The Devil's Concubine (19 page)

A deathly silence fell as the men began to exchange baffled glances.

“The tribes of the man children spread upon this land like locusts, and they have

united for the first time in known history with only one goal in mind--to destroy the clans of the man beast.”

“We are far stronger!” someone bellowed from the crowd below. “It does not

matter that they outnumber us.”

“It
did
not matter,” Talin corrected the man. “Solly was brought down by a single spear. They have gathered wizards to their cause who have concocted powerful potions against us. You must use the utmost caution when we go into battle and guard

yourselves, else we will find death, not victory.

“I will need couriers--ten in all--to travel to the kings of the other clans and warn them before it is too late. The rest of you are to begin preparations for war.”

“Are there not twelve clans?” someone called.

“Not any more,” Talin retorted grimly. “The clan of the wolf is no more.”

* * * *

Talin’s thoughts were dark as he climbed the stairs to his own chambers. He had

not liked to risk demoralizing his men with such an announcement, but it could not be helped. It would have been far worse to say nothing, for they were not accustomed to worrying overmuch about being wounded in battle. There was always the chance that a

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stray bolt or spear might pierce a throat or brain and cause too much damage to recover completely, or, in hand to hand combat, that they might have their head cloven from their body by a sword, but these were not things that happened often.

He knew his men. If he had said nothing, the youngest and wildest among them,

particularly those who had not seen battle before, might have felt compelled to display their stupidity by seeing just how many wounds they could survive to brag about.

Despite his distraction, he had not failed to notice the subtle changes in the palace that indicated Aliya had indeed accepted her role.

Either that, or she had decided to annoy him by changing everything about, he

thought wryly, for she had had the great hall completely rearranged--which he might not have noticed except for the fact that he’d run into furniture that had not been in his path before.

He still had not decided whether or not he should tell her her father had disowned

her when he reached the door to his suite. Abruptly recalling the look of devastation on her face when she had asked about her father, he decided against it. He could think of no reason why she needed to know, and many why she shouldn’t be told.

She was his concubine. He could simply refuse to allow her to see her father.

She would be angry, but he thought that she would get over that. He wasn’t so certain she would get over the discovery that the father she loved did not love her.

He was almost surprised to discover that the latch opened the door readily.

She was seated in the tub, bathing, and he stopped abruptly, feeling his throat

close as he stared at the foaming water that revealed almost as much of her body as it concealed. With a strenuous effort, he dragged his gaze from her breasts to her face.

Without even glancing at the maids attending her, he bellowed, “Out!”

Removing the tunic he wore, he strode toward the tub without waiting to see if

they complied to the order or not, and discarded his loincloth, climbing into the tub with her.

She uttered a gasp, her eyes widening as he stepped into the tub with her.

The water crested the edge of the tub and washed over in a great wave as he

settled, drawing shrieks of dismay from the maids that hadn’t moved quickly enough.

Ignoring them, and the slamming of the door behind them, Talin reached for Aliya and

dragged her against him, covering her surprised mouth at the same moment.

As welcome heat surged through her blood, Aliya melted against Talin, entwining

her arms around his neck to keep her water slick body from slipping away from his. The hungry possessiveness of his kiss wiped every thought from her mind. Only a dizzying need that quickly became a conflagration remained as her skin slipped along his in

delightful friction and their bodies bumped together.

The heat of his mouth was nearly searing as he stroked his tongue possessively

along hers and then coaxed her tongue into his own mouth, sucking it. Her body quaked at that, went up in flames.

She was shaking all over when he broke the kiss at last and moved his mouth

along the tender skin of her throat and neck. His hands skated from her waist to her hips and down, cupping her buttocks and bringing her up onto his thighs. The tips of his

fingers delved her cleft from behind as he lifted her against him. When she settled again, she felt his engorged member where his fingers had been moments before, gliding along her cleft with insistent pressure. Gasping, she tightened her arms around his neck,

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squeezing her eyes closed to hold the pleasure more tightly to her as he guided her in a slow rocking motion that touched off tremors of exquisite sensation.

Lifting her again after only a moment, he guided the head of his cock into the

mouth of her sex, bearing down on her hips until her body began to slowly settle over his.

She gasped, struggling to adjust to the intrusion.

He dragged her face down, kissed her lips briefly and then lifted her again,

fastening his mouth over one nipple and sucking it until her belly began to clench and unclench around the flesh he’d embedded in her, kneading his cock rhythmically.

Uttering a groan, as if he was in pain, he released her nipple and surged upward,

carrying her with him.

Aliya gasped, her eyes flying wide as his hands settled beneath her buttocks.

Stepping from the tub, he moved to the bed, dropping her on the edge and thrusting

again. A shiver went through her. She lifted her legs to wrap them around his waist and ground herself against him as she arched her head back. He caught her thighs, lifting her legs to his shoulders instead and thrusting again, deeper this time--deeper than she

thought possible. His cock slid inside of her then, slamming almost painfully into her womb.

Cutting shards of pleasure sliced into her as he began pounding into her at a

furious pace. The cool air barely tempered the feverish heat enveloping her skin in a rising conflagration. Her blood raced, her breath quickened. He thrust into her, groaning with pleasure which she echoed.

He ground against her clit, making her nerve endings riot with pleasurable waves

of sensation. She moaned, clutching his back, digging her nails into his flesh and

reveling in the feel of his powerful muscles flexing with each forceful thrust. He kissed her collarbone and neck, sucking at the delicate tendons lacing her neck, nipping at her collarbone, laving and kissing her everywhere he could reach. He crawled along her jaw with molten kisses until he reached her lips and covered them with his own. He forced her mouth wide, thrusting his tongue inside to tease and tangle with hers.

