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Authors: Dara Joy

BOOK: Rital of Proof
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Green gasped as his strong fingers clamped around her ankles and yanked her down so she was lying flat.

His sharp teeth caught fast at the back of her heel nipping roughly as his hands roughly pushed her legs apart. Slowly, on his back, he slid up between her calves. Silken strands of hair brushed her leg. She could feel his anger in the rapid, hot exhalation of his breath against her body.

His mouth clamped on the tender skin of her inner calf. The bite he administered was an exquisite blend of erotic fury.

A puff of air escaped Green's lips as she tried to yank her legs free.

Not that she actually wanted them free. She had set out to provoke him and the tournament was just beginning. The more she invoked his "submissiveness," the more furious he would become. Green was counting on her ability to know exactly how he would react. She had no doubt that she was about to fuel the blaze-dragon out of control.

She also knew that she was the only one who could ever do this to him.

Jorlan had made himself vulnerable to her. Such vulnerability denoted a high level of trust. His perception of this would be a violation of that trust. She prayed that in time he would realize that his trust in her was inviolate. What she was doing now would hopefully protect them both in the future. It was the
only
thing that could protect them.

His mouth worked along her legs in quick heated bites, sharp presses of his lips. His tongue slid against the backs of her knees. Then he dragged his open mouth behind her thighs, the sting of the edges of his teeth scraping pinpoint flicks of a needle wing. His breath was coming in short, shallow pants; already he was delving into the passion of his anger.

Green's fists caught at the material of the coverlet, squeezing it between her fingers, steeling herself for this erotic onslaught. Her heels dug into the bedding as his lips moved higher on her, trailing moistly between and behind her thighs. As he worked, his jaw purposely scraped and kneaded against the soft skin. His arms locked tightly on her legs as she pretended to attempt to twist herself free.

"I think you should release me, Jorlan," she hissed, breath catching in her throat as his teeth tugged at the soft exposure behind and under the curve. He did not respond to her directive except to spread her legs farther apart.

She felt his long hair sliding against her buttocks. Then his fiery tongue stroked a molten trail at the juncture of her legs.

"Jorlan!" Green threw her head back against the pillows, upper body arching.

Jorlan's arm tightened across her legs, pinning them to his chest. "Am I not submissive enough for you?" he rasped.

Not waiting for an answer, he spread her nether lips from beneath her and began to devour her. In front of her, his fingers tangled in her woman's curls and tugged sharply.

Green had anticipated a strong response from him; she had just not anticipated this utter surrender to his Sensitive's side. Somewhere she had read that a high Sensitive, if angered, might free fall completely into his sensual responses. Since no high Sensitive had ever been tested, the supposition was pure conjecture.

Green had wondered about the limits of his abilities. Now she knew.

Jorlan was indeed a high Sensitive.
And she had purposely provoked him.

She knew it would be best to stop this now, but it was too late. Jorlan was beyond rational choices. He would react strictly to his tactile impulses until he had played out the erotic passion brought out of him. Green closed her eyes as she reared off the bed in response to his ministrations.

His tongue insinuated itself and slid the length of the seam, swirling against the folds in a very dedicated way. The tip of his tongue wriggled up and down, dabbing the throbbing center of her desire. The hardened nub pulsed stronger and stronger.

Green bit her lip to keep from screaming out a release. She needed to hold back.

He flicked the tender, central spot, tapping strongly. A moan escaped her clenched jaw. Jorlan craved more than that from her. Strong, long fingers dug into the front of her thighs. With steady pressure, he curved her back into him—so he had the exact access he wanted.
Full access.
His chin rubbed teasingly into her mound, grinding against her opening.

The intense, rotating pressure—an unbearable pleasure—elicited the reaction he sought. Green tried to break his hold, but the odd position made it impossible. He had the upper hand. In more ways than one.

Molten, satin lips covered her entirely. A ruthless kiss of passion. Then he suckled sharply—right where she throbbed the most.

Green screamed. Her entire body convulsed. Without thought, she covered his hand on her thighs, clawing desperately at him, trying to get him to free her. He pressed his tongue inside her and
stroked.
With each slick plunge, he propelled her internal spasms on and on.

The shudders racked her over and over. She had never experienced anything close to this ecstasy in her life. How long could he keep her like this? As long as he desired, she realized.

Hot lips skimmed over her buttock, sultry and wet. A deep groan of unbridled hunger etched along her skin, half plea, half conqueror.

At the base of her spine, Jorlan pressed his mouth, drawing tightly on the delicate curve. Caught fast in his grip, Green emitted a soft cry of wanting.

Swiftly, he shimmied up her back, mouth recklessly laving her backbone, her shoulder blades. She felt him slide totally under her now; the damp skin of his chest grazing provocatively along her spine. Arousing with every contact.

When his lips reached the back of her neck, his arm came around her to firmly hold her on top of him. She squirmed wildly in his embrace.

"Is this submissive enough for you, my Marquelle?" His low voice was rough, breathless.

The tiniest of smiles curved Green's lips. Despite her demeanor, she was still the one in control. She deliberstely replied, "Not quite."

Jorlan's pupils flared anew.

"No? Perhaps I can be more submissive, then,
just for you."
He bit her shoulder before flipping them both over on the bed.

He was now on top of her.

Green did not like this position. She was facedown on the bed, while his hips rode snugly against her buttocks. She had never heard of a man being allowed to take such a position! She had never imagined how vulnerable it made a woman.

Green turned her face to the side and bucked against him, grazing his erection with her behind. "Let me up!

