Dark Throne, The (6 page)

Her gaze fluttered from his ear to what now seemed to be an
odd shade of skin and her memory once again recalled those
eyes
. Inhuman eyes. Animal
eyes.

A
grunt escaped her as she curled on to her side and almost fell on
to her knees
. She crawled
towards him, coming to a halt as she neared him and knelt on aching
knees to study him more. Her fingers trembled as she reached out
and brushed her hand against the knobby curve. His ear was almost
as long as his face. Thin, but pointed on the upper curve and also
at the lobe- there wasn't a soft, fleshy pad, but another long
spindle. The 'lobe' was decorated with a silver tube. Almost like
an elongated ear cuff. The silver was engraved with black shapes,
that looked to be letters, but she couldn't make them out, they
were apart of no language she'd ever seen. Almost like a mixture of
Mandarin and Arabic.

The upper curve was just as spindly but free from
adornments and she brushed her finger along the
length
. Her hand swept up so
that her fingers could brush her own ear and it felt the same. It
wasn't cartilage, like the rest of a human's ear. It was bone. As
was this man's.

She compared her own flesh, which was by no means golden,
but almost lily white
. Kevin,
during one of his phases, had likened it to the glowing moon. She'd
rolled her eyes at the description, but had felt more discomforted
than anything else. Her skin did glow. But she'd always put it down
to the fact that her beauty regime was top notch- not a day went by
where she didn't apply olive oil to her skin in the
shower.

And her own eyes weren't as oddly hued as this man's, but
another boyfriend had jokingly told her that she had the eyes of a
husky
. Piercing blue. Blended
with an almost silvery-white.

The hair on the back of her neck stood on end and she
shivered
. The fine quiver
raced along her nerve endings so that every part of her felt as
though an electric current had brushed it.

"Calm down, Heather
.
You're just freaking yourself out.”

The words didn't help, she felt more freaked out than
ever
. She reached out again,
her fingers running along the length of the silver cuff-tube and
then curling over the long, thin hearing organ. Almost like it
called to her, they were drawn to the upper spindle. Even though
her mind registered the fact it would likely wake him, she let the
digits have their way as they rubbed and gently caressed the odd
bone.

He groaned and rather than make her fingers still, she
licked her lips
. She didn't
understand, felt confused more than anything else, when her heart
began to pound and a slight flush overtook her, until every part of
her felt a little damp. Including her pussy.

The thought had her freezing for a second, but the man's
body seemed to writhe on the floor at her touch
. She'd never seen anything like it and her eyes
were fascinated as they ran down the length of his frame. It was
incredible that she only just realized he was wearing a full suit
of armor. Of the medieval variety. But even that didn't have her
stopping, especially not when she noticed the area she'd just
congratulated herself over hurting, was stiffening. His groin was
covered in a thick leather, something she knew after grabbing his
cock and squeezing it as though it were an orange in need of
juicing. Only that part of him, and obviously for bathroom breaks,
wasn't covered by cold steel.

Saliva suddenly drowned her mouth and she swallowed noisily
as her eyes took in an erection to end all erections, which didn't
seem to stop growing
. The
thick leather had already tented until she felt sure the material
would start to creak as the seams protested such pressure. And
still it seemed to appear. Eight, nine, ten. . . . inches. How the
hell would he get all of that in her?

She froze in her tracks
.
Her?
Was that some kind of Freudian slip?
Because surely, she'd meant how would he get that monster inside
any woman's body?

Freudian or no, her pussy seemed to weep out a call of its
own with the amount of juices with which her panties were suddenly
dampened
.

The fingers of her other hand tingled with the need to
touch herself
. To rub her clit
and cum as she watched this man grow all the more aroused at a
simple touch to the ear, but something inside her urged restraint
and even though it was one of the hardest things she'd ever done,
Heather managed to stop.

She retracted her fingers and rested her hand on her
knee
. She had to imagine that
it was glued there, because it wanted to snap back to his ear to
see if she could make that whopper grow anymore. It had to be at
least twelve inches and wide with it. Christ, if they ever did have
sex, he'd probably split her in two.

Heather cringed more at the idea of wanting to have sex
with a maniac simply because his cock was the largest one she'd
ever seen, than she did at being split in half
. Hell, what a way to go. Her virgin pussy
concurred as it seemed to ripple with a sensation that had
Heather's eyes fluttering.

"Don't stop
.” The
voice appeared out of nowhere and her gaze snapped to the strange
man's. Those animal eyes were dazed, but they shone with an emotion
that left her flushed. Realizing how stupid she'd been, and too
late, Heather scrambled backwards and grimaced as she backed into
the stove.

As the stove's handle dug into her ribs, she gritted out,
"Who are you
? What are you?
And why are you here?"

One of those pitch black brows arched and then dropped into
scowl as he sat upright and cupped his cock
. His lips twitched as he saw her eyes widen and her
mouth fall open in shock. "If it wasn't bad enough you bruising it,
now you've made it hungry.”

Heather glared at him
.
"Answer my questions.”

She wanted to yell at him for talking to her that way, but
how could she
? She'd
encouraged him by caressing a part of his body, when she should
have left well alone. Hell, she hadn't given him a hand job, but
the way he'd reacted, she might as well have done. How could she
ask him to refrain from such talk, when it was her fault such a
topic existed? She should never have touched him and Heather bit
her tongue in an act of self-recrimination.

