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“What do you want, Bladen?” she demanded. “I am only a humble supplicant, Highness,” he taunted. “I’ve come to apply for the position of consort. I only learned of your search a short time ago, else I’d have arrived much sooner.” She made a rude sound of disbelief. “Protector, I have returned to serve you in whatever capacity you desire.” Bladen allowed one hand to drift down and over his groin, and was gratified to see her eyes fasten upon his thighs, drawn there against her will…
ALSO BY CHERRY S LOE Roman Dagger
CARESS THE DRAGON BY CHERRY SLOE
AMBER QUILL PRESS, LLC http://www.amberquill.com
CARESS THE DRAGON AN AMBER QUILL PRESS BOOK This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. Amber Quill Press, LLC http://www.amberquill.com All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the publisher, with the exception of brief excerpts used for the purposes of review. Copyright © 2003 by Cherry Sloe ISBN 1-59279-127-1 Cover Art © 2003 Trace Edward Zaber Rating: NC-17 Layout and Formatting provided by: ElementalAlchemy.com
PUBLISHED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
To Shelly, my dear friend and fellow adventurer
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CHAPTER 1
“Pompous little man,” laughed the rich, contralto voice. “Leave, and take your entourage of fools with you. Toth, show him out.” Her Most Exalted Highness, the Royal Protector Kira, waved a slim hand swathed in silks and a muscular, grim-faced sentinel advanced toward the furious suitor and his startled sycophants. Kira settled back upon her throne and resisted the impulse to shove a dagger between Prince Salin’s beady black eyes. Prince Salin was not ready to depart. “This is outrageous, protector.” The tips of the man’s elaborately curled moustache flopped as he was shoved backwards toward the bronze-wrapped doors at the rear of the audience hall. “I protest this shoddy treatment!” He slapped ineffectively at Toth’s huge hands. “You and your tiny monarchy will regret the day Prince Salin was ejected from the palace like a commoner!” He twisted away from the burly bodyguard’s hands and huffed through the doorway, attendants bobbing along behind like colorful 1
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bows on a bouncing kite string. Kira listened to his piercing complaints echoing off the stone corridors and wished she could escape to her private antechamber for a moment of peace. She anticipated there would be a roaring fire and a pitcher of frost wine waiting. Peace, quiet, solitude, and above all, no more meetings with irksome suitors. She took a calming breath, and resolved to end the interviews with all haste. Salin was among the least repugnant of the applicants she’d had that day, and he made her skin crawl. Kira shuddered at the thought of taking him to her bed, feeling his soft hands groping her breasts, his hairy body thrusting into her own. She shuddered again. “Badly done, Kira,” observed a quiet voice from beside the delicate throne. A small, wizened woman of undeterminable age sat upright on a well-padded chair, her hands resting upon a knobby walking stick. “We need an alliance with Prince Salin’s government. I fear your imprudent burst of temper has destroyed any chance we ever had of gaining their goodwill.” Kira sighed heavily. “I know, Aunt Ave,” she agreed. “But I will not prostitute myself and this kingdom for the son of a minor dignitary.” She shook her silk-shrouded head and felt ire rise. “Did he really think that I would choose him because”—her voice changed to mimic Salin’s effete simper—“his superior, male mind could remove the weight of rule from my frail shoulders?” She made a disgusted noise. “The Law of Consort is so foolish, so narrow-minded! Having to interview each candidate, no matter how obviously unsuitable, is absurd. What were our founders thinking?” She threw her hands wide with exasperation. “I cannot believe you ever managed to find a suitable companion.” The old lady nodded. “Your uncle was an exceptional consort indeed, but you do not have time to spend in a leisurely hunt for the perfect mate. The founders’ charter is quite clear. You must choose a consort within the span of this moon or the Dragon Throne and five 2
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hundred years of peace will end. “The Outer Kingdoms would throw their ancient differences aside and band together in a heartbeat for the chance to steal our country’s riches. We cannot allow that, no matter the cost.” Ave smiled sadly, a fine network of lines deepening around her bright blue eyes. “If only your sister were alive…” “But she’s not, Aunt,” Kira retorted bitterly. “Now here I am, forced into an ill-fitting role and making mistakes at every turn.” “Try to hold your temper, youngling, and you’ll do just fine.” “We’ve been sitting here all day, and I, for one, am ready to expire of boredom.” Kira sat up straight. She called out to the massive guard. “Toth, I will hold no more audiences today. Tell the rest of the supplicants I am tired and wish to rest.” Heedless of the look of exasperation that flew between Aunt Ave and her chief bodyguard, Kira unfastened the heavy layers of mourning cloth that surrounded her face and head. “I cannot bear to wear this thing any longer.” She peeled off the last piece and stuffed the allenveloping veils under the throne. “There!” she pronounced with childish satisfaction. “Wearing mourning veils for more than four hours is pure torture.” The chill of the spacious chamber felt deliciously cool upon her hot skin. She rubbed the bridge of her nose with two fingers and tried to attain a state of calm. “Unbind your hair, Kira. It looks uncomfortable,” suggested Aunt Ave. With a grateful nod, Kira shook her heavy braid of silver-white hair loose from its confining clasp at the nape of her neck, and stretched her long legs. For comfort’s sake, she had chosen to wear her soft pale hunting leathers instead of the split skirt normally favored by the women of her kingdom. She smiled to herself, remembering how her sister’s advisors despaired when they’d first realized she was not cut from the same feminine cloth as her older sibling. They had since 3
