With the tip of her tongue, she licked his lips, then the lobe of his ear. Her insides twisted and ached, wanting his cock. And still she managed to resist. Lower and lower, she teased his flesh with her tongue. Tasting the salt of his skin increased her hunger for the man. She nipped each nipple with her teeth and heard his ardent moan. It made her smile to know she wielded such power over this man, her man. She continued to taste him as she slid from his lap and lowered to her knees.
Looking up at him, she was pleased to see the raw, sexual hunger strain his features. He wanted her as much as she wanted him. Desire fueled her, but determination to stick to her plan controlled her efforts. Slow and deliberate, she licked his cock from the base to the tip. With a flick of her tongue to the slender slit, she stood in one rapid movement and captured his face in her hands.
His eyes sprang open wide, gifting her with the sexiest blue gaze she’d ever seen. He wanted her. But he couldn’t have her, she decided. Not until he admitted the truth. Deveney steeled her resolve and forced her libido to back down. She controlled the magic, not the other way around. It no longer controlled her.
Leaning in close, she kissed his lips, releasing a small taste of her passion in the connection. The feel of his hands cupping her rear nearly crumbled her determination, but she overcame the momentary weakness.
She broke from their kiss, leaned close to his ear then whispered, “I love you, Tor. I have no intention of leaving. And though I love the taste of your cock and the feel of it inside me,” she rimmed his ear with her tongue, then stepped out of his reach in one swift backward move, “we can’t do this.”
The sight of his face dropping and dismay filling his eyes spurred her on. “I think I remember you saying we couldn’t be together.”
She turned on her heels and forced her legs to function, putting space between them. In as nonchalant a manner as she could muster, she called out without looking at him, “Those were your words. We can’t be together, so we’re not.”
She stopped for a split second and shot him a look that she hoped speared him in the heart as she added, “Not unless you admit I’m your mate. You’re not going to fuck me again.”
As fast as she could force her legs to carry her without all-out running, she hurried into the kitchen.
Tor couldn’t move. He just sat and watched her walk away. His cock throbbed with need as his original words were thrown back in his face. Yes, he’d said they couldn’t be together. But that was before he realized the truth. Shaking his head, he couldn’t believe she’d teased him, kissed him with such passion then left him hard and hungry for her.
By the Goddess Nirvana, this woman tried to kill him. Tor stood. His cock jutted straight from his body. Somehow she managed to resist the pull of the mating magic when he’d easily succumbed, repeatedly.
Weakling.
He growled between clenched teeth. He was the man-bear and supposed to be the stronger of the two. Watching the door close behind her, he released a heated snort. How dare she try to control him with sex?
She showed a greater inner strength than he. If not, he’d be buried in her heat, fucking her hard until she screamed his name right now. Instead, he stood with a painful hard-on while Deveney simply walked away. Both hands fisted at his sides. Confusion riddled him. An anguished growl passed his lips as he attempted to sort through his sex-fogged thoughts.
Tor turned and headed for the secret entrance to the palace. He had no intention of walking the halls naked and in this condition. When he reached the hidden door, he pressed the sensor with his palm and it opened. Inside, he picked up his robe and slid it on. He groaned, looking down. The front tented and no matter how he tried, his need couldn’t be dismissed from view.
He growled low and long as he stomped to his office. He had work to do and if anyone even mentioned his condition, he’d kill them. At his office door, he lingered, staring up the stairwell he knew led to his bedroom and Deveney.
His shoulders sagged and his heart ached as he opened the door to his office.
Her lingering essence coated him as if it were his warm, thick fur coat the moment he stepped inside. The image of her on his desk burned bright in his head. Tor shook his head as he closed the door behind him, walked to his desk and flopped into his chair.
Deveney was embedded deep in his heart, mind and soul. Facing down the bear in the garden proved she held no fear of him in that form. Leaving him hard and hungry for her showed she controlled the mating magic. Not he. Could he accept she was the stronger of them?
Lowering his head into his hands, he picked through the scene in the garden. He’d been in control up until she touched him. Then his brainwaves frizzled. He’d focused on her attitude and it bothered him she ruled him. Slowly the fog of desire lifted and the last sentences she spoke popped to the forefront of his thoughts. Laughing hysterically, he leaned back in his chair. He’d been so preoccupied trying to listen to her instead of jump her bones he’d missed the most important words that came out of her mouth.
