Allegiance Sworn (31 page)

Her husky laughter vibrated against his mouth. “I like hearing you curse. So hot and impassioned. Knowing I’m the cause of it makes me wet.”

The memory of her cream coating his fingers sent a shudder through him. Just how wet was she?

He had to touch her and see. Going down on one knee, he reached for the clasp on her breeches, but her hands were already there. He hooked his fingers in the waistband. She lifted her hips and he peeled the material over them and down, cursing again as it caught on her boots.

Her husky chuckles made his own lips twitch as he removed the boots before stripping the breeches from her. He glanced up from where he knelt beside the bed, breath catching at the sight of her gripping the hem of her shirt and pulling it over her head.

The lamplight gave her skin a tawny hue and cast shadows that outlined every curve and hollow, from her
Na’Reish
-spotted shoulders to the lush curve of her breasts, lean ribs, and flat abdomen. His hold on her ankles tightened.

“I like the hunger in your eyes, Arek.” Imhara’s husky voice accompanied a sultry smile. “It excites me. A lot.”

He grinned, and spread his fingers, greedy for the feel of her, but where to start? As much as he wanted to savor her breasts, the sweet scent of her arousal beckoned.

“Lay down and close your eyes.” His smile turned wicked. “You get to feel, not see, what I do.”

Her breath caught in her throat. He couldn’t resist trailing his knuckles over each of her breasts, liking the way her skin flushed pink, her nipples budding tighter.

“Enjoying these will have to wait. I have other plans.” Disappointment flickered in her gaze. “But there’s nothing I like more than seeing a woman pleasure herself.” Her lips parted. “Will you do that for me, Imhara? Pleasure yourself while I watch?”

Her gaze stayed fixed on him as she lay back on the bed, her hands coming to rest on her concave stomach. Something glittered in her gaze, but before he could work out what it was, she shut her eyes and began touching herself.

His jaw loosened, and he bit back a groan, impressed and elated she’d taken his suggestion to heart. He propped his chin on her knee to watch, as promised.

Although instead of playing with her breasts as he’d asked, her hands roved everywhere else—her face, her throat, her shoulders and arms, her ribs, her belly—teasing herself, and tormenting him.

“Keep going, Imhara.” Unable to resist, Arek smoothed his hands up her legs. “When you finally do touch your breasts I want you to imagine it’s me. That it’s my hands cupping and shaping you, pinching and plucking at your nipples, giving you pleasure.”

Her soft moan jolted through him. His entire body flared with volcanic heat, molten and raw, so intense he froze, unable to move until the sensation passed.

Fighting the urge to rush, he explored the contours and lean lines of her limbs, first with his fingertips, then his hands, finally with his mouth, lips, and tongue. Every openmouthed kiss on her flesh elicited a twitch, the stroke of his tongue a restless wriggle, the nip of his teeth a gratifying hitch of breath.

The telltale signs of arousal fed his own.

Hooking his arms beneath her knees, he tugged her to the edge of the bed, and used the width of his shoulders to keep her thighs spread and open, so he could finally enjoy the sweet scent and sight of her arousal. Her bare folds were plump and swollen, her inner flesh a deep pink, shiny and slick with her cream.

His mouth watered. He pressed a kiss to her inner thigh then the other, working his way closer to the treasure he couldn’t wait to taste, knowing the moment he did, all his intentions of taking his time to savor her would be lost.

“Arek, please!” Imhara’s breathless plea came out as a groan.

“Please what, Imhara?” he asked, his own voice none too steady. “Please taste me? Please touch me? Please stop?”

Her hands fisted in the covers beside him as her head lifted from the bed. She glared down the length of her body at him. He chuckled softly at the fire in her violet gaze.

“Don’t you dare stop!” An order accompanied by a tightening of her thighs. “Do something! Anything!”

Her raw passion wrapped around him like the tail of a whip, lashing and breaking what was left of his control. With a growl, he buried his face against her, his taste buds exploding the moment he tongued her sweetness.

A lick, one swallow and he groaned, his hunger for her escalating so swiftly he couldn’t stop. The craving, the heat of her against his mouth, the sound of her cries filling the room, all of it an irresistible force.

Like a
haze
-addict he kept returning to taste her, parting her with his fingers, working her with his tongue, holding her down as she undulated against him, darkly thrilled as she grew wetter and wetter. The pitch of her cries changed.

Arek wrenched his mouth away from her. He rose, the taste and scent of her on his lips, and flipped her onto her stomach. The sight of her perched on the edge of the bed, the rounded flesh of her backside just within arm’s reach, made skimming his breeches off difficult. Another two clasps had to be undone before he could kick them free of his legs.

