Claimed: The Warriors of Nur (16 page)

He watched as her sleep-darkened eyes opened, their unfocused gaze shaded by heavy lids.  “Breathe,
Duša
,” he ordered, noting that she still held her breath, her dream not far from the surface.

Gasping, Leo pulled in mouthfuls of air, letting the sweet warmth expand her deprived lungs.  “Oh God,” she panted, the lingering memory of suffocation causing her heart to continue its agitated beat.

“What happened?”  He frantically searched her face, his eyes delving deeply past her own sleep-shrouded ones.

Reaching, she grabbed him, pulling him down into the warmth of her body.  The memory was so close; she could still fill the suffocation, the useless gasping for air.

“Breathe,
Duša
.”  This more a gentle request than a command.  “What was it, Leo?  Tell me.”

“Nothing…” shaking her head she leaned back, meeting his worried gaze. “It was nothing a… a dream.  Just a stupid dream.”

“A dream?”  He asked unconvinced.  “I’ll let you have your secrets… for now, but only for now.”

“Well… how very thoughtful of you.”  She answered sarcastically, no heat in her reply.

“Understand,
Duša
, you are mine.  Mine to protect, mine to provide for. There will be no secrets between us,
Mati
.  I won’t allow it!”

“And is it just me, or are we both sharing secrets here?”  Shifting she was again made aware of the unmovable strength that was Erol.  She felt the now-steady beating of his heart as he continued to press her against him.  Was it just this morning that she’d watched him shower, gently stroking himself beneath the hot spray?

Her body melted into him, the musty scent of male and soap filling her head with wicked thoughts.  God, she wanted to taste him, to lick him where his pulse throbbed steadily below his ear.  She wondered what his reaction would be.  Would he moan softly, pressing her closer?  Would he rub himself against her throbbing sex, eager to begin where they left off the morning before?

“You can let me go now.”

“I don’t want to.  I like this.  I think I’ll keep you here, off balance… vulnerable.”

Closing his eyes, Erol drew her in, the light citrus scent of her exaggerated by the afternoon’s heat.  His body jerked as the scent of her arousal mingled to remind him of his earlier concerns.

“Are you in heat?”  He growled as he drew her deeper into him.  He couldn’t imagine spending an entire breeding cycle in her presence and not taking her as he wanted to.

“Ummm… excuse me?”  She frowned. “Did you just ask me if I’m in… heat?”

“Your needing… is it close?”  Lowering her to the ground, he stood.  He needed distance; everything in him demanded he take her.

“My needing…?”

“Your needing,
Duša
…”  He gritted his teeth, his hands flexing with his need to touch her.  “…do you need a male?”

“Do I need a male?”  Ok, this conversation was getting stranger and stranger by the moment, and she felt like a damned parrot repeating everything he said.

Sighing, Erol raked his hand across his face.  It was obvious he was going to have to send his brothers away.  If he was this desperate now, there was no way all three of them would be able to remain and stay sane.  To keep them both near would put Leo in danger, and that was something he would not do.

“
Duša
, in this I ask your honesty.  I don’t want to force you, but your scent is irresistible.  It makes me crave you, to taste you until you moan in satisfaction.”

“You want to…  Oh…OH…..Oooooooh.”  Mortification hit her, how dense could she be!  “I… umm…  I’m fine.  I don’t…Ummm, I’m fine.”  And this was exactly why she didn’t have much experience… well any experience.  Sexually she was about as inexperienced as you could get, and not still be a virgin.  Technically, she wasn’t a virgin. Like every other teenage girl in her class, she’d had her first sexual experience with an eroto –toy.  It had left her feeling well, ewwy.  That was about as good as she could do when it came to a description.  She had left the encounter with no desire to repeat the experience. In fact she’d been left with a distinct desire to NOT repeat it!

“My scent?  Do you mean that I smell?”  Lifting her arm, she brought it to her nose to sniff.  She thought she smelled pretty good, considering that she hadn’t seen deodorant for a good two weeks.

“Yes,
Duša
, I can almost taste it, the air is so thick with you.”  Lowering her arm, he again took in deep draughts of the air around them, a low growl rumbling in his throat.

“I don’t understand.  I’m not doing anything.”

“You don’t need to DO anything.  We have a heightened sense of smell.  It makes it easy for us to pick up even the most subtle changes, and your scent has definitely changed.”

Erol stared, eyes wide and almost black with desire.  Each inhale brought a thicker taste of her like a physical thing in the air.  His body hardened, ready to stalk and claim his prey.  He could hear the increased staccato of her heart, her instinct to run, to hide, fighting to the surface with every measured step he took towards her.

