Capture of a Heart (9 page)

The night had started off melancholy, with him giving her gifts for a journey she was not yet ready to take. While he went to tend to the food, she had placed the items inside her pack, but even then, she wasn’t sure if her trip would begin the next day or days after.

To assuage her lack of motivation, she made a joke about never receiving a tour of his larder. At that the mood within the den changed from heavy silences to laughter and mirth. He summoned her to his side and started at the far wall, detailing the variety of components stored in bottles, jars, and pouches while the space steadily filled with the sumptuous smells of their meal. He beamed with pride as he detailed how he had procured some items from wondrous sources and chuckled as he relayed the more mundane locales that he had discovered others from.

While there were several items he skipped over and many that she was sure her memory would not easily recall, she was pleased just to see him so invigorated in the display of his collections.

Dinner cut the tour short, but the mood was still light. The leaf-wrapped fish was so juicy and yet firm, flaking into portions at the slightest brush of her fork. The wine was subtle and fragrant with mixed complements of stout oak and berries. Gavenas regaled her with his knowledge of the mountains, and she confessed the wonders that she had learned during her travels.

Late into the night they talked as if there were no concerns for the next day, but the specter of the bed and a need for slumber eventually haunted every word.

It was she who took to the pallet first at Gavenas’s insistence. He would be the one to clear the table and wash the dishes. While she tried to protest, she eventually stripped off her clothing to settle beneath the warm covers. As she watched Gavenas move about from the table to the stream that ran through the den, her emotions flared anew. The thought that every night could be spent enjoying meals, conversation, and his generous presence filled her with a covetous longing.

As he gathered the table linens into a basket and made to take them to the washing pool, Shoraya’s patience grew short. She knew procrastination when she saw it as well as recognized the return of the awkwardness between them and would allow it no longer. “Gavenas. The linens can wait. Come and rub this belly which you have so well filled.”

He turned with the basket in his hand and looked at her longingly.

She made the offer sweeter by shoving the covers off her frame and displaying her nudity.

Gavenas’s gaze drifted over the length of her frame. She could almost feel the warmth of his attention as it traveled over her from her head down to her thighs.

He set the basket down, never taking his eyes from her, and moved forward. His fingers traveled to his robes, releasing the stays, pulling back fabric, and discarding it upon the floor as he approached. He stopped just before the bed in nothing more than his inner shift, and that too he drew over his head and tossed to the floor. He climbed into the bed and then stretched out in the space she had left for him. He placed his hand on her stomach and breathed huskily, “As you command.”

Shoraya leaned into his touch, her hands traveling up the muscles of his shoulders to play in his hair. She gazed into his eyes and smiled. “You like when I command you, powerful, magnificent faeyanin?”

“I love it.”

In no doubt of his sincerity, Shoraya was struck by the curt tone and strength of his words. That the situation between them had grown so fast and so strong was a mystery for her but not one she cared to ponder the origin of, not when the fruits were there for her joy. She returned her hand to his shoulder and pressed. “If you love it when I command, then lie back.”

He hesitated for a moment but then did as she wished, exposing the length of his body for her to view and savor. His arousal was starkly evident, the rod of his passion a vibrant, ruddy shade of purple, thick, arching, and glistening at the crown. Ready.

Shoraya’s mouth watered at the sight as she slid down his body and gripped the base of his shaft. Eager for his taste, Shoraya situated herself between his thighs with insistent shoulders. While locking the fingers of her hand around the base of his cock, she leaned forward and ran her tongue along the length of him. She took her time, despite the excited pulse beneath the silken flesh. Leisurely, she traced every vein, every inch before moving up to take on the most succulent crown.

She closed her lips around the head of his shaft and swore to herself that she would never forget the saline wine as she lapped it from the root.

Gavenas squirmed, but she held his hips still as she descended. Stretching her mouth around his width was not an easy task, but she welcomed the ache in her jaws, the panic of her throat muscles all for the glory of holding his pulsating flesh so intimately.