Half a dozen painful heartbeats of time spent away from her.

“Arek?” Imhara shot him an impatient look over one bare shoulder, saw what he was doing, and propped herself on her elbows so she could see him better. The heat in her gaze was like a physical touch, one that burned.

Arek drew in a slow breath, trying for calm and failing. Her mouth quirked at the corners and her tongue swept out to wet her lips.

“Let me taste you.” Her demand shot straight through him like a bolt of lightning. The image she conjured with her words hardened him even more. “I’ve wanted that since the night you knelt at the foot of my bed naked.”

The raw hunger on her face mirrored his own. She started to roll over and turn. He placed a hand on her lower back, just where the twin trails of her
Na’Reish
markings met the rise of her buttocks, and stopped her.

“Not this time.”
Light
, if she came anywhere near him, the first touch of her mouth would make him lose control. He wanted to be buried deep inside her before he spent.

Kneeing her legs apart, he braced a hand beside her shoulder and leaned over, letting her feel the hard length of him against her. Her hips lifted. The slick caress, impatient, urgent, seared him.

“Arek . . .” His name a husky cry accompanied by an uncontrollable shiver that shook her whole body. A reminder she hadn’t allowed herself such pleasure in five, long years.

Sliding an arm beneath her, he secured a hold around her waist. She reached between her legs to grasp him, then positioned him against her. He groaned at the wet heat kissing the tip of his erection.

“Yes . . . now.” Her words came as a long, drawn-out moan, her breath hot against the skin of his wrist. Her teeth grazed his flesh then nipped. Hard. He hissed at the sting, unsurprised to see blood well from the broken skin. She licked the droplets away.

He pushed into her. One strong thrust. His cry blended with hers. Fingers digging into her hip, Arek reveled at the sensation of being so deep inside her.

“Yes!
Lady’s Breath!
Arek!” Imhara’s whispered words accompanied a glorious, agonizing contraction of her muscles around him. “It’s been so long. . . .
Light
, you fill me.”

Another silky contraction and she gasped. He banded his arm around her.

“Breathe,” he ground out. “Breathe or this will be over too soon.”

He sucked in his own desperate breath, felt her ribs expand. For long moments neither of them moved except to draw in lungfuls of air. Arek tried to focus on that rather than the fire licking every nerve from the waist down.

Couldn’t.

His forehead thumped against the damp skin on her shoulder. “You feel so good.”

So hot.

So tight.

Velvet pleasure.

The salty scent of her skin combined with the heavier, earthy scent of their arousal. His braced arm lost strength, and he dropped to rest on his forearms. Her fingers bracketed his wrists, and squeezed, as if searching for an anchor.

Imhara wriggled her hips, and he grit his teeth. “Don’t move.”

“Don’t think I can stop.” Her fingernails dug into his wrists, her nails a sweet pinch of pain. “It’s too hot. Too good.” Her groan vibrated through her body to him. “I need more.”

He grunted, and ground against her, unable to stop the movement. Her ankles hooked around the back of his knees and tightened, sending him another inch deeper. She flexed around him. He shuddered, heart pounding so hard in his chest Imhara had to feel it against her back.

Her muscles squeezed him again, the pressure agonizing. Hot, molten fire exploded through him, wild, irrepressible. It incinerated his control.

“Imhara!” The gravelly voice didn’t sound like his. He withdrew, almost to the point of leaving her, then returned, grunting with the smack and jolt of flesh against flesh. Her cry vibrated against his arm.

He tried to keep the pace steady, but with every stroke, her heat, the excruciating clasp of her muscles, the need to lose himself in the furnace burn of pleasure tormented him.

Far too quickly his rhythm deteriorated into something more frantic, every stroke hard, almost savage. Imhara locked her fingers around his wrists, her calves around his knees, pushing back against him with every thrust, her cries reduced to breathless whimpers.

A tangle of limbs, movement, sound, and sensation. Arek lost the ability to distinguish between any of it, consumed by the need to release. Imhara’s escalating pleasure drove his own.

Between one heartbeat and the next, her body seized. Her face contorted. A scream ripped from her throat. The sound pierced him, sent him hurtling over the edge. Fire and heat, light and darkness, sensation and numbness—everything coalesced, imploded, and exploded in one cataclysmic rush.

His seed jetted into her, the powerful spasms so intense he roared. Imhara’s incoherent cries registered, then the maelstrom swallowed her presence and swept him away on the next wave. On and on the surges came, the next more powerful than the one before, until he thought he would never be able to see or hear or breathe again.

How long it lasted he didn’t know, but as the savage pleasure finally subsided, he was shaking from head to toe. All he could do was try to breathe, and regain his senses.

