“We shouldn’t.” Talac agreed, his breathing gratifyingly ragged.
The two of them suspended, gazes meeting and melding. So many obstacles, so many reasons why they should stop assailed them both. Who they were. The mantles of responsibilities they carried. The expectations of everyone relying upon them, weighting them both down.
Neither could look away.
A lone thought bubbling out of the incomprehensible miasma gripped Alia. When would she ever be alone with Talac again? Just the two of them? This was her one and only chance… and she didn’t want to push him away. Her hand, the one clutching her dress, of its own accord flexed, and like a waterfall of liquid fire her costume fell away to puddle around her feet.
“Tonight.” She wasn’t asking.
“Tonight.” They were in sync, his voice a harsh low whisper full of need, his gaze roaming slowly down her nude body. “The Deities above are beyond envious of me right at this moment.”
Stepping out of the pool of material, Alia kicked it out of the way. Appreciating Talac’s control. He was waiting for her to make all the first moves. The gallant idiot probably still willing to walk away if she abruptly changed her mind. Though there was no way in the nine circles of hell she was backing out now.
Reaching out, Alia grabbed the waistband of his trousers, flicking open the top button, then the next, then the next. She wasn’t sure Talac was even breathing at this stage. Glancing up to double check. His expression was one of heat and need. It almost sent her to her knees… there was a thought, abruptly dropping to the floor.
“What are you doing?” Talac growled out the words.
“Whatever I damn well like.” She grabbed his trousers, pulling them down. Bringing her eye, to… cock. And what an impressive cock it was. Thick, hard, rampant and ready. “Haven’t you heard, I’m the Beast of Gloomenthrall.”
“And I’m your prey?”
Alia just managed to swallow the words that rose unbidden in response – no, you’re my mate. Gods, where had that thought come from? Ninny, he’s waiting for a reply. Words, put some words together into a sentence. Or, perhaps what was really called for here was action… or more importantly, distraction.
Leaning forward she licked his heated flesh from root to tip before swirling her tongue around the head of his cock. Her name falling from Talac’s lips in a whispered groan was heady stuff. But Alia was just getting started. Suckling on the head now before sliding half his length into her mouth. Repeating the action a few more times, before letting him go, leaning back, casting a wicked smile up at him.
“Alia.” Her name on his lips was part protest, part promise. “I agree you’ve primed your trap with some very good bait. But I’m not some simpleton to be led about by my cock.”
“Oh, I haven’t even added the bait to the trap yet.” Gracefully Alia rose to her feet, giving him a stern look as he reached for her. “A-ahuh. You stay right there… if you can.” Taunting, as she backed towards the bed, proceeding to make herself comfortable upon it. Talac arching an eyebrow upwards in a wry impatient gesture. In response, Alia slowly pushed her hair out of the way. Making sure the candle light from the lanterns situated upon the mantel piece spot lit her full breasts, before slowly, deliberately, spreading her legs. Trailing one hand slowly down over her throat, tweaking a nipple before travelling down even further. Over her rib cage, her tummy and then lower still. Parting the lips of her apex core, she circled her clit with a dexterous finger. Her lower body clenching in response.
Alia was no stranger to self fulfillment. When you’re the boss, and more importantly, a woman, you had to be very careful who you allowed bed privileges. Therefore, she was incredibly picky when it came to choosing lovers. Yet there was something about having Talac watch her touch herself that made the act so much hotter, so much more exciting. The way his gaze locked on her so intently. Gritting his teeth. Corded muscles in his chest bunching and unbunching, as if he were tugging on invisible chains.
“Don’t move.” She reminded sternly. Watching as he slowly lifted one leg, yanking off a boot, all the time his gaze never wavering from Alia. Then the second boot was dropped to the floor. Followed soon after by his trousers. Oh, my, the sight of him naked, ready, rampant, only a few feet away, it made Alia’s breasts ache and her apex grow slicker… needier.
The decidedly evil smile lighting up Talac’s face only fanned the heat within Alia. She began to circle her clit a little faster.
“If you get to make one rule. Then it’s only fair that I get to make one too. Don’t cum.”
She was so close. But fair was fair… reluctantly Alia ceased touching herself. Hah, he thought he’d won, she could tell by the arrogant smile twisting up the edges of his lips. They were locked in a battle. He wasn’t allowed to move. She wasn’t allowed to finish. Last time they’d challenged one another it had been with swords, and it had taken ages before they ceded that they were evenly matched.
Of course, in the challenge ring it was important to adhere closely to the rules… in the bedroom, all bets were off. Alia lifting the hand she’d been touching herself with slowly to her lips, dipping first one finger into her mouth and sucking upon it, then the next finger.
In the blink of an eye Talac was covering her with his body, a rough growl of need escaping him, a corresponding shiver zipping down Alia’s spine. His lips were everywhere. Her breasts. Her throat. “So damned beautiful.” Finally, his mouth was on hers, devouring her. “You taste like mead served at the table of the Gods.”
Heavens, Alia liked the way Talac’s work calloused hands grappled at her a little roughly, she was no delicate flower. Talac’s urgency, his need for her, the press of his cock against her leg, all ramped up Alia’s desire for him. One of his hands sweeping down her body to push her legs wider still. His thick cock settling against her apex. Mindlessly Alia rubbed herself against it. Gliding her clit up and down all that heated hardness, it felt so darn good.
“Cruddy hell.” Talac was all but panting. Lifting one of Alia’s heavy breasts so he could lave her nipple with his tongue. His other hand wrapping around her waist, pulling her in as close as possible, clearly he was liking the friction between them as much as she.
“Don’t keep me waiting.” Alia hissed out from between gritted teeth, fisting a handful of his short chestnut hair, giving it an imperious tug. Already deciding the man was taking too long, and moving to take matters into her own hands. Reaching down, grasping his cock, the heated length slick with moisture from her apex already. Which she was very appreciative of as she fitted the head of him to her entrance, his reaction to surge forward. Driving his cock deep. By the nine circles, that felt good, even better as Talac began to thrust hard and fast, the friction addictive. Alia clutching him to her even closer, urging him deeper, faster, wrapping her long legs around his hips to get an even better angle.
Damnation. If the man finished before she did, she would kill him, this was the best ride she’d ever had. Wanting it both to never stop and at the same time, the building sensations fanned an increasing needy ache deep within her. Craving completion.
She began a furtive silent prayer. With partners of the past, that release had all too often remained elusive for Alia… Talac grabbing one of her legs, hauling her foot high into the air to rest against his chest. Yes… the angle, that was so good… she was so close, clutching him tighter still, Talac growling low in the back of his throat in response. Something about that sound struck her as possessive, her entire body clenching as with his next thrust a battering ram of sensation splintered all Alia’s nerve endings. It was too much, yet the best thing she’d ever felt. Only vaguely aware of Talac releasing a hoarse exalted cry, pumping into her one last time before collapsing off to the side.
Their harsh uneven pants the only sound filling the room for a minute or so. Talac the first to recover, pulling Alia in close so her back was snug against his chest. One of his hands meandering idly up over her almost too sensitive skin, trailing fire across her thigh, hip and tummy, coming to rest across her body, his arm locking her in place against him. His fingers tracing the ridged scar decorating one shoulder.
“I’ve seen many wounds. You’re very lucky to be alive.” His words low, spoken directly into her ear.
Alia rarely talked about her scars. But here, with Talac, only the two of them, the lights low, she didn’t mind. “It was the honey in the end, that saved me. Keeping the skin together, slowing the bleeding until we could get to Gloomenthrall.”