“Erol, must we all…” 

Atif stopped as he stepped from the dwelling.  His nostrils flared wide.  Sharply, he turned his attention, his pupils dilating at the thick perfume of arousal in the air.  A low growl rumbled his throat, his body shifting towards the female.  His head swiveling, low on his shoulder, his body tensing.

“ATIF!” 

Erol turned, his body blocking her from his brother’s gaze.  The two males faced off; both tensed, readying to fight, low rumbling growls emanating from deep within them.  Erol advanced, his proprietary gaze never leaving the other male, demanding submission.  Atif backed away, driven by the silently lethal demand of his brother until neither remained, leaving Leo confused and oddly anxious.

Erol stalked his brother, corralling him aggressively back inside.  This was exactly what he’d wanted to avoid.  Erol himself, had been unable to control his reaction to Leo’s natural pheromone signals and had only been able to stop himself after scenting his brother, when the abrupt scent of male pheromone indicated a potential rival.  Logically he knew that to take Leo in that moment would have been without her consent, but that knowledge would not have stopped him in the least.  Gwerriera Nies males were hard wired, due to generations of mating uncertainty, with the most primal response to a female close to her breeding cycle, that time when she was the most fertile.  His every instinct demanded that he claim her.  Plant himself and his seed deep within her.  Leave his scent so deep within her that her every breath proclaimed her his.  Sow his blood.  His brother had responded just the same, with instinct and need.

He continued to stalk the younger male, his intention to remove him from Leo’s scent, but also to assert his dominance. As
Mexxeja
, it was his right to claim an unmated female before any other, a right that Atif would be ashamed to have forgotten once his head cleared.

As if hearing his brother’s thought, Atif came slowly to reality, the cloud lifting once he was no longer the unwitting victim of his body’s baser responses.

“You and Cahil will escort Uriel to the
Bashkim
.”  Erol commanded, the cloud of Leo’s heavy, intoxicating scent lifting away with every moment.

“I don’t need to ask if you and our little Leo will be coming.”  Atif smirked, shaking his head in consternation.  He couldn’t believe how strongly he’d reacted.  It had been like a veil, heavy and unmovable, dropped to narrow his every sense to exclude all that was not female, all that was not the origin of that deliciously beckoning scent. 

“Could you imagine?”  Erol asked breathing deeply to clear his head.

“Goddess Mother, Erol…I’ve never scented a female that closely before.”  He raked his hand across his face.  “It’s… consuming.”

“So you understand the need for haste in your leaving.  Cahil will…”  He sighed heavily.  “Do you remember the transition being so hard?”

“No.  But we didn’t have Uriel then either.  Cahil is feeling his instincts awaken, and understands how appealing our little sister will be to other males.  He can’t help himself, he’s becoming overprotective in the extreme.”

“I hope those instincts will serve you well in your travels.”

His brows drew together in concern for his youngest brother.  He could see the toll that all this had taken on his relationship with their sister.

“Temper them, Atif.  They will regret their torture of each other later.”

“Don’t you remember the way we were during the transition?”  He chuckled “Mother kept the bathing pool filled just to dunk us, we were so hot headed.”

“I remember,” he grinned .  “And that was WITHOUT Uriel.”

“They’re siblings Erol…they’re supposed to torture each other.”  Atif sobered.  “I’ll do my best to temper their…ummm…tempers, brother.”

“I know you will, brother.”

“I’ll gather the two hotheads, and we’ll be gone before the moon covers.”  He grimaced. “I was going to ask if we all must be subject to go.  I can’t say that I relish the memory of the last
Bashkim
we attended.”  In fact, he cringed every time he thought of it.  The last
Bashkim
he’d attended had left him with an altogether sour taste.

“I understand your reluctance.”  Erol frowned slightly. “But wasn’t there a young female that you spent most of your time on?”

“It was…” he grunted, “complicated”

They hugged briefly, pressing their foreheads together, kissing in a repeat of the farewell so recently given to Neron.

“Plant well, my brother…that our roots will remain strong”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Cool hands drifted over her heated skin, their exploring fingertips trailing caresses over her shoulders and down her arms, drawing slow circles in the palms of her hands then retracing their journey back up to her neck and collarbone.  They teased, with their feathery dance, down the valley between her breasts, and across the dips and swells of her belly to pool in the empty well of her navel.

Leo arched, stretching her muscles in a languid imitation of a cat just awake from its nap.  She shivered as those fingertips trailed her ribs to the exaggerated flair of her hips and pelvis, to skip forgetfully past her sex and continue their journey down the soft plumpness of her thighs and into the dimples behind her knees. 

Warm, soft lips feathered lightly down the column of her throat, a roughly velvet tongue dipping out to taste the shallow well at its base before laving the luscious swells and cinnamon brown beaks of her breast.  They were swallowed into the deep warmth of a mouth ravenous for their sweet fullness, each suckled tug cramping her stomach with demanding hunger.  That tongue trailed lower to advance seekingly across the supple planes of her belly to stop and hover, with heated breaths, right above the rapidly swelling slit of her sex.