Her voice resounded in his head as he played back her words. “Not unless you admit I’m your mate. You’re not going to fuck me again.”
Well if that’s all it took to land in her bed, then he was ready. Tor grinned. But he intended to make it special. A moment she’d never forget.
Chapter Twelve
Obinu’s hypersensitive tongue plucked her essence from the breeze and guided him in her direction. He trusted this reconnaissance mission to no one else. If a woman from the outside world resided in Eximius Mundus, then she belonged to him. He had his magi working on a formula he hoped would overcome the rules of the mating ritual and force this woman to become his mate.
If
she even existed. He wasn’t sure he believed the bear.
Using the outlawed drug, Turism Incense, on Sven worked brilliantly. A thin smile contorted his snake lips as he slithered through the underbrush in the tree line around the gardens of Bjorn Palace. Once uninhibited by the drug’s effects, the twin bear’s tongue freed to answer any questions he asked.
First and foremost… Was there a woman primed for mating in Bjorn Palace?
When Sven answered yes, thousands of questions clogged Obinu’s brain. For over an hour, he pried information from Sven pertaining to this so-called Earth woman named Deveney.
Deveney.
Just the sound of her name sent a chill across his scaly skin. No bear deserved a woman more than a snake and he intended to take rightful possession of her and make her his mate. If what the magi created didn’t work, then he’d definitely find another use for the woman. A use that would make the
great
Tor Artur suffer. But he needed a plan. He chose his path through the trees with care and remained hidden and out of range of any bear’s sense of smell.
Her scent coated his tongue with each flick.
Delectable
. He hissed as he wound his way closer. From underbrush to flowerbed, he slithered within eyesight. He wanted to see her. The need to place a face with the wondrous flavor he’d gathered from the air burned in his gut and made him momentarily a bit careless in his moves.
Obinu darted into the flowerbed closest to the two women and prayed the scent-masking charm kept him hidden. Peering between the flowers, he got a visual on his prey. Long, strawberry-blonde hair cascaded down her back. She wore the colors of his rival—gold. She’d look better in black. He swallowed the natural urge to hiss and stared in total silence. He did not wish to be discovered. Grave importance to his survival weighed on this solitary mission.
She definitely wasn’t of this world. Was her existence proof the Mirror of Azure truly existed? His people had heard of the mirror, but didn’t know if it was more than a mere myth or its exact location, until Sven let that slip as well. If Obinu got his way, the mirror would become property of his clan before this was over.
Angling his head just right, he got a clear view of her face. A glimpse of her eyes and he shrank deep into the flowerbed. Those eyes. His tongue flicked at a furious pace. Her eyes were the oddest shade of blue the likes of which he’d never seen. Looking at them sent a strange sensation down his spineless form. Was that a sign? Was she of magical descent? Was it even possible?
No. He shook his oval-shaped head and gathered his thoughts. There were no others greater in the magical ways as the creatures of Eximius Mundus. There was no way her eyes maintained mystical powers. They were just an alluring color, he tried to convince his curiosity. Returning to his former stance, he refused to glimpse upon those eyes again. He couldn’t be sure if they were evil or good and he was taking no chances.
In a slow perusal, his gaze lingered on her body. The woman’s breasts were round and luscious and barely hidden beneath the taut fabric of her robe. As in most Morphionian women’s styled robes, the front sported a deep-vee shape for easy access to her attributes.
Ah, how he loved a woman’s breasts.
The faint tremble of the ground set him on full alert. In an instant, he recoiled into the flowerbed and prayed the scent-masking charm around his neck worked. Tor approached. Slow and steady, he retreated without losing sight of his adversary. Though cut short, he considered the mission a success. It validated Sven’s information.
A woman ripe and ready for the taking lived within the bear palace walls and he intended to have her. Deveney belonged to him as far as he was concerned. And no magical mating ritual was going to stand in his way. But if it did, he had an alternate use for her. Find out if she traveled through the mirror and then steal that from the bear as well.
