Drink of Me (24 page)

But the instant she went lax with postorgasmic weakness, he sank into her to the very hilt. She was drenched in sweat now, so he slid over her body with all the more ease as he withdrew to the very limits of his length and then thrust back in return. He caught her head in his hands, giving her a little shake to focus her passion-dazed eyes on his. He was rousing her overstimulated body again, making her moan softly.

“Look at me,
kébé
,” he gasped, barely able to talk as violent thrills and urges for her blood washed through him. He buried himself deep inside her again, shocking her with the intensity of his thrust, forcing her eyes onto him even as she grasped him with her hands and knees, clearly undecided if she wanted to hold him at bay or encourage him further.

“Reule,” she begged.

“Feel me, sweet baby?” he rasped as he locked his gaze to hers and rocked her body with his. “Mercy, Lord, you feel like home. So hot, so beautiful. Paradise.”

Reule’s body forced a rhythm, the need beyond his control and ignorant of her cries of enjoyment. Her nails bit into his back as she gripped him, her hips rising to meet the downward rush of his. He knew the very instant it would become too much. It thrashed through his mind like a demanding serpent, constricting everything within him until he thought he would implode. He reached for her, his hands gripping her shoulders and jerking her neck up to his mouth as he stretched his fangs wide and, finally, sank deep.

She screamed just as her blood burst into his mouth. For Reule, it was like swallowing pure sunshine, the rays searing down through his body on a straight path to release. He was barely taking his second sweet swallow before he was climaxing in vicious bursts of pleasure. He came so hard it was almost like hurting. He’d had no doubts about her, and now as he poured himself hotly into her, he knew just how blessed he was.

He slowly surfaced from the haze of completion, the tide of rapture receding as he still sucked at the crest of her shoulder. The very essence of a being was in the blood, and Mystique’s was a potent combination of her power and her passions. So potent that he had to force himself to disengage, knowing he was being greedy now. He nuzzled her, licking the wounds he’d made with lazy strokes of his tongue until the flow of blood had ceased, not a single drop wasted.

He lifted his head and looked down into her face. His heart all but stopped when he saw the expression of joy on her sleepy features. He knew instantly that she had been given release once again, though he couldn’t remember it for himself. He’d been far too seized by his own pleasure. But it was clear that this orgasm had been far more intense an experience for her. The bite of passion, when received, was an intoxicating thing, and she’d had no hope of escaping the gratification even if she had wanted to.

Pleased, Reule rolled her over him, laying her out against himself as he relaxed back into his pillows. He was suddenly exhausted and it made him chuckle. He’d never been the type to curl up and sleep after sex, but he could feel this was different. This was contentment, trust, and the sort of feelings you didn’t want to rush away from. This was worth relaxing, taking time, even napping just for the pleasure of sharing his lover’s wonderful warmth. Now he understood. He understood what it was his parents had had.

“Reule?”

He smiled. Her voice was hoarse from her passionate outcries. He realized he was feeling very self-satisfied and his smile grew. “Yes,
kébé
?”

“If this is how you treat your Prima, I’d like to be wed as soon as possible. I want you to be legally responsible for doing this to me at every opportunity.”

That said, she fell into a contented sleep.

He’d been a little more selfish than normal, and as he watched the deep breaths of her sleep, Reule theorized that it was because he’d never felt that level of emotion before. Nothing in his experience had prepared him for the fever that had overcome him the instant she’d promised herself to him. The urge had been fiercely territorial, and he’d been unable to focus on anything but taking her and making her his.

She’d been sleeping now for an hour, and he’d watched her every minute. She’d tried to slide away from him a few times, but he’d held her stubbornly close against him. She was no more used to another in her bed than he was, and he had no doubts that her attempts at withdrawal were self-protective. It would take time, he reminded himself, before she’d feel secure. He took heart in the fact that she’d fallen trustingly into sleep. That she was trusting him with her entire future was only slightly more important to him than that.

