mouth as he pulled half way out of her, only to surge forward again, sinking into her depths with slow, easy strokes.

Castil wrapped her legs around his waist, heaving against him to meet his thrusts. She caressed his damp hair, pulling away from his kiss to curl upward and nip one small, tight nipple. He bared his teeth, hissing in reaction to her touch and increased the tempo of his movements, plunging into her with a harder force that scooted her back along the rug. He gripped her hips to guide her, sliding her back and forth along his length.

Castil thrashed against him, the hum and sizzle of another climax pulsing through her blood as Doranis bent to nuzzle her breast, pumping rhythmically into her as one hand wandered to the center of her womanhood, stroking in tandem with his thrusts. Her eyes slid shut, the need to slip further into pure sensation too great.

"No, Castil. Open your eyes and look at me. See who possesses you."

They popped back open at his low-voiced command. She stared into his severe face, hypnotized by the glitter in his pale eyes and the sure, rhythmic movement of his body. As before, her orgasm crashed down on her, drowning her beneath waves of sensation. She cried out in a high, whistling moan as her thighs convulsed around Doranis, nearly bucking him off of her with the force of her reaction.

As if from the end of a long tunnel, she saw his sharp features draw tight with distress as he arched his back, eyes rolling back as he emitted a hard, guttural groan and plunged into her one last time. Castil sighed, shuddering at the sweet feel of warmth as he spent himself into her. He collapsed onto her, burying his face in her neck, and sucking in great gulps of air.

Castil kept her legs tight around him, raising a shaking hand to stroke his wet hair. He turned his head to face her, their noses nearly touching. She smiled into the fathomless light eyes. “I have dreamed of you as well, and this is far better than any dream."

His lips, swollen and red from her enthusiastic kisses, twitched with humor. “No more dreams then,” he rasped. “You will come to my bed and there will be no sleep for either of us this night."

She traced the line of his thin nose with one finger, smiling as he kissed the tip as it passed over his lips. “Are you asking or commanding, Sire?"