* * * * *
Sven tapped on Tor’s door. The sound echoed in his head and increased the booming throb. Remnants of drugged wine coated his tongue and dried his mouth. Each intake of air caused his nasal passages to burn from Obinu’s use of Turism Incense to extract the truth. He’d done some stupid things before but this topped them all. He let a snake outsmart him.
“Enter!”
Sven squinted against the bellowing of his brother’s command.
He opened the door, stepped inside and closed it. Tor sat behind his desk bent over a stack of
tabellaes
. From his body stance, Sven sensed discomfort and anger.
Great.
He sighed. The topic of his discussion would add more problems to the pile already on his brother’s shoulders. Sven wished there was some other way to handle this, but Tor needed to be made aware of Obinu’s suspicious actions. From the information he gathered earlier, Obinu wanted something the Bear clan owned.
By the Goddess Nirvana
,
Sven issued a silent prayer and hoped he was wrong. For the first time in his history of goof-ups, his mistake directly affected Tor. Overextended bets were easily paid from the family coffers. Drunken brawls broken up by his older brother had prevented Sven from severe beatings. A heavy snort left his nose on that thought. In his younger day, he figured Tor intervened so the pain they shared would be less.
Initially, jealousy of his older brother’s status led to the notion Tor protected Sven just to save himself. Sven learned years ago their father stirred trouble between them. He swallowed hard, dowsing the momentary anger that threatened to rise toward his father’s ill-conceived idea on how to create the perfect leader in Tor.
Divide the twins. Separate the weak from the strong.
That didn’t happen. Sven let a sly smile tug at the corner of his lips. The acceptance of his father’s favoritism toward Tor and the refusal to let it bother him ticked the old man off more than anything else.
Sven stopped in his tracks as the thought hit him hard. All his life he’d been an irresponsible cuss, while the brunt of his actions fell on Tor’s shoulders. He stared at Tor who sat bent over his work. They were supposed to be brothers who looked out for one another. But it had always been Tor who defended him no matter what stupid stunt he pulled. What had he ever done for Tor? Nothing but cause him trouble.
Would Tor forgive him this one? This time it involved someone more important than himself. Sven took a deep breath as he issued a silent reprimand.
Time to become a man and face the faults that have been done. Time to correct what can be corrected and defend an innocent caught in the path of stupidity’s wrath.
“Tor, I need to talk to you.” Sven forced the words to exit his lips as he walked across the room and took a seat in one of the two deep-cushioned, leather chairs that sat underneath the large front window.
“What is it, brother, that can’t wait?” Tor snapped without looking up from his work. Concentration didn’t exist for work. Deveney consumed his every thought. When Sven didn’t answer, Tor forced his gaze to his brother. Something truly tortured Sven’s soul.
Tor gathered his strength, stood and prepared himself for Sven’s ridicule. Nothing slipped from his twin’s mouth. Glancing down, he knew his hardened condition couldn’t be missed and still no jest flew his way. Whatever tormented Sven had to be bad for him not to take advantage of this situation.
Tor crossed the room and took a seat beside his brother.
“I believe I may have betrayed you, my brother.” Sven stared at his folded hands in his lap.
Sven wouldn’t look at him and distress filled his tone. Tor sensed his inner turmoil and experienced a hint of the headache Sven suffered. Being this close to Sven in pain, Tor was gifted with a sample of what afflicted him. The curse of being closely connected with his twin. Pinching the bridge of his nose, Tor tried to stave off the dull thud that started behind his eyes. The sharing of each other’s pain increased with proximity to one another. The farther they were apart, the less they experienced of the actual affliction.
Sven knew this. From the look on his face, whatever he had to say was important enough for him to inflict undeserved pain on Tor. Years ago, they’d decided whenever one or the other had imbibed too much—usually Sven—they’d stay apart so both didn’t suffer. The dark circles under Sven’s eyes let Tor know his brother had not slept.
“From the looks of you and the headache we share, you were at the
cairnts
game last night.” Tor settled back in his chair. The usual possible scenarios of what troubled Sven paraded through his head. “What is the amount needed this time to cover your losses?”
