“They are prepared for the ceremony upstairs,” a guard
said brightly. “Glad that all is well. So, we stand at the ready to escort the
bride and groom to a much cozier stay. Our Fae hospitality is legendary.”
“That it is,” Sasha said with a smile, walking past
the guards without looking back.
“But what of the ceremony and the feast?” The second
guard glanced back at the slowly closing door.
Hunter and Silver Hawk shared a look as the outer
dungeon door slammed shut. He landed a thick hand on the confused man’s
shoulder. “Maybe in the morning. I’m sure Sir Rodney will definitely
understand.”
“If World War Three wasn’t about to go down tomorrow
night, I’d say all’s well that ends well. True love abounds in the sidhe and
several very evil Vampire viceroys had a date with the sun that they probably
deserved anyway. hey.” Sasha kept walking up the steep, winding
staircase that led to the main castle hall. Why couldn’t life just be
uncomplicated for once?
Hunter gave Sasha a sidelong glance as they reached a
landing. “Were it only that easy.”
“Yeah, I know. Who am I fooling?” Sasha released a
hard sigh and kept pushing forward. Her body was exhausted, but she knew sleep
would be impossible with all of the issues racing through her mind. “It would
have been great to see if maybe Amy could go into trance and give us any
insight as a supernatural seer, but fat chance of that happening tonight. I
can’t blame her, but damn. We’ve gotta find a way to figure out what opened
Pandora’s box with the Erinyes and how to send them back before this Vamp war
really gets further out of hand.”
“Sometimes just being still, daughter, is the hardest
thing to do. But the answer is within the stillness. We sometimes learn that in
the shadows.”
Sasha looked over her shoulder at Silver Hawk and gave
him a smile, even though what he’d said made her want to scream. Right now her
nerves couldn’t take an ancient parable. Right now her brain could not begin to
process cryptic statements. But she loved the old man way too much and
respected him far too much to respond with more than a simple nod. Still, she
was sure he knew what she’d been thinking by the sly half smile he’d
unsuccessfully tried to swallow.
“Don’t worry, Sasha,” Hunter said as they reached the
guarded door. “Grandfather makes me insane, too, when he starts talking in old
Ute riddles.”
“I will leave you,” Silver Hawk replied, unfazed. “Get
some rest. Tomorrow will be eventful. I feel it in my bones.”
Two guards at the top of the stairs banged on the
heavy oak door to have it unlocked from the outside and then moved to let them
pass. Another castle guard stepped forward with a huge key ring in his hand and
a question in his eyes.
“Milord. where are the betrothed?” The
guard looked first to Silver Hawk, who was the eldest in the small retinue of three.
Silver Hawk chuckled softly. “They have married
wolf-style in your dungeon, and should be allowed their privacy.”
The Fae guard frowned, clearly not understanding. “Ah,
you are a cleric amongst the wolves. A leader of your kind, then so be it. I
shall inform Sir Rodney. but he will be wondering about all the
food and drink.”
“I think Sir Rodney will be okay with just allowing
the party to go on regardless,” Sasha said with a smile. “Maybe in an hour or
two you guys can send down some grub. but I’d sorta wait until the
couple asked for it before just barging in on them, you know what I mean?”
“Indeed!” the guard replied with a bow. “We Fae do
love a festive event, and if our guests are happy we are happier.”
“I assure you,” Hunter said, giving Sasha a wink, “my
brother and his new wife are very happy.”
“Then it is settled,” the guard said, striding away.
“Fare thee well. I shall inform Sir Rodney.”
“The food and drink will not go to waste,” Sir Garth
said, coming out of nowhere and startling Sasha, Hunter, and Silver Hawk.
“Please follow me. We don’t have much time.”
Shogun’s kiss began with a gentle tasting of her
mouth, the delicate probing of his tongue. Amy could almost feel Shogun breathe
her in and allow her scent to flow over his palate before he’d swallowed it.