Reule sighed, glancing at the dark window that warned him their initial time together would have to draw to a close very soon. There were some changes that would need to be made now, and he’d see to them before the banquet began. By now the Pack was well aware of the choice he’d made. He could hide only so much. His joy had been emanated in healthy doses, he had no doubt. He needed to confront his friends before much more time passed.

Reaching down to his affianced bride, Reule ran gentle fingers over the length of her bare arm, from shoulder to fingertips, letting the roughness of his calluses stimulate her. She twitched and tried to roll away again. He held tight with a chuckle, then second-guessed himself and let her roll away onto her back, but no farther. Now her gorgeous breasts were thrust into his line of sight like an offering and he exhaled in a rush as his body instantly tightened. He rose up over her on a single elbow and slowly bent his head until his lips brushed her nipple. It was the barest of kisses, but she moaned a tiny sound of pleasure as the dark rose tip tightened into a beckoning peak. He touched his tongue to it, then added the scrape of his teeth when her warm taste filled and stirred him.

When her eyes flew open with a gasp, he was sucking her in earnest, his hand sliding up her thigh in a stimulating path toward damp, delectable places.

“Reule,” she breathed.

He released her so he could smile up at her. “I had better be,” he observed. “I hear he’s developed a bit of a jealous streak where you’re concerned.”

“Oh?” She raised a single slim brow, amusement glittering in her eyes.

“Insanely so,” he assured her gravely, moving over her until her mouth was just beneath his. “You are so very beautiful,” he said, his tone becoming all seriousness to match the eyes looking deeply into hers.

That was how she knew he wasn’t speaking of her physical beauty. The entire compliment was spoken as he looked inside her, rather than outside. She had the funniest sensation in her chest, like her heart tumbling over, and she swallowed hard as the feeling spread all through her body. She recalled oh so vividly how he expressed his delight with her exterior beauties. Her entire body still hummed with the pleasure he’d served to her in large portions. She shivered when she anticipated being loved by him into the future. And if he expressed his appreciation for her inner qualities with even half as much intensity as he had her outer, she suspected she might be very happy indeed.

She reached to ruffle his hair with her fingers, loving the soft feel of the shaggy mass. Then she slowly glanced down the connection of their bodies, the contrasts of his dark skin against her pale. She smiled, enjoying the visualization of their differences. The feeling surprised her. She’d thought she might be disturbed by so visible a reminder that she wasn’t Sánge, but how could she be when he looked so sexy lying naked against her, felt so warm and, apparently, already aroused?

She met his eyes, licking her lips in sultry anticipation.

“A better than fair idea, my sweet
kébé
, but we’re soon due at Amando’s banquet.” He chuckled, accurately reading her expression.

“How soon?” she asked hopefully.

“Soon enough. You will want Para to repair the gown I tore if you intend to wear it tonight. I also imagine you wish to bathe. There are things I must attend to as well.”
Clever girl
, Reule thought as her eyes narrowed in instant suspicion. He probably shouldn’t have woken her with the comment about his jealousies.

“Are you going to hurt Rye?”

“No.”
Not until after the ceremonies
, he thought, fresh anger radiating through him.

“Then why are you clenching your teeth?”

Reule sighed, the exhale releasing tension. “Because I’ll be dealing with him in the morning. I don’t look forward to it because I’ve never had to harshly reprimand Rye before. He’s usually warm and congenial, more dangerous as a flirt than anything else.”

“Which only goes to prove my point that it was grief that made him violent,” she didn’t hesitate to point out.

“I know,” he said, leaning back onto his side of the bed with a noise of frustration as he threw an arm over his eyes. “I have no idea what to do, Mystique. He must suffer a powerful consequence for his actions, yet I know you’ll be devastated if I make it a violent one. How do I please us both?”

“You know him, Reule. Enough to know how to punish him without making it a challenge. You must make the consequence equal to the act, but temper it with the knowledge that he’s in a great deal of pain already.”

