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He broke the kiss to stare down at her. "What did I do to deserve this? I thought I wanted solitude. I never expected to feel this way about anyone."
"I'm the one who should be asking that. After all the evil things I've done..." She shuddered, remembering her baby brother. It would take years, if ever, to work through the lingering guilt, even though her body had been the instrument, not the impetus, of the act and countless others like it. "How did I find you?"
A shadow of sympathy colored his eyes but his tone was light. "I found you, remember? The moment I merged with your aura, I was so confused by you." He shrugged. "Not anymore."
She glanced at the clock on the wall. "How long until we land in Constanta?"
"At least an hour."
A s.e.xy grin slid across her face. "Have you ever made love in a Lear jet before?"
He shook his head, his expression taking on the same s.e.xy glint. "I haven't but that couch folds out into a bed." He rolled his shoulders as if reflexively. "It's not comfortable for sleeping but we don't plan to sleep, do we?"
Once again, she stretched to kiss him, with his mouth meeting her halfway, as he lifted her into his arms.
It made her feel cherished as he cradled her against him to carry her to the sofa. There, he had to set her on her feet and they worked together to open the bed.
Atar sat down on the edge, patting the s.p.a.ce beside him but Nikia shook her head. "Sit there." She grasped the hem of her sweater, pulling it up an inch at a time, revealing the flesh underneath to his hungry eyes. As she revealed her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, sans bra because Oksana hadn't provided one, he growled low in his throat. Nikia shook her head when he tried to reach for her, moving a step backward. "Not yet."
He glanced at the clock. "We only have an hour."
She sighed, realizing her striptease would have to wait for another time. She just hoped there was another time. She unzipped the trousers and shucked them off, hearing his indrawn breath when she bent with her b.u.t.tocks pointed toward him while picking up the pants and sweater to neatly fold them over a chair.
Before she stood up completely, he was behind her, caressing the cheeks of her b.u.t.tocks. She continued to lean forward, angling her bottom toward him. She closed her eyes when his hand slipped lower, seeking out the opening of her p.u.s.s.y. She was already slick with arousal and the lightest touch of his thumb brought a renewed surge of desire. His digit found easy pa.s.sage into her opening and his index finger slipped higher, caressing her c.l.i.t as his thumb thrust in and out of her. She reared back with each movement, meeting him, stretching her p.u.s.s.y to take more. She wriggled against his hand, seeking release. Nikia fumbled a bit with her hand, sliding it between their bodies and into his trousers, to caress the smooth shaft of his primary c.o.c.k. His fluid was copious on her fingers when she rubbed the head, thumbing the bundle of nerves centered at the V.
He groaned and then said, "Let's go to the bed."
It was difficult to let him remove his hand from her weeping p.u.s.s.y and even harder to let go of his c.o.c.k so they could lie down. Atar paused to strip off his clothes while Nikia stretched out on the mattress that was as uncomfortable as he'd said. She spread her thighs, bending one of her legs to give him unrestricted access. With a lazy motion, she tweaked her nipples and licked her lips. "Are you coming?"
"Not yet but I'm close." He joined her on the bed, settling on top of her. His mouth sought out hers, as his pelvis aligned with hers. Her p.u.s.s.y cradled the head of his primary c.o.c.k and she could feel the secondary c.o.c.k nestled lengthwise between her cheeks. She arched her hips, taking him in another inch.
He moved his head to her breast, taking the nipple into his mouth and circling it with his tongue. She moaned as the tingling sensation of desire centered in her nipple, while managing to somehow still course through her body. Her p.u.s.s.y was spasming, begging to be filled and she lifted her hips higher still, until a third of his c.o.c.k was inside. "Why are you torturing me?"
He laughed around her nipple, stirring the taut bead with his breath. He let another inch of his c.o.c.k slide inside but stopped, not moving.
She tried to take more but his hand slipped between their bodies, keeping her from lifting higher. She groaned with impatience. "We only have an hour." Perhaps his own words would end his teasing thrusts and get him to bury his c.o.c.k to the hilt inside her.
His eyes locked with hers. "No, we have all the time in the world. Whatever happens, we'll face it together." Finally, he thrust deeply into her. "I'm going to love you for the rest of my life."
Moisture blurred her eyes at his words. He was making a serious commitment, vowing to love her for another six hundred years, when she would die within one hundred and fifty years. For a millisecond, she wanted to abandon s.e.x and just have him hold her.
Her body wasn't in agreement with that idea. Nikia's p.u.s.s.y hugged his c.o.c.k, convulsing around the length of him. She met each of his thrusts with her own, straining to find fulfillment at the same time as he.
