Capture of a Heart (6 page)

He cared not for time or for the quaking tension of her thighs clamping down on his shoulders, certainly not once he’d hefted the bowl of her hips high enough for him to thrust his tongue into the welcoming inferno of her opening. It was where he longed to be, where he needed to be.

Envious, his cock ached at the heat and clenching tightness that his tongue could only sample. To be enveloped in such warmth seemed too threatening, like so much oblivion to be fearful of. And yet Gavenas was certain he needed to have her.

He dared to pull one hand free, reaching down to stroke the length of his twitching, hard shaft through the fabric of his robe. The gesture was meant to be a placating one, a warning to his flesh that relief would come, even if not soon. But the firm pressure of his hand only served to enflame his arousal all the more.

He groaned against her sex, a sound deep and reverberating with need, and the ensuing vibrations must have triggered something in Shoraya as well. Moaning aloud, she keened above him, her hips jerking fitfully in response.

Gavenas swiftly returned his wandering hands back beneath her ass, needing to grip her bucking form for fear he would lose contact. He pressed his tongue as deep as he could within her. As she came apart, he found her taste stronger, headier for the orgasm racking her form.

There was no magic like that of loving, he felt. Certainly none stronger, he was certain. His thoughts filled with images of volcanoes, of diamonds being born within the depths of mountains and great mystical dragons emerging from peaks thousands of feet in the sky… He could not only see such grand sights, Gavenas could swear that his blood was infused with the wonders of the peaks. Such was the essence of the woman he suckled from, and he could not get enough.

She came four times more before Gavenas felt her strength truly begin to ebb. She was clutching at his shoulder with one hand while the fingers of her other were woven into the damp strands at the top of his head.

Somehow, through his addled brain, he heard calls, weak and whispered pleas of a need that might have mirrored his own if he had not been so selfish.

“Gavenas…please. Please…” Shoraya’s voice was faint, enough for him to worry. Had he pushed her too far? Had he caused her some injury? He lifted his head from between her thighs and spied her gazing down at him through hooded eyes, her brow covered in sweat. Her lips were trembling flushed berries, but she was smiling weakly at him.

Although Shoraya was the very portrait of glowing exhaustion, he noted she had hiked her gown upward and was cupping the burgeoning fruit of her naked breasts in her palms. “I am hungry too,” she said.

He had not had his fill but was sated enough for reason to appeal to him as he leaned back on his haunches. “Forgive me.”

She chuckled before attempting to reach out for him. “No apologies. Just…I want to feel you inside of me. I want you in my arms, within me.”

The words sank deep even as his cock throbbed excitedly at the notion. He rose to his knees awkwardly. Gazing down at the woman before him, Gavenas marveled at how swiftly his mood went from that of a giant, invincible and powerful, to that of a green sapling fearful of a torrential rainfall. He grasped the sides of his robe and lifted the fabric high, but it was with trembling fingers that he tossed his garment aside. Presenting himself nude before her, he had to straighten his posture to appear somewhat confident under the scrutiny of her gaze, which seemed to have stolen all his former dominance. “I am afraid. I will not last long, Shoraya. You have very nearly undone me already.”

Her gaze drifted over him, lingering at his slick, jutting sex. She opened her arms to him. “Then hurry,” was her command.

Obediently, he leaned forward. As he helped her out of her gown, he attempted to buy himself time to calm the panicked beating of his heart, to slow the staggering flow of his pulse by some measure, and yet as he lay partially atop her, the heat of her skin, brief glimpses of their contrasting skin tones—ivory against red-hued brown—taunted him further. Just feeling his naked cock against her thigh caused his balls to ache with the need for release.

Gavenas leaned his head against her chest, distracted and praying for a moment more of gluttony. He sought out her breast, attempted to get his lips upon the hardened peak of a nipple, but her fingers tugging upon his locks prevented him from his intent.

She slid her other hand over his back and grabbed his ass, squeezing firmly. “Gavenas. If you continue to toy with me, you— No, you
will
be punished. Faeyanin or no. The second you spend yourself within me, and you will, I will suck you until the very idea of walking causes you to faint.”