“No, brother. I wish it was that simple,” Sven replied in a solemn tone. “Last night I learned the snake is up to something. Exactly what that something is, I cannot be sure. But he drugged me to gain information.”
Tor licked his lips against the sudden dryness in his mouth. The throb in his head and the nauseous swirl in his gut hinted Sven suffered from a night of too much drink. Sven shifted in his seat and finally looked Tor in the eye. Even though the whites of his blue eyes were streaked with tiny red lines of tiredness, Tor knew Sven spoke the truth. Neither lied to the other.
“Obinu used Turism Incense on me,” Sven continued before Tor could speak. “I’m not sure why he did it or what he was after. I spent most of the morning trying to remember what he asked while I was under the drug. Been picking out bits and pieces from my jumbled thoughts. Blurred images. Slurred words. It’s not been easy deciphering the stewed situation in my head. But I can’t shake this feeling in my gut it has to do with you.”
When Sven gathered his head in his hands and flopped back into the chair, Tor grimaced. The pounding inside his head ricocheted from side to side. Tor dug his palms into his temples in a futile attempt to stave the mirrored agony.
“We need to think this through,” Tor said between clenched teeth. “But first we have to rid you of this pain.”
It took a great effort to shove from the chair, stand and walk to the bathroom. The more distance he placed between him and Sven, the more the pain lessened. While in the bathroom, he splashed water on his face and ran a hand through his hair. The cool sensation eased the lingering ache from his scalp. Once he gathered his calm, he returned to his desk, opened the bottom drawer and pulled out a tan leather flask, then tossed it across the room to Sven.
“Drink,” he commanded as he took a chance and returned to the chair beside Sven.
Without hesitation, Sven flipped open the end and took a deep swig. Gagging and coughing, he wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. “If that’s supposed to be
vinetta
, it’s awful. I’d fire the
vinettian
who made it.”
“It’s a potion from the healers. Some time back I had them create something to stave the pain I suffered from one of your nights out.” Tor issued him a thin smile. “It’s nasty but it works.”
Sven burped, made a face and visibly scraped his tongue against his teeth as if he attempted to rid his taste buds of the vile flavor. He tossed the flask back to Tor. “Thanks for not sharing this sooner.”
“Neither of us can function like this. You know that. What is of such importance you could not send me a
tabellae
instead of visiting me in person?”
“I needed you to understand I speak the truth and this isn’t some post-drunken claim of mine.” Sven turned and met Tor’s gaze. “I’ve let you down on many occasions due to my gambling and drinking habits. This time is different. I’ve got a sneaking suspicion the snake tricked me into revealing something—something important. I feel it. I know he played me for a stooge and I want revenge.”
When Tor started to speak, Sven held his hand up, cutting him off. “A
tabellae
from me would have prevented your suffering the pain I feel. But this conversation I felt was best not recorded for others to find. Obinu is a traitor to the laws of the clans. He used a forbidden method to extract information and this time, we have the evidence to charge him in front of the Gathering of the Clans. There were two women involved as well who will lay witness against him.”
Tor sat silent for a moment. The conviction in Sven’s tone weighed heavily on Tor’s heart. His brother believed he let Tor down. Never had he thought that of Sven. Always he’d accepted Sven’s faults and all without question or condemnation. Sven was his brother. The fun-loving half of the pair he wished he could be. No matter what damage Sven caused, Tor loved him.
“Sven, I have to admit there have been times where your judgment has lacked. There is one thing you must know,” Tor said as he stood, then knelt in front of Sven and stared up into his bloodshot eyes. “I have always trusted and loved you, my brother.”
Before Sven reacted, Tor straightened to full height. “You were right about this discussion. It’s best kept between us until proof of any wrongdoings by Obinu can be shown. I’d love nothing more than to finally set that snake loose in Dystopia.”
Just the thought sent a chill down Tor’s spine. The
Proprius Bestia
roamed the desolate land called Dystopia. No one survived if they ever crossed the magical barrier between Eximius Mundus and Dystopia. The threat of being sent there before turning
Proprius Bestia
was usually enough to keep a Morphionian straight and the laws of Eximius Mundus in order. But Obinu thought those rules didn’t apply to him or his clan.