With her nostrils full of his scent, Shoraya thought only of claims. How she wished that she could own the male beneath her, suckle him until his essence was branded upon her. She coaxed the firm, oval gems of his balls in their silken pouch with her fingers, adamant about gathering more of his seed in her belly. The shuddering motions of his body grew wilder, and she did witness some success as his cream flowed more. Yet, he was holding back from her.

Determined to have her prize, Shoraya nudged his thighs farther apart with her elbows and sucked harder.

Gavenas swore loudly, not in any language she knew. He thrust the fingers of one hand into the heavy locks of her hair and gripped tightly. He tugged firmly enough to get her attention while his other hand clapped around her shoulder and squeezed.

Caught by the intensity of his actions, she withdrew from his sex with plans for a warning and a plea.
Let me have you for this night
was what she had planned to tell him, and yet when she lifted up to address him, her hands still cupping his balls possessively, Shoraya couldn’t utter a thing.

His eyes were shimmering, alternating between the darkest green and silver with every blink of his lashes. Their appearance was almost frightening in their intensity. “Y-you. You mentioned me… I was to be able to rub your belly,” he ground out, voice as gruff as a thundercloud.

Shoraya would have laughed if he hadn’t seemed so insistent. But the seriousness of his tone reminded her that she was not dealing with a plaything to be ravished. It was out of reverence and the allure of his command that she rose over him and sat upon his hips. Taking his hand in hers, she placed his palm against her belly.

She was certain that was not all that he wanted specifically as she felt the heated bar of cock nudging her backside, and yet for a while, his gaze was set on her stomach as his large digits slowly wandered the landscape of her skin.

Not immune to his touch and aroused since the moment she had called him to bed, Shoraya closed her eyes and enjoyed the gentlest of massages, all the while growing wetter.

When his hands began a detour to her breasts, up and over the swells to cup them in his palms, she began to debate her role as coveter.

It was all very easy, how he carefully pulled her down over him, how his lips touched the space between her breasts. He was seeking a claim of his own, she was certain of it, even before he closed his lips over one of her nipples. His lips stimulated her, directly to the core, with every tug, nip, and pull. His other hand, which had been so preoccupied with the breast he wasn’t suckling, proved his intent as he lowered back to her belly and down in between her thighs.

He pressed the flat of his palm over the sodden mound of her sex, possessively cupping her as he ground the heel of his hand against her flesh. Shoraya shuddered. She was uncertain of which was hotter—the span between her legs or the inferno of his touch. As he pushed two fingers under the hood of her mound and onto the bud of her clitoris, it was Shoraya’s turn to shudder.

Turnabout came bittersweet and maddening as he started to stoke her sex. The building spark of excitement caused her to writhe as he moved the play of his tongue and teeth to her other breast.

Shoraya bore it as long as she could, hours it seemed but perhaps no more than a few minutes before it was her turn to insist. Shifting her hips backward and pulling away from him, she once more sat astride him.

The look of loss and anguish upon his features seemed almost resentful. Still the pouting of flushed pink lips being moistened by his tongue gave her the gravity of the situation.

He rose up on his elbows and attempted to reach out for her. Instead she clasped his cheeks and leaned in to kiss those beautiful lips that had given her so much pleasure.

Although it may not have been voiced, the desperation in their need for one another was outlined in the ferocity of their kiss. Shoraya didn’t care for breathing, her mind solely on mapping every contour of Gavenas’s mouth and futile attempts at claiming his tongue for her prize. Futile because he seemed to be striving for the same goals.

When she pulled away, more of a physical need for air and clarity than intent, she placed her cheek against his. It took several long moments for her to catch her breath enough for her to issue a demand as his hands slid over her back and down to curve around the cheeks of her ass.

He pressed a hand between their sweat-covered bodies, and Shoraya knew immediately what his goal was even before she felt his hips shifting and the broad crown of his cock being aimed between her slick folds.