Gavenas understood her words, and despite the threat of embarrassment that he felt sure would come, he moved to cover her lips with his own and to do her bidding. As his tongue slid against hers, he wedged a hand between them and gripped his cock, guiding it between her silken folds where it so longed to be.

His kiss was a wild, desperate thing made all the more crazed as he was engulfed by her soft yet steel walls. He was no virgin, but within Shoraya’s body, he might as well have been. Unable to recall when he had ever experienced an embrace so hot, so wet, and so tight, Gavenas was sure that every nerve in his body had lit up. So this is what it must feel like to stand against a dragon’s flame, was his only thought as he lost all control of his body.

Somewhere in the back of his mind and surely in the countless daydreams he had nurtured imagining his first time with her, Gavenas had considered slow, masterful lovemaking.

His body, however, would allow nothing leisurely as he began to thrust hard, deep and greedily. That she rose to meet every downward press with her own upward push only brought him closer to unraveling.

He lasted longer than he’d thought he might but nowhere near as long as he wished, and yet there was no shame to be had in that glorious moment when he finally broke, exploding with jet after jet of his essence as she too cried his name in completion.

Long moments after both of them had managed to achieve some normalcy of pulse, Gavenas was shocked to discover that she had meant every word of her former threat, despite his insistence that they actually needed to address their forgotten dinner.

Meat and vegetables would suffice for breakfast or a late lunch, he resolved, as all thoughts of leaving the bed, of standing, dissolved with the press of her kiss upon his belly.

Chapter Nine

Shoraya had never been the type to enjoy lingering in bed, but then she had never had such a good reason to. Gavenas woke first but left the comfort of her side only long enough to reheat the meal from the night before and to bring it to the bedside. She ate her breakfast from his fingers and he from hers along with a few sips of wine before the ease between them gave way to yet another round of lovemaking.

Leaving the comfort of the bed didn’t seem to occur to either of them as noon came and went. Even then, it was not a decision made by her. It was the howling calls of canines that stirred Gavenas from her hold and caused him to groan.

She freed him to his summons, watching him take to the indoor spring for a swift cloth bath before donning his robes. He explained before leaving that he would not be long and that they only sought a mediator for a pack dispute. He even bade her rest and await his return, but no sooner had he passed through the curtain of the tent than Shoraya was gently easing out of bed.

Although her limbs felt like heavy logs, she pushed through her exhaustion to clean herself and tidy the den. All the while, she mused on her situation. Being with Gavenas was so easy, felt so right, despite his effortless shifts from careful submissive to hungry dominant. Shoraya tried to remind herself that she was a guest—an indebted one at that—but touching his things, organizing the stones that still remained near the hearth where she had left them, was a comfort, not unlike blade dancing. Clearing the table and washing the plates and utensils, even folding blankets, eased almost every worry about propriety that emerged within her.

Almost.

She had never really cared for domestic chores, and that she so readily wanted to make the den nice for Gavenas’s return worried her. Her life was that of the traveler, the journey of the student. Learning from nature and perfecting the art of the blades was her passion, or so she had been so certain. It was with that question that she sought underneath the pallet and withdrew her sheathed blades.

She sat down and placed them across her lap. Aurra and Belon. She admired her swords’ lengths and their weight, the designs of dragons and the caricatures of mountain ranges coiling around the sheaths and the leather wrapped around the handles. She pulled one blade, Aurra, the lighter of the blades, partly out of its protective covering to view the glint of its steel. She sighed at the shimmering sight of the metal: sure, sharp, and as dependable as the mountain vein that it was mined from. With steel there were no doubts and certainly no worries. There could not be. The very basics of the sword required a clear head and surety, two things that Shoraya found herself deeply in need of.

She replaced the blade in its holster and brought them both with her out of the den. Although the high sun had issue piercing the thick overhead canopy of the forest, there was still plenty of illumination for her to see the path of the spring flowing outside of Gavenas’s home. She followed it, led by the sound of flowing water, to the shores of a serene, broad lake with blue-green waters. There was a small family of water voles on the far edge and several birds taking drinks and swimming upon the surface but none of the bigger predators that she knew a forest could contain, at least none that she could see. She considered the noises made by insects and amphibians around the lake, loud yet harmonious enough for her to draw inspiration from. She committed to her decision then.