Light
, he’d never felt so drained yet overwhelmingly satisfied.

Ragged gasps reached his ears, then the softest of whispers.

“Merciful Mother!”
A feminine curse.

The yielding warmth beneath him shivered. His nostrils filled with a familiar scent.

Imhara.

With a breathless groan, he eased himself from her and lay on the bed beside her.

Her eyelashes fluttered then opened, the glazed look in them filling him with instant satisfaction.

“You found release.” His voice was hoarse, raw, as if he’d spent the day on the training grounds instructing.

“Not sure what you’d call it.” A smile curved her lips. “But I think you finally killed me.”

His mouth quirked. “I claimed you.”

“No need to sound so smug. . . .” Her hand inched over the coverlet and her fingers tangled with his.

Arek brushed a kiss over her knuckles. “And I intend on doing it again.”

“Right now?” Her voice broke midsentence, but the flare of heat in her eyes betrayed her interest.

“I’ll give you a few minutes to recover.” He grinned. “I thought you
Na’Reish
were supposed to have stamina.”

Her gaze skimmed south along his body, lingered a moment, then returned. “You’re as spent as I am!” Her lips twitched. “Tease.”

“Unashamedly.”

She joined in when he chuckled.

“I do intend to claim you again, Imhara Kaal.” Shifting closer, he touched his forehead to hers and cupped her breast in an easy caress. “You have my
Lady
-sworn oath on that.”

She arched up into his hand. “I’ll hold you—” A soft snick of sound made both freeze. The haze of pleasure on Imhara’s face sharpened to awareness. “The door!”

Arek pushed up onto one elbow as she rolled toward the end of the bed, and her sword. The ornate handle on the door descended. He shoved off the mattress, adrenaline surging, just as the door flung open and black-clad
Na’Hord
warriors poured into the room.

Half a dozen.

All armed.

Silver glinted near his bare feet.

He snatched up his belt, and wrapped it around his fist, leaving the buckle end to swing free.

“Hold!” The order came from outside in the corridor.

All six warriors halted in positions around the room.

Imhara’s bare shoulder brushed his arm, then she was beside him, her unsheathed sword clenched in her fist. Her fierce expression matched her stance, totally unconcerned that she stood naked in a room full of armed strangers.

Arek moved to his left, shielding her from any first strike and from view.

Two others appeared in the doorway.

Both familiar.

“Rassan!” Imhara sounded surprised.

“My apologies,
Na
Kaal, but I had little choice.” The Second stepped into the room and to one side. The stoic expression on his face gave nothing away.

What was going on?

The second figure entered. The light from the nearest lamp lit his broad face. It also caught the flicker of disdain in his deep purple gaze as it passed over both them. His black lips peeled back into a disgusted sneer.

“Yur!”

The name hissed from Imhara’s lips like a curse.

Chapter 34

“G
ET
dressed,
Na
Kaal.” Suppressed anger deepened Urkan Yur’s displeasure.

Imhara tightened her grip on her sword, astounded that the
Na’Reishi
warrior would berate her, more concerned over her state of undress than the naked blade in her hand.

“You’ve disgraced yourself enough for one night.” Another sweep of his gaze and Yur’s expression twisted, yet the gleam in his eye proved covetous. “Conduct yourself like a
Na’Reishi
female of worth.”

His gloved hand flexed close to the hilt of his sheathed sword, a move that had Arek shifting to cover her. Behind Yur, Rassan moved to his right, taking up a position in between two of the
Na’Hord
. Her Second’s eyes locked with hers, his focus intense, piercing. His chin dipped slightly.

Imhara’s heart thudded hard.

Light
, this was it.

Her mouth dried and she struggled to lock down the surge of raw elation, numbing fear, and biting anticipation. Ruthlessly she shoved it all to the back of her mind, years of discipline helping to contain it. Inhaling a calming breath, she refocused on her goal.

Yur.

He’d come to take her to Savyr; the final gambit in their plan. Five years of scheming and maneuvering were about to end.

His appearance at the House proved unexpected. Why he hadn’t waited at her pavilion and instead sought her out at the one place he despised and avoided, she’d never know. It didn’t matter. But Rassan’s decision to accompany him now made sense, especially with half a dozen
Na’Hord
in the room with them.

“You’re lecturing me on behavior?” She laughed, the pitch harsh, mocking. “Might I remind you, you’re the one who came barging into this room, showing complete disrespect for Ilahn’s rules. As you’d well know. I wager you never burst in on our
Na’Rei
when he engaged the services of this House.”