“I’ll think on it. For tonight, I have a way of satisfying my need to see him squirm a little.”

“Oh?”

He laughed when she tried to sound nonchalant but ended up sounding terribly curious. There was a part of her that wanted to see Rye made to pay for his act against her, even if she would accept no violence. “That will be my concern. You’re…”

There was a brief knock on the door that interrupted him and Reule reacted with amazing speed, jerking a coverlet over her bare body. The fabric was still settling even as the door swung open to admit Drago. He carried a small tray and bustled in with his usual brisk efficiency.

“My Prime,” he greeted Reule without looking at the bed, “I hope you’ve enjoyed your rest. The ceremony will be—”

The Sánge attendant turned as he was setting the tray down and froze midsentence as he took in the tableau of his master and the woman tucked up tight against him. When he recognized the bloodred hair, he lost all coordination and the tray banged down onto the table with a clattering of its contents. Mystique had never seen him flustered before; his dignity was usually unflappable. She instantly had the urge to laugh, which she smothered by pressing her face against Reule’s bare shoulder.

“My…” Drago sucked air, searched for words, giving himself a fishlike appearance that worsened Mystique’s predicament. She snorted against Reule’s skin, which made him suppress a chuckle of his own.

“I rather recall the idea of knocking is to give an opportunity for someone within to respond,” Reule mused. He turned his attention to Mystique. “Isn’t that so, sweetheart?” She responded with a smothery snicker he took as a yes. “Very well. Mystique agrees with me.”

Reule was torturing the poor fellow. Drago had been with him for decades, and he’d always had free access to Reule’s chamber. Reule simply didn’t bring women to his own bed. Ever. He didn’t like the idea of the mark of a woman in his private chambers, so he’d always met his lovers elsewhere. It was quite possible that Drago fully understood the significance of what he was seeing: the declaration of an event he’d often complained about never seeing in his lifetime.

“My Prime! I beg forgiveness. I…of course I ought to have waited. It was…um…unforgivably rude. My lady Mystique, I’m most apologetic,” the attendant stammered as he kept his eyes strictly on the tray he was suddenly very interested in organizing. Drago had flushed an amusing shade of red, no doubt wondering exactly how bad his timing had actually been. Mystique gave him credit. Para would be stretched out on the floor by now. “I’ll just go get something I’ve forgotten,” he continued, edging toward the door without looking at the bed, “and I’ll return to help ready you for the ceremony in…uh…about…”

“Ten minutes,” Reule provided gently.

“Ten minutes. Just so. Excuse me, My Prime.”

The attendant dashed out the door, shutting it tightly behind him, and Mystique finally burst into irrepressible giggles.

“You’d think he’d never seen you with a woman before.”

“Well, I don’t believe he has,” Reule mused thoughtfully. “Certainly not in this bed. Probably never at all without at least a little forewarning to prepare his dignity for the affront.”

Her laughter ended so abruptly that Reule looked down at her curiously. She was looking at him with an indecipherable expression, and the wave of emotion coming from her had the chill of that fear he was beginning to associate with her past. Instantly disliking whatever she was thinking, he threw himself into her mind and read her thoughts, giving her no opportunity to hide.

“Yes, it’s true,” he said softly as he reached out to touch a thumb against her temple, brushing her in a tender caress. “No woman before you has been in this bed, and no woman beyond you will ever be. I won’t pretend to have never had lovers,
kébé
, nor will I pretend you won’t run into a few in my court. This is a closed society, you being the first outsider to ever take up permanent residence here. It makes for a lot of gossip and few strangers. But I promise you this, there will never be anyone else for me so long as we draw breath together, and beyond. Anyone who tells you otherwise will be a liar and an enemy to you. Therefore an enemy to me. I’ve barely begun to love you, but I can already swear to you that it will take me a great deal of time and energy to satisfy myself with you, Mystique. I’ll be fortunate to find the stamina to rule, never mind take a mistress.”