Leo strained towards those heated breaths, her eyes closed to the penetrating rays of the sun.  She writhed in eager anticipation while her naked ass teased the cool grass beneath her. 
Ummm
, she thought contentedly.  To be naked in the sun, while your body was--to be NAKED IN THE…

Leo’s eyes flew open, the languid dream of a moment past, quickly awakening to an erotically complicated present.

Her eyes flashed to the male positioned comfortably between her thighs, his sole and only focus the flushed, over sensitized skin of her exposed core.  Before she could protest, he dove in, his tongue curling around the throbbing nerve bundle of her clit.  Her hands shot down to tangle in the thick locks of his hair, her anchor in the swells of pleasure she found herself drifting in. 

His over-broad shoulders kept her thighs spread, their petite length forced wide to accommodate him, leaving her completely open to his slow exploration.  His lips sealed around her, sucking mercilessly while his tongue circled and swirled in tandem, randomly leaving to lick slowly from her opening back up to where he might renew his assault.  His thumb dipped into her channel, gathering honey to rim slowly around the entrance.

The tension building was electric, her body strumming with each nerve singeing current.  Leo curled into him, her hands pressing him closer while her hips lifted to meet him.  Her stomach tightened as she lifted onto her elbows to stare down at the male feasting between her thighs.

“Please…” she moaned, unsure of what she begged for.  A light sheen covered her, a coil tightening with every deliberate swipe of his talented tongue.

“You taste so gooooood,
Duša
,” the rumbling purr of his voice vibrated within her.  “I knew you’d taste as good as you smell, like the ripest of Tangeli fruit waiting to be picked.”

“Tarz—” her throat constricted, her body reaching, ridge with anticipation.

He growled, a warning and demand in one.  “My name…”  He lapped more quickly, swallowing the nectar that flowed freely now.

“Ple….” she panted. “Please don’t…” Her head fell back, her hair trailing into the grass below.

“My name,
Duša
…” He latched on, his arms curling to keep her thrusting hips stationary.

“…don’t sto…” she fisted his hair more tightly, silently entreating more.

“I won’t,
Duša
.  I’ll give you all you need, but you’ll know who I am.”  He licked slowly, his tongue flat to catch the flood of juice that gushed from her.  “My name,
Duša
.  Say it.”

“Pleeeeeeeeeease,” she moaned, helpless in her need for release.  “I can’t…I don’t…”

Erol’s gaze traveled across her tensed belly and tightly peaked breasts, to the pleasure-flushed face.  She was gone, he could see, her senses beyond hearing his demands for her submission.  A frustrated growl left him as he dove back into her lush and flowing depths.  He wanted her submission, her unquestionable and complete acknowledgement of who lay between her thighs, of who tasted and touched her, of who would soon slide deep inside her.  He wanted that, needed it like air.  Needed her to understand his possession of her, to accept and welcome it.  He needed to hear his name on her lips, almost as strongly as he needed to hear her scream in pleasure, to taste her honey flow, warm and sweet down his throat.

“Give me your pleasure!” he commanded, her pussy wrapping around his darting tongue.

Her body responded with suddenness that pounded through her, the release a crashing wave of climatic bliss.

Her throat, hoarse from each sawing breath, delivered a deep-throated moan, his name at its center.  She collapsed, liberated from the straining need of a body over played.

Erol crawled up her, his body racked with his need to slide into her, to feel her clinging walls clamp and grip him. 

The drowsed, sated look of her slowly reignited to one of fevered lust with each thrust of his engorged knob, as it slid silkily through the overstimulated folds of her lips, each downward slide bringing him closer her apex. 

She whimpered, her hips shifting to wedge the head firmly against her opening.  She wanted him.  To feel him stretch her, his thick length sliding forcefully, plumbing her until no more could fit. 

“
Duša
…” he growled, his ability to continue speaking a testament to his discipline and restraint, “…look at me.”

She looked up, the eyes staring back were dark, the pupils expanded to almost eclipse the lighter grey-white shades of the iris.  Nostrils flared, his jaws clenched with the strain it took to wait for her invitation.

“Are you mine,
Duša
?!”

Her eyes closed, her head rolling back to expose her throat to him.  For a Gwerriera Nies female to do this would be an unmistakable sign of capitulation, but Leo’Nya was not Gwerriera Nies, and so was unaware of the submission she gave. 

He would have no misinterpretations between them.  He would hear, from her lips, her acceptance of his claim. Now.

A low, needy moan stole from her, the only sound she could manage in her boneless, energy-depleted state.  She felt her body begin to build, again reaching for that peak, relishing each searching glide of his cock across her clit. 