She’d been the one to deepen the exchange, hungrily suckling his tongue and
giving in to the insane warmth of his embrace.
His wide, hot palms splayed across her back as she
arched against him, needing every inch of her skin to come in contact with his.
Clothes were in the way. Fabric taunted her raw nerve endings; she wanted it
off of her, off of him. Yet he was still handling her as though she were a
fragile object made of glass. She could feel him holding back, keeping the wolf
within him at bay, even after knowing what she had within her.
Before she could stop herself her nails scored his
back, shredding the silk shirt the Fae had given him, drawing blood—she didn’t
have to see it; she could smell it. The pungent scent hung in the air as she
pulled back from their kiss and stared at him.
“I’m sorry,” she murmured, her voice now thick and
weighted with desire as her fingers gently played over his wounds. “I didn’t
know my hands would do that.. I. ”
Amy’s words trailed off as she stared into Shogun’s
dark brown eyes, watching them slowly become lit from within. Anticipation
swept through her, stoking her need. A split second gave way to a
lightning-fast response and her windpipe was being gently held by sharp upper
and lower canines. All she could do was breathe. The threat was implicit. The
threat was exhilarating.
Searing palms lifted her, separating the flesh of her
buttocks, straining the thin gauze gown, straining her patience, while his
powerful jaws remained locked over her trachea. Arms around the crown of his
head and the nape of his neck, she kept her eyes closed as he moved her across
the floor, still holding her tightly in an act of pure wolf possession. He had
her by the throat, had claimed her body as his territory. Short panting bursts
of breath were her agreement to submit. It all happened in the jag of fractured
seconds that awakened Were instinct within her core.
Species didn’t matter. He was male; she was female.
Her body spilled its need for him, wetting her thighs, wetting his belly as he
carried her, the scent straining his reason as he put her down hard on the
small bed and blanketed her. Trembling, she couldn’t speak as he pulled back
and stared at her, crouching above her. She studied the question in his eyes, then
answered it, tearing away the remnants of his shirt, and then traced the ridges
of his chest and his nipples, finally reaching around to gently touch where she
had raked him, only to feel the wounds already beginning to heal.
A gentle nudge with the side of his jaw pushed her to
lie back. Capturing her hands within his, he swept her knuckles with a
passionate kiss and then stared at her hands in awe.
“So delicate and yet so dangerous,” he murmured,
turning her palms over and kissing the centers of them.
She withdrew her hands from his, ashamed at how she’d
accidentally hurt him, but her protest died under the press of his lips. Colors
swirled behind her eyelids. His warmth erased all doubt as his fingers threaded
through her hair and then found the edge of her dress. But pure shock made her
eyes fly open the instant the fabric ripped.
His kiss deepened as her dress tore away from her body
in a steady drone until it was halved. She watched him as he stared down at
her, first drinking in her soul from her eyes and then giving himself
permission to take in her nudity as though devouring her.
Yearning for his touch, she arched her body up to meet
his but was rebuffed by a forceful kiss against her abdomen as he drew away.
“I’ll hurt you like this,” he murmured, and then shook
his head.
Her palm cradled his cheek. “And I will heal..
Do what you must, but never let there be others.”
“How did. ”
Amy placed a finger to Shogun’s lips. “I can see with
my third eye. I may be a virgin, but I am not blind. and whatever
Lady Jung Suk left me when her spirit fled my body, it was not naïveté.” She
allowed her gaze to linger on Shogun’s handsome face and then slowly rove down
his sinewy physique. “And I should thank her for that,” Amy whispered.
Taking Shogun’s hands within hers, Amy placed them
against her breasts and then dropped her head back with a breathy moan. The
long-awaited sensation pebbled her arms with gooseflesh and made her reach for
him, pulling at him, not sure how to stop the ache of passion within her.