She rose slightly before reaching down and helping him guide his shaft inside her waiting cavern.

As his width stretched her and his length pressed deep, she was certain she had never felt so right, so magical, as when they were joined. It didn’t matter how many times she had experienced it; each time was something bordering on magic. Her very bones resonated with joy while she felt the liquid content of her being, warm. The grandness of feeling his pulse within her body was almost frightening as she realized just how easily it would be to forgo anything and everything for her addiction to the man beneath her. Arching back, she pressed her groin hard against his, as if they could have gotten any closer.

Beneath her, his hips were tense, as if he were giving her a moment to settle. Glad for the opportunity, Shoraya made the first move, rocking upon the saddle of his body. The sensation of his cock sliding within her brought about a hunger that refused to entertain notions of freedom. Although still unnerved by her compulsion for him, Shoraya straightened, glared down into a dominating, possessive gaze. Vowing to be just as blatant, she declared, “Tonight you are mine.”

Gavenas chuckled, but it wasn’t a sound of mirth or of denial as he seized her by the hips and pumped upward.

Although she was atop him and deluded into thinking she had some control, his one movement shattered any plan she had of metering her excitement.

“Any night,” he said with a long exhale before taking her in his arms and claiming her body and soul.

Her mind was so disrupted by sparks, too full of euphoric voids that she couldn’t begin to comprehend his words. She had heard what he said, but deciphering the meaning was a concept far too dangerous for her to toy with. As she gave in and gave up any control she thought she had of her body, Shoraya was only certain of one thing.

If there was anyone with whom she could lose herself and be well taken care of, it was the faeyanin beneath her. Her heart ached at the choices with which it had been presented—the freedom to travel the world and discover new wonders or binding herself to a being wondrous by his very nature.

Deep down, as she clung to the man in her arms, she knew which choice was the most powerful.

Chapter Fourteen

He had been awake when she had stirred at his side and slipped away. Although she was careful about unfurling her limbs from his, Gavenas had felt the loss of warmth the second that she had decided that that morn would be the time that she would leave. He had suspected the night before, her passion for him flaring as if she wished to solidify her memory of him for the last time. He too had given much of himself that night, lying beneath her like a sapling before the titans of a mountain range. She moved over his body, intimidating him with the divinity of her curves, the beauty of her face, and the brilliance of her eyes as they scoured every inch of him.

Gavenas had felt loved, precious in the brilliance of her attention, and her departure was no easy thing to bear. Yet he kept his eyes closed as she quietly washed, got dressed, and then pulled her belongings from under the bed.

Part of him wanted to get up and help her prepare for her journey. While he had given her a few items, there was food and drink, clothing and weaponry he would have gladly showered upon her. Yet he could not move a muscle, knowing that if he were to approach her, it would affect her decision.

He was not delusional, and no matter how much he worried that her love for him was nothing compared to his feelings for her, Gavenas knew the truth. He could smell the salt of her tears in the very air within the den. Her flight wasn’t due to boredom, to lack of attraction, or even to whimsy. She was as afraid as he was. Certainly there was a war raging between her dreams and her emotions, but the need to allow her to wage that war naturally was what kept Gavenas beneath the covers and motionless.

He remained in bed, supine long after Shoraya had departed the den. In the darkness behind his eyelids, he could imagine her still there. He could see her before him, with her long braids glistening as she practiced her swordplay or writhed with passion.

Dealing with the feelings of loneliness, so foreign to him before, it took him half the day and the urge to relieve himself before he dared to contemplate opening his eyes and rising.

The den had never been so empty as when he stood and took in the sight of his living space, yet he got up from his bed.

He went to the life pool and emptied his bladder but felt no urge to bathe or prepare himself for the day. The thought of washing away her scent from his skin was inconceivable. He had no aims for foraging or going out to visit his neighbors. Hunger was not an issue for him either, but he sat down at the table nonetheless when he noted a gift laid out for him on its surface.