Yur’s expression darkened and his black lips pressed into a flat line. His nostrils flared as he took a single step toward her, his boot striking the rug with a dull thud, then pulled up short.

She watched him struggle with his temper
.
Savyr Gannec’s visits were common knowledge to those who frequented the House. Savyr liked to socialize. Accompanying the
Na’Rei
to a place where purebred demons indulged their appetites for humans had to have grated on Yur’s purist sensibilities. Watching him hide his disapproval behind a neutral mask amused quite a few, herself included.

If he’d been able to get away with it, she had little doubt this place would have been burned to the ground long ago.

“Clothe yourself. Now!” Yur hissed. He snatched a garment from the floor—her shirt—and flung it in their direction. Arek caught it and handed it to her. “Your night here is over.”

“Over? It’s only just started, Second.” She pressed up against Arek’s back, slid her arm around his waist, and rested her chin on his shoulder. His scent filled her nose and she savored the wild spice and musky odor. “You interrupted what was turning out to be a very pleasant night.”

Fury glittered in Yur’s eyes. “Actions you shall be held accountable for.”

Just how far could she push him before he broke?

“Now, for the last time, get dressed.” The order spat from his mouth. “Don’t think I won’t command my warriors to drag you out of here naked.”

Arek tensed and she pressed her fingers into his abdomen in warning.

“You’re going to hold me accountable for my actions?” Imhara released him and gestured for him to collect their clothes.

He did so, then placed himself between her and Yur, not to protect but to block the Second’s gaze and give her a modicum of privacy. A gesture she appreciated. He waited until she’d dressed before donning his clothes.

Imhara collected her weapon from the bed. “If you’re referring to the betrothal meeting I missed tonight, I’ll reschedule it for another time.”

A lie but Yur would never know.

“That would be difficult considering
Na’Reishi
Greev has withdrawn his petition.”

“He did?”

“As has Commander Jirri. Each expressed their dissatisfaction with your less than appropriate behavior. Something the last petitioner will seek to rectify when he becomes your mate.”

“Really?” She snorted. “And who is this warrior who thinks he can control me?”

Yur bared his pointed teeth, his smile sinister. “Me.”

A wave of feverish cold washed through her.

Merciful Mother
, no!

The thought of him touching her, demanding her compliance, of being given the right to lead her Clan in any way he wished made her physically sick to her stomach. No murdering side-winder would share her bed or claim the title of
Na
.

Arek made a soft sound behind her, a short inhalation, and his spicy scent altered, gained some heat. She caught his forearm and squeezed.

As she turned her head to reprimand him, one of the
Na’Hord
warriors along the wall near the foot of the bed shifted, caught her eye. He’d balanced on the balls of his feet, a stance she recognized.

A dig of her nails brought Arek’s gaze to her, then he glanced down and to the side. He stilled and she knew he’d spotted the
Na’Hord
warriors. Beneath her palm his arm tensed.

Twice.

“You’re the third petitioner?” Imhara returned her attention to Yur. “You want to be my mate? I don’t think so.”

“You no longer have that choice.” Dark satisfaction saturated his tone. “Your own carelessness ensured that. The
Na’Rei
has no reason to delay our mating.”

The twisted logic behind Yur and Savyr’s machination caused another shiver to ripple through Imhara. Both warriors had to have known she’d dismiss Jirri as a contender. His Clan’s need for resources, his age, and his dismissive treatment of her all reasons to reject him.

As for
Na’Reishi
Greev, she’d probably have declined his application along similar grounds. With Yur, there was no consideration involved at all. Rejecting all three meant Savyr could then choose her mate. There was no doubt who she’d have been given to: the black-hearted
Vorc
-scat standing in front of her.

“There’s always a choice, Urkan.” She bared her teeth in a feral smile. “You’re not assuming my title or getting Kaal territory.”

Yur continued speaking as if he hadn’t heard her.

“I suggest you think carefully about your actions from now on, Imhara. Once we’re mated I’ll take great pleasure in disciplining you for every infraction or defiant action you or your kin commit.

“And maybe, if you behave and act like a proper
Na’Reishi
female, I might be persuaded to leniency. But knowing you, those lessons could take a long time to learn. I’m looking forward to instructing you on how to . . . behave.”

Her temper ignited but she reined it in. “You dare to threaten my Clan?” She shook her head. “That won’t earn you their respect.”

“I don’t expect it.” His smile turned wicked. “But obedience and fear . . . well, they’ll show me both if they care for your good health and wish to see you unharmed.”

Light
, he was deluded if he thought that would intimidate her.

“I won’t let you use me as leverage over them. I’d die first!”

Yur’s vicious smile grew. “I was hoping you’d say that.”