"Who am I
? Fade Roban.
I'm the heir to the Dark Throne. What am I? Well, I'm the same as
you, but I doubt you even know what that is. . . ..” He paused, his
eyes running over her with a gleam that made her decidedly edgy.
"Why am I here? Ten minutes ago, my answer would have been, how the
inferno should I know? But it would seem that destiny has brought
me to this place. . . . Destiny in the guise of a meddling mother.”
When she frowned at him, he clarified, "Yours.”

Feeling her skin blanch, Heather sucked in a sharp
breath
. "My mother died nearly
two decades ago. She ceased to
meddle
as you so
charmingly phrase it, the day a truck slammed into my parents' car
on the freeway. I wish they
could
meddle in my
life.”

"You might live to regret uttering those words,
wench
.” He held up a piece of
parchment, something she only just realized he'd been holding as
he'd crumpled to the ground after her attack. "According to this,
Setta is alive and well and meddling.” He groaned suddenly and sank
back down to the floor. Using his forearm to cover his eyes, he
sank into silence.

Heather frowned and clambered back on to her
knees
. She crept forwards
again and gently placed a hand on his arm. "Is something wrong,
F-Fade?" Her tongue trembled over the name. She knew it from
somewhere. The only question was where? Had she hurt him more than
she'd imagined? She bit her lip at the thought, after all he had
been attacking her. . . . Should she care so much that he was in
pain?

She felt transfixed as his lips suddenly started to twitch
and work as though he was gritting them to get through the
pain
. Her mind's eye easily
saw them kissing her own. . . . and other, more intimate areas. Her
thoughts shocked her. Where the image came from, Heather didn't
know, but now it was there, she couldn't stop it. The image
flowered and blossomed until she saw the pair of them on a divan.
She, with her legs spread wide, as Fade plowed between them. That
huge cock pumping in and out of a pussy that could only belong to
him.

He groaned again and the sound broke her free from her
thoughts
. Fade shoved his
arm
and hers
away from him. "Stop thinking that.
How is my cock supposed to soften if you're thinking of me kissing
or fucking your pussy.”

Heat flooded Heather's cheeks, but she poked her nose in
the air and said, "I was thinking no such thing
. You, sir, have a vivid imagination.”

He grinned, those thin yet fleshy lips stretching in a way
that had butterflies twittering around her belly
. "No, Heather of Jender, that is you. A vivid
imagination is a good thing, I can assure you. But not when I can
see every image you transmit and not when my cock is paining both
from your physical assault and the other attack on my
ear.”

Her throat closed at his words and the only thing she could
think to say, the only thing she could choke out, was, "My surname
isn't Jender
.”

"You have no surname
.
You are a female princess. You are merely Heather of
Jender.”

"A princess
? Me?"
Heather's words were swallowed by a choking laugh. "This is hardly
Buckingham Palace, Fade whoever-the-hell-you-are.”

"No, it certainly isn't
.” His eyes swept around the kitchen with obvious
disapproval. "It is below the standard to which any Royal should
inhabit, but it is filled with odd technologies, which I must
admit, appear intriguing.”

"This is my house, you bastard
. I'm happy here and I love it. By comparing it to
Buckingham Palace, I must have inferred that I wanted to live
there. Well, I don't. Give me my crappy condo over that pile any
day of the week.”

Fade grinned
. "I have
no idea of what this Buckingham Palace is. But let me assure you,
any Royal palace on Mearth, is akin to accommodation on
Heathen.”

"Heathen
? What is
Heathen? And hang on a minute, Mearth? What the hell is that? This
is
Earth,
buddy. God, you really are insane, aren't
you?"

He studied her curiously and when he replied, ignored half
of her statement and concentrated on her first
questions
. "Our afterlife, of
course. You are named for it.
Heather
. . .
.”

Before he could continue with his answer, she shook her
head in immediate rejection
.
Her hair flicked her cheeks and the small whip marks burnt as she
spat out, "It means nothing of the sort. It is a type of flower
that can be found in Scotland.”

"I know not of this Scotland
. Heather refers to those creature who live in Heathen. It
is a precious name and suits you.”

His arrogant remark had her flushing
again
. She wasn't sure if it
was nerves this time or anger. "Why aren't you angry with me?" she
asked, choosing a less volatile subject. Everything he said left
her more confused and wanting to ask more questions. His replies
tired her in a way she didn't understand. She possessed an
above-average intelligence. Nothing had ever been above her
understanding and yet now. . . . she felt dazed. Slightly
dim.

And that, pissed her off more than
anything
.

Questions flooded her brain and she wasn't sure the answers
would in
any way calm her
down.

Where was this Mearth?

He said her mother still lived
. . . . was he simply being cruel?

And he had stated that he could
see
the things
she imagined. Was that even possible?

Who was the crazy one here
? Him or her?

"Angry for treating my cock as though it were dough in need
of a good kneading?" He snorted and noticed the jolt his words had
caused
. At the center of his
focus, she felt like hiding, but couldn't. Those eyes ensnared hers
and there was not one ounce of insanity there. They were as sharp,
as clear, as lucid as raptors. He wasn't crazy. And that scared her
more than anything, because it meant she had to be, didn't it? His
lips twitched again, and he continued, "I'll take my revenge on
you- in ways that will have you screaming. . . .
with pleasure
.”

He added that amendment, when she paled
.

Heather's mouth tightened
. "You won't touch me. I don't even know you.”