He got a smile for his efforts with that remark. Still, it didn’t light her eyes and he knew she wasn’t certain, just as she wasn’t certain where her conviction that all men were philanderers came from. It marked her deeply, but he felt her powerful desire, as always, to trust him. He’d said all he could on the matter. It would be up to her to come the rest of the way.

As he’d said earlier, the more she regained snatches of memory, the less he liked it, for her sake. She’d been far more bold and confident before this. Then again, she’d also not felt her heart was at risk before. He could understand her caution. He’d felt it keenly himself, that fear of potential hurt.

That thought was followed by the realization that if she felt her heart was at risk, it meant her heart was actually involved. She’d said nothing to him of her feelings for him. Not even a hint. Just that she was willing to allow him to love her. But her fear hinted at so much more, and it made his pulse dance with joy. He hadn’t asked for her love. He’d hoped to win it slowly through time, trust, and contentment. This was a promising first step, and he felt happier than anyone probably had a right to feel.

“Come!” He leapt out of bed and grabbed her, swinging her onto her feet in a rush that sent the blanket flying off her body. He held her naked figure against his for a long moment, reveling in the sensual warmth of her and her amused chuckles. “Get dressed so Drago can feel at ease about returning. It’s time you had Para ready you for the banquet. Wear this red,” he encouraged her as he scooped the dress from the floor, frowning briefly at the wrinkles. “If you think she can repair the damage I’ve caused,” he said ruefully.

She smiled at him as he gathered the dress and dropped it over her head and arms. “Must it be this red, or any red, My Prime?”

He grinned at that. “You mean Para has given you more than one?”

“Well, there is a black velvet that is quite beautiful,” she said, leaning into him as he frowned slightly, “and it has your crest, My Prime, in a repeating chain of red around the hem. Also, here.” She leaned back and ran her palm along her neckline to indicate the path of a second, smaller chain of crests. “Only the neckline is far lower, so it will actually come across here…”

Reule watched with a suddenly parched throat as she swept slow, teasing fingers in a dip over her breasts. So slowly, in fact, that she stimulated herself, the perking up of her nipples under red velvet sure proof of that.

His crest, across her incredible breasts.

The idea had the most intensely satisfying erotic effect on both his mind and his body. It almost landed her in bed again, on her back with her skirts tossed up around her ears.

“Wear the black,” he commanded her in a growling rumble that made her laugh at him, her light eyes dancing with mirth. He was happy to see her usual spirits returned, even if it was at the expense of his overheated body. There would be plenty of time after the ceremony to make her pay the price for her mischief. “Now, off to Para with you,” he said, dragging her to the door by her arm and using a spank on her backside to propel her out into the hall. “Drago! Get in here,” he barked to the attendant he’d known would be waiting close by in the hall. He grinned as he listened to Mystique giggle all the way down the corridor.

When Drago closed the door, sealing away the last of the bright, wonderful sound, Reule moved to inspect the contents of the tray brought in earlier. It was all the decorative emblems required when he dressed in state. Two rings, chain of rank, a belt decorated with his seal in front, and several short gold chains, with small hexagonal rubies set within and his seal etched on the surface, to be affixed in his hair, also an indication of his rank. One day, he hoped this regalia would be seen by delegates who came to visit Jeth City with respect, without fear, without prejudice. He knew it was possible it wouldn’t happen in his lifetime, but he did wish it.

Drago’s silence was notable and he turned to see the attendant brushing out the handsome choice of black trousers, a black shirt, a golden vest with red embroidery, and a ruby red evening jacket that tied low enough to display both the vest and the shirt beneath. He would look all of the Prime Packleader paying his deepest respects to an honored friend and colleague. But usually Drago would be trading bits of information with him about the preparations, the goings-on in the keep that might be of interest to his Prime. Not chatty, not like Para, but informative and discriminating. His quiet was telling, and Reule became aware of his tight displeasure.