An assault of textures set her skin on fire and she
cried out as his full, smooth lips brushed over her tight nipples, then torso,
followed by the trembling touch of his calloused hands. Everything he did
deepened the ache and deepened the arch in her back. The dry heat of his touch
gave way to the wet heat of his tongue as he laved her nipples, trailing kisses
beneath the petite swell of her breasts, and across her belly. New beard
shadowed his jaw and prickled her inner thighs, making her crave his mouth even
more.
Her breaths had become ragged and her hands had become
fists as his tongue sent spirals of pleasure through her until she dug the
crown of her head into the pillows. Her voice was now a cross between female
and feline, zigzagging between shrill cries of ecstasy and low, mewling purrs
of profound release. No man had ever had access to her body like this, and
certainly none of her self-pleasuring had produced climaxes as soul wrenching.
He’d opened her with his tongue, suckling her bud,
French-kissing her swollen lips, now his finger played at the sensitive opening
of her flower. It was too much to bear. She had to get away from him just to
catch her breath.
In one lithe move, she slipped from his grasp, closed
her legs, and balled herself up tightly at the top of the bed, panting. When
she opened her eyes, his golden stare hunted her. He said nothing, just slowly
wiped the slickness from his mouth with the back of his hand, breathing her in.
It was such a sensual act that it sent a tremor of renewed heat through her.
She watched his nostrils flare, watched the slow blink of his eyes, and then
she quietly uncurled herself and moved onto her hands and knees before him.
“I wanted this to be different for you,” he said in a
deep murmur, then closed his eyes and turned his face away. “Special.
not here but in a beautiful suite. after a ceremony that would
honor both you and your parents.”
“I am with you and that makes it special. I am yours
alone, and that makes it beautiful. That you risked your life for me not long
ago is the greatest honor you could have given me and my parents.”
She saw his breath hitch and something feral within
her snapped. Seconds stretched as she lunged forward, pounced, and flipped him
onto his back. It was his turn to have his throat in her jaws while she
hurriedly ripped away the heavy fabric of his pants and spent buttons. He
didn’t struggle, simply breathed, waiting for her to pull back and release his
windpipe. She looked down at him, knowing half of his legs were still trapped
by his pants. A single tear slid down his cheek. Her hand went over his heart
and it felt like it was beating a path out of his chest. He bit his lower lip
as he stared into her eyes. She understood agony. He’d just taught her the
definition.
Straddling him slowly, she felt for his member, not
taking her eyes away from his. Vein-corded heat filled her hand; his gasp as
she touched him made her briefly close her eyes. By blind touch she studied the
pattern of what would soon enter her. Each palm stroke along his wet,
need-slicked length helped her memorize it, stopped his breath, and caused her
opening to contract. Her fingers slid over the groove of the bulbous head, and
she wondered how the two organs would fit, the disparity was so great, but desire
won out.
Instinct told her she needed his girth to staunch the
ache. Lowering herself down, she fit him against the entrance of her flower and
then took a deep breath.
He quickly held her arms. “Not all at once,” he said,
breathing hard. “You’ll tear and I’ll lose control like that..
There’s another way. You must let me guide you and move slowly.”
“You’ll lose control?” she murmured in a husky
whisper.
He nodded, trying to shift her off him to change
positions, but she shook her head and let him know just how strong she really
was.
“Then lose control, Husband,” she said quietly,
staring at him, and suddenly sat down hard to fully take him in.
His wail of pleasure drowned out her wail of pain. He
arched hard as though an electric current had shot through his body, and she
moved against him with frenzied purpose. In a hard roll they were on the floor.
In seconds he’d kicked out of his pants and pulled her beneath him. Her hair
was in his fist and his kiss swallowed her cries. Her punches against his sides
and back to get him to stop thrusting slowly converted to a grasping hold as
her legs anchored around his waist.
Pleasure melted away pain. The burning at her rim
quieted as the deep ache within her canal ripened, then blossomed on her
throaty moan. His hand slid beneath her waist and his angle shifted. Her eyes
crossed beneath her lids as he found a sweet spot deep within her.