Atar's hands slipped under her b.u.t.tocks, lifting her to get even deeper inside her p.u.s.s.y. She cried out at their union, finding no words to express her pleasure. She clung tightly to him as an o.r.g.a.s.m ravaged her.
The convulsions of her p.u.s.s.y milked every drop of satisfaction from Atar's c.o.c.k and their hearts pounded in unison as they lay together, basking in the afterglow. She pushed strands of hair off his forehead before stretching her neck to kiss him. When she broke the sweet contact, she said, "Thank you."
He frowned. "For what?"
"Everything." She buried her face in his chest, not verbalizing what she felt. It was too raw to share with him that he had given her something to cling to should she be facing death in Corsova. The words would only depress him or inspire promises she didn't want him to keep. If execution was her fate, she didn'twant Atar to fight Anca. The only way she could face the possibility of death was by knowing he would live, keeping their love alive in his memory, if they could have nothing else.
Chapter 13.
Nikia experienced low-grade nausea as they entered the throne room, hand-in-hand but wasn't afflicted by full-blown terror, as she had imagined she would be. Seeing Anca and Demi in their thrones didn't intimidate her in the way she had expected. They held her fate in their hands but she was ready to face their decision.
Petru hovered in the corner, along with Starr, dressed in resplendent red robes. Nikia experienced a surge of discomfort when her eyes briefly met the spiritual leader's. Their last meeting hadn't been pleasant. Nikia had murdered Starr's mentor, Ylenia, during her mother's bid for power.
The discomfort carried over when they stopped a few feet from the throne and Anca's cool eyes a.s.sessed her. She let the silence remain, not sure what to say if she spoke first.
"I'm surprised to see you returning with her this way, Atar." Anca looked at their linked hands. "I thought you were impervious to her seduction."
He inclined his head. "Your Highness, I stand by Nikia's side and not as her captor."
Demi shook his head. "How can that be? You know what she is...what she's done."
"It was Illiana-"
Nikia squeezed Atar's hand and he broke off. She looked directly at Anca, hoping her half-sister could see her sincerity. "I have done terrible things but I wasn't me." She sighed at Anca's look of confusion, knowing she was muddling the explanation. "May I start at the beginning?"
"Please do."
She didn't miss the way Anca nodded almost imperceptibly to Petru or the way he inched forward as she began speaking. "As you might remember, my grandmother was a witch. My mother inherited her powers and Elsa honed her skills during Illiana's early years. If Elsa hadn't killed herself when my mother was thirteen, I have no doubt Illiana could have been incredibly powerful." She shuddered, fathoming her mother with any more power than she'd had.
At Anca's discreet nod, she continued. "After Illiana murdered Magda and drugged Father to seduce him, she realized she had miscalculated the conception time and I could never take the Blood Oath with official sanction. She spent her last days locked in the tower, plotting how she could still wrest power from Father. Eventually, she realized the answer was death. Death was the only way for her to seize power. For her, death was always the answer."
Anca recoiled. "Is this a threat? Are you here to tell me you've inherited your mother's sorcery skills and will kill me? Hasn't there been enough death caused by you and your mother in a mad bid for power you can't wield?"
She flinched at the anger and weariness in her sister's tone. "Please, let me explain. The death requiredwas her own, so she could a.s.sume control of a new form. Me. To her way of thinking, I would serve no other useful purpose. I couldn't be the acknowledged heir and Father had already made it clear he would never marry her, which would have given her at least a measure of power.
"To my mother, I was an empty vessel, waiting to fill with her essence. As an infant, what chance did I have of fighting her for control? Her plan worked perfectly and she was able to seize my body with a spell."
Demi made a scoffing sound. "Convenient."
Nikia ignored his skepticism, keeping her gaze locked with Anca's. "That's where she stayed until the night of the Blood Oath, when the ceremony sent me into a coma. When Sian awakened me two years later, it was the first time I had the upper hand. I was in control but she wasn't giving up easily." She rubbed her head unconsciously, remembering the horrible migraines.
"Is she still trying to control you?" As Anca asked, Petru's hand hovered on the hilt of his sword.
Nikia shook her head. "No. I sought out my mother's people and they helped me banish Illiana. She's gone now."
"Why come back?" Demi obviously didn't believe her. "If you're free of her now, I a.s.sume you have no interest in taking the Protectorate from Anca, so why would you risk returning?"