She sucked him hungrily, mindless with fervent need. His barely leashed

savagery thrilled her, making her wetter with each gliding stroke until she began to sob with need.

His pace quickened, as if sensing her distress, raising her urgency tenfold. He

tore his mouth away from her lips, grinding out her name in a rough voice.

Her body responded with equal fervor, racing upward, tightening, coiling for the

leap she knew would come. And still she uttered a hoarse cry of keen gladness and

surprise as her body began to convulse in hard waves of pleasure. He leaned over her, suckling first one nipple and then the other as the waves crested, broke and crested again.

She felt tight all over, every muscle shaking and trembling as the orgasm danced

along her nerves, retreating and advancing until she thought she would explode.

When she went limp and breathless, he withdrew slightly and allowed her legs to

slip to the floor. Before she had entirely grasped what he was about, he had rolled her onto her belly and entered her again. She gasped and arched her back, flinging her damp hair back. She gripped the sheets in fingers like claws as he began to thrust again, and her body, which had barely touched down, soared upward again in another race toward

explosive release.

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Even as she felt his body began to convulsive and his hot seed spilled into her

channel, another harder climax caught her in its debilitating grip.

“Oh, Talin,” she cried out, practically screaming his name as she collapsed

beneath him.

She was barely conscious when Talin withdrew. As her legs trembled and

threatened to give way, he scooped her up and climbed into the bed with her, sprawling half atop her.

She stroked his muscled, tense back soothingly as she caught her breath, enjoying

the warm glow that enveloped her in the aftermath of their lovemaking, enjoying the feel of his body on hers. She tangled her fingers in his soft, golden hair, luxuriating in the closeness she felt with him. It dawned on her as she began to drift lazily, however, that there had been a reason why she had lain in wait for Talin, beyond the lovely outcome she had just enjoyed.

Weary from days of little or no sleep, and completely sated, for the moment at

least, Talin was drifting blissfully toward sleep when Aliya pierced his bubble of

contentment.

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“Talin?”

“Hmmm?”

“Take me to my father,” Aliya whispered coaxingly.

With an effort, Talin lifted one eyelid and stared at her warily. He had not

expected it to come to this so soon, and he was not prepared for it. He sighed inwardly.

“No.”

She frowned. “I was not asking that you return me to my father,” she said

carefully. “My home is with you now. I accept that. It is only that … I think if I can make him understand that I am well treated, that I am willing to stay, he will be willing to consider peace.”

Talin stroked a hand down her soft, curling hair, smoothing it before twining a

dark curl around one finger. “Do you?”

The question obviously distracted her, at least momentarily. She cocked her head

questioningly.

“Accept?”

Her response was just hesitant enough to remind him of their last argument when

she had shaken him by threatening to take a lover if he took a queen--as he would

eventually have to, and he realized that he had not adequately considered the vast

differences between them. Among his own kind, acceptance of a mate was irrevocable.

Once a female had committed herself, she would not look at another and certainly would not allow another male to mate with her. As many times as he had seen the wanton

behavior of the man children, he should have realized that they felt no such binding. He supposed he had. He had simply refused to believe that Aliya was the same.

“I have said that I do.”

Talin’s lips tightened. Without a great degree of success, he tried to tamp the

anger that pricked at him. He removed his hand from her hair. “He would not believe that. He would think that I had threatened--or frightened--you into begging,” he muttered irritably. “That would only lead him to the mistaken belief that I fear him, which I do not, and he would see it as a weakness he could exploit.”

“He is not like that!” she exclaimed earnestly. “He is a man of reason. He will

see that I am … satisfied with you as my husband, and he will withdraw.”

“Accept? Satisfied?” he growled, inexplicably hurt, and angry because he was.

“Could you possibly be more tepid in your enthusiasm?”

Aliya stared at him blankly for several moments before her own anger erupted.

“He would certainly know I was lying if I began to sing your praises!” she snapped. “He would more likely believe that my mind had snapped if I professed undying devotion for a man who had captured me and forced me to accept him!”

Talin bolted upright and got out of the bed. “I freely admit that I was wrong to

steal you from your home, but you and I both know that I did not force myself upon you,”

he growled furiously. “You accepted me.”

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“I admitted that I did,” she snapped petulantly, crossing her arms over her chest.

“But you behave as if that is an insult.”

He stared at her for a long moment, too stunned to speak. Finally, uttering a

growl of frustration, he stalked away from the bed and snatched up the clothing he’d

discarded. “We are not speaking of the same thing,” he muttered.

“Well, I am certain I do not understand the fine difference!” she snapped, glaring

at him when he glanced up from trying to figure out how to get his loincloth straightened.

“You accepted me as your mate. I distinctly heard you say ‘I am yours’ and now

you speak as if you simply caved in to the inevitable because you could not avoid it.

There is a very great difference between the two and I believe if you will give it a little thought you can figure that out.”

It occurred to Talin as he slammed his chamber door behind him that he had

managed to avoid the conversation he had feared Aliya would pry from him, the truth

about her ‘dear’ father, but he found little comfort in the fact that he had spared her sensibilities while she had trampled all over his. Shrugging it off, he struggled into his tunic and stalked down stairs to join his men and watch their practice.

One had the audacity to look him over as he exited the palace and smirk.