The lakeside would be the perfect place for her to return to her studies.

Shoraya drew her blades free of their sheaths and stretched her arms out long and wide to remind her muscles of the metals’ weights. She held them out for a count of ten breaths, then back and behind her with her shoulder blades pressed together. Running through a series of stamina poses, she felt the trembling of her frame from the lack of exercise but did not allow it to discourage her. Strength would eventually return, but only with practice. Calm, however, returned more quickly.

After her stretches came her forms. The whirlwind was first, a forward twirling of the blades that required precision movements of the wrists and steady arms. She slipped up several times, ruining the fluid swirling arcs, but remained resolved to complete a count of twenty at least.

By the time that she attained her goal, she was pouring with sweat and aching, but she felt good. Exhilarated with her final success, she immediately went into the “basilisk’s strike” form, one of the styles that required quick leg movements and targeted thrusts with the added intimidation of being able to toss her swords between opposing hands in between movements.

She managed several minutes of the practice, taking out imaginary opponents by sheer will and adrenaline alone, but one advantageous step forward caused her to falter, sending one of her blades from her grasp to clatter upon the rocks before her.

Panting heavily, she paused to gaze at the sword some ten feet away. She needed to catch her breath, grab a drink of water…collapse.

“You should take care not to tire yourself out.”

Shoraya spun back to gaze over her shoulder and discovered Gavenas leaning on the trunk of a tree with his arms crossed. How long had he been watching her? She didn’t know, but his presence was like receiving her own personal ray of sunshine, warm and nourishing.

She shook her head, trying to pretend as if she wasn’t ready to fall to her knees from exhaustion. Starting off to retrieve her fallen blade, she muttered, “Why? Planning on ravishing me again tonight, huh?”

“I think you gave as good as you received if I did good.”

She walked over to her sword and crouched down on wobbly legs. Shoraya grasped hold of the blade’s handle. She fully intended on rising but wasn’t surprised when her ass met with the pebbly ground. “You did. Very.”

Gravel shifting under boot-covered feet announced Gavenas’s approach before her. He withdrew a leather drinking skin from one of the many folds of his robe and offered it to her. “Taking a break?”

“Yeah. I think I should.” Grateful for the offering, she took the pouch and pulled the cork from it. By scent alone she could tell that it was no ordinary lake water but the enchanted, filtered stuff that he kept around the den. The liquid was both refreshing to the tongue and to the body as she drank heartily, easily finishing off half the contents of the skin.

She felt his fingers in her hair, twirling an unruly, loose curl, and turned to find him wincing. Imagining the tangled, wooly mess of tresses that were usually kept twisted as plaits and neatly bound, Shoraya shrugged. The very idea of working with her hair was an impossibility with how she felt. “What? Oh, you want to help me with this mess you made?” She didn’t think he would be up to the task.

Gavenas, however, reached out a hand with fingers splayed wide. A boulder rose up into the air from some thirty feet away and drifted toward her to settle in just behind her back. Ruffling his robe as if he hadn’t just performed a wondrous act, Gavenas sat down, straddling Shoraya’s back with his knees.

“Would you mind? It is the least I can do.”

That Gavenas used magic as casually as she could draw her blades brought a grin to her face. “No. Please help.”

He hummed an acceptance, even as he set to work releasing what few stays and metal clasps there were remaining in her tresses.

Shoraya placed her swords down to the side and relaxed against his thighs. Although at first she couldn’t help wondering if her unkempt tresses were unattractive to Gavenas, she soon realized that his offer was just as much for his pleasure as it was for her grooming.

She leaned her head back as he carefully began to unravel the coils and twists of her thick hair. His fingers were nimble and the pressure behind them was gentle, despite the curls and knots she knew he was encountering. “You have done so much for me, Gavenas. I am in your debt.”