Huskily she said, “Give to me your seed, warrior,” and with a savage thrust he filled her mouth, first with his heavy cock and then his salty release, and she took all of that though she still couldn’t take the rest of him.
Not yet.
Softly she licked away the remaining seed and thought she knew why he’d placed such reverent kisses upon her thigh. It was so easy to give pain and to become hardened to it. To give pleasure instead—and to know it was accepted—was a real gift. Mala had never felt so gently toward anyone as she did at that moment.
“No more.” Fingers rough in her hair, Kavik pushed her away from his cock and held her there. “I’ve finished.”
With his iron determination in place again, along with satisfaction—as if he’d passed a test of his own making.
So he would not show her any tenderness, as if tenderness meant he was tamed. Very well. In all her life, Mala hadn’t known much softness. She didn’t need any now.
And the dull ache in her stomach was just hunger.
With a nod, she licked her fingers and turned to the fire. The juices in the clay pot steamed and bubbled around the edge of the lid. “The supper is ready, warrior, and at just the right moment. Your cock isn’t as filling as it appears.”
A sudden tug at the base of her throat pulled her back—Kavik had grabbed the hood of her cloak. Mala suppressed her instinct to fight and let him take her. Dragging her against his hard chest, he wrapped his fingers around her neck.
“Make your bed with mine this night.” The soft gravel of his voice rasped against her ear. “You won’t go to sleep hungry.”
She nodded and shivered as his callused thumb scraped over her racing pulse. “I’ll lie with you.”
Kavik let her go, and with shadowed eyes he watched her prepare the rest of their meal. But this one did not pass in silence, for she asked him about his travels as a sword for hire, and he told her of a mad king who’d paid a thousand soldiers to escort him to the southern jungles, only to sacrifice himself to the jaws of a great thunder lizard. He spoke of creeping vines that would wrap around a sleeping man like a constrictor, and continue holding on until the rotting body had been drained of its fertilizing juices. He’d seen the Salt Sea’s beaches stacked high with giant bones, and he’d hunted wraiths at the feet of the monoliths of Par, said to have been built by the gods themselves.
Belly full, limbs warmed by ale, Mala listened in wonder. He had been farther than any other person she’d known. “Have you ever traveled north? Have you seen Krimathe?”
He looked into the fire for a long moment before shaking his head. “I’ve never been north of these mountains.”
Mala had never been south before her quest. “Have you seen any place untouched by the Destroyer’s hand?”
“No,” he said softly, and they fell quiet then. Finally she rose to prepare the snakes for smoking.
Kavik laid out their bed. When she’d watched him the previous night, he’d only removed his armor. Now he stripped down to his brocs and boots before laying his sword by his saddle, where he would rest his head. The glow of the fire bathed his skin in orange light, and even the fiery sky above could not draw her gaze away.
She laid her sword beside his. Only their exposed position prevented her from removing her tunic and loincloth, and sliding in next to him skin to skin. If bandits came upon them, best to be wearing more than her boots and cloak.
His body was as hot as the fire. She tried to turn toward him, but he pulled her back against his chest, lying on their sides with her head pillowed on his right biceps. His rigid cock nestled into the cleft of her ass.
Frustration bit deep. “Warrior—”
His heavy thigh pushed between hers and lifted, separating her legs. His left hand swept down the curve of her ass and delved through her slick folds from behind. Gasping, Mala arched her spine, pushing closer. His biceps flexed as he pulled her up higher against his shoulder and wrapped his arm across her chest, holding her tight against him. His fingertips teased her entrance.
Oh, no. No teasing. She reached back and gripped his thick hair. “Now.”
He thrust into her. Oh, Vela. She cried the goddess’s name, because even though her sheath was soaked by her need there was pain as he filled her with two broad fingers instead of one.
Kavik froze behind her. “Mala?”
“Don’t stop.” With a breathless moan, she rocked her hips back and forced him deeper. “Take me hard, warrior.”
A groan rumbled through his chest, and she felt the sharp bite of his teeth on the lobe of her ear before he abruptly rolled her onto her stomach and followed her over, his weight pinning her torso to the furs and his cock heavy against her hip. His fingers pushed into her again—slowly, so slowly. Mala screamed and tried to come up on her knees, to force him to a deeper angle. His foot against her ankle shoved her legs wide, denying her leverage. Leisurely he stroked into her, again and again. Cheek pressed into the furs, crying out with each deliciously torturous thrust, she desperately worked her hand beneath her stomach and down to her clitoris. Trapped beneath the weight of her pelvis, she could barely do more than wriggle her fingers, but it was enough, and the painful tension began to spiral more quickly toward the end.
Kavik’s slick fingers glided past hers and paused. She was discovered. Mala stilled, grinning into the furs, her body a taut, throbbing ache.
A chuckle sounded above her. “Now, little dragon?”
“Yes,” she breathed.
He set his teeth against her shoulder and drove his fingers deep. Oh, sweet gods—like this. Mala cried his name and Kavik struck a brutal pace, the heel of his palm pounding her ass with each thrust of his hand. Pinned with her legs widespread, she couldn’t move, could only take every rough stroke. Orgasm roared upon her like a charging beast. Screaming, she came in a hard rush, her slick channel constricting tighter around him with each convulsion that jolted through her flesh.
Then she lay limp, with his chest a heaving bellows against her sweating back. She groaned when his thick fingers slipped from inside her, until he pulled her against him again.
“Every night I will sheathe myself within you,” he said roughly and pushed his thigh between hers, so that her slick, heated flesh rode against heavy muscle. “After your moon night, it won’t be my fingers but my cock, and each day I will have you until my seed overflows your well and runs in a river down your thighs.”
“I hope that is a vow.” With a yawn of sheer exhaustion, Mala snuggled closer and closed her eyes. Her voice was thick with sleep as she said, “Happy dreams, warrior.”
His arms tightened around her. “I do not need them.”
CHAPTER 6
He did not need happy dreams and, in the nights following, he did not receive happy ones. Kavik held her in his arms but in his dreams Mala was walking away, and no matter how he raced he could not catch up to her. But these dreams meant nothing, because upon waking he would have her again. He gave her pleasure and took his whenever and however he wanted.
He was not tamed. Even if his heart was not his own. Even if he could never have enough of her touch or her laugh. Even if he never wanted to face a dawn without her.
He stood firm. For although she believed his taming would not be cruel, Kavik knew it must be. Vela had sent Mala to bring him to his knees again.
So even when she lay so softly against him, her face flushed with sleep, Kavik did not kiss her awake as he wanted to. He watched her, his chest filled with an ever-deepening ache. He stood firm. But for how long? He would do anything for her. If she knew how his heart lay in her hand, soon he might be putting the collar on himself.
But hiding his heart would not be enough. He needed to persuade her beyond any doubt that he would never give in. He needed to push her away, because he weakened with her every touch.