He smiled humorlessly against her neck. "It seems to me I asked the same of you once. I do not regret what you did—only the manner in which you did it. Perhaps you will feel the same...
later."

He grabbed her hands and pinned them over her head.

"This is unlawful—you must obey me!"

He laughed low against her throat. The vibrations of the sensual drawl skittered along her spine. "I do not think a Marquelle who is so unconcerned with proprieties as you are will sound the alarm. It may look bad to your friends," he whispered provokingly.

It was good Jorlan could not see her expression i that moment. For it was an expression of near-victory.

"You will be punished for this."

"Will I?" His wiry curls brushed against the rounded globes of her backside as he ran his member back and forth along the crease of her buttocks. A tiny moan issued from her lips.

"By you, Green?" He stroked against her again. "Are you sure?"

Green sucked in her breath. This was getting perilous!

His sensuality was awakening a dangerous need within him to both conquer and enslave himself. The wild erotica of a Sensitive.

"Try me," she responded as coldly as she could.

"I intend to." His manhood, feeling like razor rock encased in Ramagi silk, glided possessively over her back. He rose up on her and traced the back of her neck in the same manner, deliberately letting the pulsing tip of his member skim over the edge of her earlobe and along her jaw line.

"What the rut-bid do you think you're doing?"

"I'm not sure." He wrapped her hair around his wrist and yanked her head back toward him.
"But I like it."
His mouth slammed down on hers. He feasted on her. Wild. Inflamed. Released.

Green knew she was walking a fine line as to what would be viewed as acceptable behavior by the Slice. In firing up Jorlan, she was running the risk of pushing him into areas that might be better left unexplored by a man whose nature was so rebellious. That was, if she had the choice. She did not.

"What do you hope to gain by this?" Green spoke around his fevered kisses.

"The question is: What do
you
hope to gain by it?"

Does he know what I am doing?
Green gasped as his tongue forced its way between her lips and penetrated her mouth.

Then gasped anew when he immediately penetrated her from behind. He was full and throbbing inside her, buried to the hilt! She cried into his mouth.

Releasing her wrists, his arms tightened about her narrow waist to pull her up, tightly into his groin. Green arched and screamed at the same time, her hands
ineffectually pulling at the strong, muscled arms that embraced her. His mouth slid off of hers to feverishly lave the side of her face and jawline.

He groaned a hot ragged breath next to her ear, pressing even more into the wet canal. Wildly, he buried his face in the strands of her hair, inhaling its scent, biting the edge of her lobe right through the mussed-up tresses.

Green had never felt such penetration. It was deep, dark, erotic.

This was what she wanted from him—a Sensitive's uncontrollable desire.

Jorlan was enslaved by his own passion; he surged, Strong and deep. Powerful and fast. Lifting to her cadence, her sighs, her cries of "more."

"Yes, yes, yes... " Green could feel the ends of his hair flicking her shoulders, the strands shifting along her spine. He rose up higher on her, arching his back to grind into her. Again and again. In that moment he suddenly reminded her of a Forus arc storm. Elemental, raw. An explosion of mysterious force, gathering strength out of nowhere until everything was touched by its magnetism.

Under such a storm. Green clutched the sheet in her hands. "Come, my blaze-dragon! Come to me now!"

Jorlan moaned incoherently and leaned completely over her to bite the edge of her breast. "Green," he rasped.

The man was lost. It had to be now. Her provocations had held back whatever special sense he had, but it wouldn't much longer. She rotated her hips as she pressed sharply back on him. Her hands encircled his wrists, which he was using for leverage next to her head.

He groaned long and low—somehow holding back. This was not the time to hold back! "Jorlan," she croaked, "show me your ecstasy... !"

Eyes closed, he shuddered violently. Still, he held back. Sweat trickled down his brow. He rested his damp forehead on the curve of her shoulder.

"I know,"
he murmured raggedly. "I know what you are doing."

Green inhaled unevenly. He knew? Rut-bid!

"What did you do?" he rasped.

Green turned her head and stared into the pale eyes so close to her own. What had she done? She had used his Sensitive's nature against him. The very gift that warned him of her state, enslaved him to it.

Yet he also was a man of his own determinations. She thought it over. Which would ultimately rule him, his logic or his Sensitive's nature?

Green ceased her motions as well and calmly viewed him over her shoulder. A She-Lord in her prime and very much in control. Of her house and of herself. "It is your call, Jorlan. Do whatever you will."

He closed his eyes and the emotion that ripped through him was sublime agony.

With a raw groan he sank into her. He pounded against her forcefully, pulling them both suddenly higher and higher. It was Green's victory. As he rode faster, harder, stronger within her, giving her the child she needed for the continuation of her house, Marquelle Tamryn carried him on the crest of hot desire.

When he yelled his release, he was the captive. Her scent was all over him.
In him.
He had her in his hold, yet it was she who held him.

His Sensitive's nature was hostage to the emotion it craved.

Her love.

 

"You played me."

"As you played me?" Green got out of bed and reached for her robe. "I know there are things you are not telling me, Jorlan. Yes, I played you. I simply did it better than you. You had a choice. You could have stopped. You didn't."

An angry gust of air exited his nostrils. "A choice! You used my Sensitive's passion against me!"

No, I used it for you.
But she could not tell him that. "I met you in a challenge. You lost."

He sat up in bed and furiously kicked the entwined coverlet off his legs.

Green raised an eyebrow. "Take heart. Perhaps you are not as virile as you surmise." He threw her a look.

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