She needed him. 

She didn’t want to, but she did. And with a desperation unfamiliar to her in its intensity.

He flipped her, turning her to lie with stomach and breasts pressed to the warm grass beneath.  Her bared neck was too much temptation in his over aggressive, demanding state. 

The long curving slope of her back presented a new torment, its dip up into the pillowed mound of her ass a playground for his tongue.

He licked her, from the slit of her delicious ass to the base of her neck, his body covering her, his cock rubbing desperately between the warm cheeks.

“My name,
Duša
…”  no longer a demand, but a plea.  The least he would accept from her.  “Say it.  Let me meet your need.”  His strained body hovered above her, now unable to stop his body’s forceful grinding.

“Please,” she whimpered, lifting to him, the arch in her back exaggerated in her effort to meet him.  “Erol…please…”

He plunged deep, a triumphant roar tearing from him—the roar of an animal, too long restrained.  Too long denied. 

He stroked deep, the movements strong and purposeful, her moaning whimpers and pleasured gasps jacking him higher.  He ground into her, the hilt of him meeting the wet heat of her in desperate need.

“So deep, so wet,” he groaned, unable to articulate how satisfied he was with their fit.  He spread his knees, forcing her wider, making space to take all of him.

“Yeeeeeeeeessssssssssss.”  She screamed, her head arching back, unaware of the wanton picture she made.  “Oh God, again…yes, again, Erol, please.”

He buried his face in her neck, his need to bite her almost overwhelming.  She had not acquiesced to his claim, denying him the right to mark her. 

“
Duša
…please…” he ground out through a throat constricted.  “Say you are mine.”

Silence met his plea.  The only sound the continued whimpers of a body being strummed and stroked.

“So close.”  She cried, “Please…..please…” Her head dropped forward in abandon, with means left to support it.

Reaching around, he stroked her breast, sliding his hand across her tightened belly to the wet forest of curls below.  He thrummed the tight bundle of her clit, her body jerking with the contact.

He felt her tighten, her walls beginning to clench, a signal of her fast approaching release.

“Give it
Duša
…” he growled “Give me your pleasure.”

She exploded, her growled satisfaction drowned by her screams. 

She milked him, her body demanding reciprocation with its ever-tightening grip.  He came, unable to deny her, his overwarm essence jetting deep into her still spasming channel.

He held her close, his hand still gently coaxing the last of her climax.

He took her with him, his body still deep within hers, as he collapsed to his side.  It had been years, more than he cared to count, since he’d shared the pleasure of a female’s body, his only experience having been his first mating after coming through his transition.

As a newly matured male, he’d been taken to the
Tobba
to have his needs met, their tutelage the final rite of passage into adulthood.  Males were taken to be sated and instructed, their tutelage in the art of sensuality, and restraint a necessity in their culture.  A male unable to pleasure his female was less likely to
Mati
, the female being able to reject his claim for any reason.

Erol had been an eager pupil, astounding in his ability to manipulate the female body, his natural compassion allowing him to become more in tune with the physical needs of his partners.  He’d been more than capable when his time with the
Tobba
had ended, head and shoulders above the other young males sent to study, both literally and figuratively.

Leo snuggled back into the warmth of the male behind her, her body sated and sore.  She winced when Erol shifted, sliding slowly out of her. 

Maybe a little
too
sore.

She reached down, sliding her fingers through the wetness. 
Oh crap
…

She jack knifed, jerked from the cocooning warmth of Erol’s big body as it wrapped around her.

“Oh God…oh God….I’m...” legs wide, she opened very outer lips to stare at the wet, softness between. “  …I’m bl…not bleeding?”  She dipped two fingers inside, coming away with a thin pinkish-blue jell.  She stared, rubbing her fingers together to gage its texture.  It was kinda grainy, like blue snot with pink sand mixed in.

“What in the world…” her voice trailed when she glanced at the stone silent visage of the male behind her.

“My Essence...” 

“Your essence.”

Nodding briefly, he took her hand, wiping it into the grass beside them.

“Your essence?”  She searched his face for further explanation.

His gaze traveled to her flat belly.

“Your essence?”  Her voice raised in dawning understanding.

“My Essence…my seed…” he reached a hand caressingly towards her stomach, “My young,
Duša
.”

She smacked his hand away, the force causing her own to sting, she jumped to her feet searching franticly for her clothes.  She knew she’d been dressed before falling asleep, but now they were nowhere to be found.

“Where are my clothes?” she asked, panic obvious in her voice. 
No preggo…no preggo…no preggo…

“Why do you need them?” he asked from behind her.  He’d purposely hidden them, along with any others in her rooms.  The time he’d have alone with her was limited.  He intended no barriers between them, not even that.