"For me." Atar summarized their capture by Koenig quickly, ending with, "Corsova is the only safe haven and Nikia loves me enough to risk returning here to face whatever you might put her through, so that I will be safe." He turned to look at Nikia, ignoring the others for a moment. "And I love you enough to follow you anywhere, regardless of the risks." Their eyes locked and she forgot about everyone for a long moment, until Anca cleared her throat. Together, they turned back to the queen.
"I want to believe you, Nikia but how can you prove this? I can't take your word on blind faith." Anca shook her head. "I'm sorry but I can't allow you to remain free. I can't trust you not to plot against me and endanger countless lives in the process."
She swallowed her disappointment, trying to accept the dictate stoically. "I understand. What will you do with me?"
Anca and Demi traded a look and he grasped her hand when she replied, "I have to order your death."
Atar surged forward, stopping only when he found the tip of Petru's sword pressing against his throat, barring the way to the queen. "You can't do this. She's telling you the truth. I was there. Her mother is gone."
Nikia touched his arm. "Don't do this, Atar. I don't want you to die for me. Go back to your mountains, please. I don't want you to see me executed. I just want you to remember me the way I am right now, free of Illiana. A woman in love."
He shook his head. "I won't let them do this. I'd rather die with you."
Tears spilled from her eyes. "I can't do this if you die too. Give me the strength to do what I must by letting me know you'll live." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "Please." He still hadn't backed down when Starr stepped forward, curtsying before Anca. "Your Highness, let me read her. I can verify if she's telling the truth. If not, you haven't lost anything."
Anca appeared relieved by the suggestion and she nodded immediately.
Starr approached Nikia, and Atar relaxed slightly as she pa.s.sed him. Nikia stood still as a statue while Starr looked her over. She flinched without thought when the other woman's hands came toward her but forced herself not to back away. She couldn't betray any fear or doubt, lest it influence Starr's reading.
The woman's hands were cool against her face but hummed with power. Nikia didn't remember Starr being so potent and her brow furrowed with confusion. The thought fled her mind when Starr's eyes closed. Of their own accord, her eyes followed suit and the process of banis.h.i.+ng her mother returned to the forefront of her mind, as crisp and vivid as if it had just happened.
It didn't take long for the events to play out and Starr soon stepped away, turning to Anca with a nod.
"She's telling the truth. I saw the spell unfold and there isn't a hint of evil in her aura now."
Anca's shoulders sagged and she waved Petru away from Atar. "Very well. What is it you want, Nikia?"
She licked her lips as her stomach churned. "I want the life I should have had. I want to be a princess whom the citizens love, not fear. I want to help you in any way I can. I want us to be a family." She bowed her head, awaiting a rebuff from Anca.
Instead, the queen rose from her throne and walked to Nikia, touching her shoulder. "I think that is all reasonable."
At her words, Nikia lifted her head, meeting her sister's eyes. "I don't want to usurp you. I never cared about being the Protector." She glanced at Atar. "I just want to have a normal life. Get married, have babies and do my royal duties as you want me to do them."
Perhaps to both of their surprise, Anca embraced her, whispering in her ear, "I was lonely as an only child. I'm happy to finally have a sister." Then she stepped away, composing herself, once more regal.
"Now, why don't you two leave us? I'm certain you have much to discuss."
Nikia nodded and Atar bowed. Hand in hand, they turned away from the thrones and walked out the way they had come. She focused on keeping a stately bearing until the huge doors closed behind them.
She let her spine relax and turned to Atar, throwing herself into his arms. He held her close, squeezing so tightly they were almost one being. No words were necessary right then. They had already spoken of the future, pledged their love and knew they would spend the rest of their time together madly in love. As his lips settled on hers, they sealed their promises with a pa.s.sionate kiss that spoke words of love they didn't need to utter aloud.
About the author:
Kit Tunstall lives in Idaho with her husband, near family and friends. In addition to books available through Ellora's Cave, she is the author of 365 Days of Lara Branson (available late October, 2002),and Undercover Mother (available by September, 2003). Her shorter works have appeared in more than a dozen markets, including s.e.x on the Edge, Boise Weekly, Epiphany Magazine, Bloodl.u.s.t-UK, and Bridges Magazine.
Kit welcomes mail from readers. You can write to her c/o Ellora's Cave Publis.h.i.+ng at P.O. Box 787, Hudson, Ohio 44236-0787.
Also by Kit Tunstall:
A Christmas Phantasie A Matter Of Honor Blood Lines 1: Blood Oath Blood Lines 2: Blood Challenge Blood Lines 3: Blood Bond By Invitation Only Dark Dreams Eye of Destiny Heart Of Midnight Phantasie Playing His Game
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