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adjusted to her idiosyncrasies. “I think I’ll take the hounds and go hunting for snow hare.” She could almost smell the succulent meat sizzling over a cooking fire. “The drifts aren’t so deep along the ridge lines…” The brassbound double doors flew open at the end of the chamber. A tall, broad-shouldered man in traveler’s clothing filled the doorway, eyes focused on the raised dais and its occupants. His boots left patches of melting snow on the stone floor and he still wore an ice-encrusted snow mask that covered the lower half of his face. “I’ve traveled for weeks to get here and I will not be denied my right to petition.” He spoke quietly, but his low voice echoed the length of the audience chamber. He took two more long strides inside and paused, ignoring the wide-eyed attendants who hurriedly closed the door behind him. Kira stiffened. “How dare you?” she demanded, then stood and looked down on him with irritation. “The audiences are over for today and you will leave at once! I command it! Toth, get rid of this trespasser.” Her chief bodyguard advanced upon the man with slow caution. Kira was irked to realize Toth appeared less threatening when compared to the other’s considerable size and height. The intruder didn’t move, yet his stance and posture showed he was ready to react at the slightest sign of danger. He looked directly at Kira and she was startled to note his eyes were a liquid, golden bronze—the color of spiced wine. She knew those eyes. They had haunted her dreams for years. Shock and recognition froze her like a stag pinned before a wolf’s hot glare. “I did not realize the Dragon Throne treated supplicants for the position of consort so shabbily.” The amber gaze narrowed. “Perhaps the Royal Protector has so many able men to choose from that she can afford to be callous.” His voice was restrained, yet Kira could hear the anger bubbling 4
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beneath it like hot lava under a thin crust of earth. She felt her lips tighten in reaction to the taunt. “She does not,” her aunt answered. The elderly woman rose, leaning lightly upon her cane. “I apologize on behalf of the Dragon Throne for our ill manners.” Kira seethed, but did not contradict her elder. She kept a wary eye upon the man’s face and desperately wished she had her sinja whip at the ready. She considered her options. Aunt Ave beckoned. “Please approach, supplicant, and be welcome.” A wet travel cloak covered his clothing and hair, but Kira knew that beneath the hood, his hair would be a wavy golden-brown, shot through with bronze. His gait was easy for a traveler fresh from long days on the road. She noted his legs were long and lean, each hard muscle accentuated by form-fitting leather trousers. Her fingers itched to stroke those firm thighs again and she clenched her fists in dismay. Toth moved to a position mid-way between the outlander and the throne, his flat gaze evaluating the potential threat posed to the protector. Neutral changed to speculative as he considered the man standing before the throne. Then, shockingly, he grinned. Damnation. He knows. Kira’s heart began to pound. Soon her aunt would recognize the man beneath the traveler’s trappings. The woman was elderly, but her gaze was as sharp as a hawk’s. “Do remove your wet garments, candidate,” urged Aunt Ave. “Kira, please assist him…as is your duty.” The emphasis was clear. Gods, no. Kira’s silent plea went unanswered. Stiffly, she descended the steps from the dais to the audience floor and waited. At least she could make him meet her half way. With casual grace, he moved before her and bent down so she could unclasp the smooth, polished oval of volcanic lava and silver that joined his cloak. Kira knew exactly how to open the tricky catch on the 5
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pin. She should. She’d given it to him five years ago. Five years ago. When he’d professed his love, taken her virginity, then left like a thief in the night. The clasp slid free into her icy palms and she yanked the heavy cloak free of his shoulders. The thick wool held the spicy scent of his sweat mixed with smoke and leather. It made her body clench with traitorous recognition. “That needs to be hung properly, Royal Protector, or it will molder,” he murmured softly. “Perhaps we could adjourn to your royal bedchamber and you could help remove the rest of these wet garments?” “Curse you, Bladen Tor,” she ground out through clenched teeth. “Why have you returned? Why now?” Bladen reached behind his head, unhooked the snow guard, and let it drop to the floor. He ran his hands back through his wavy hair and grinned his predatory smile. “Isn’t it obvious, Kira? I’ve returned for you.”
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CHAPTER 2
The crack of Kira’s palm hitting Bladen’s face echoed through the chamber. He stood stock-still, the red imprint of her fingers darkening into sharp focus along his jaw line. “Perhaps we should conduct the rest of this supplicant’s interview in private,” he rasped. Lightning-quick, his hand shot out and grabbed her wrist. With a yank, he pulled her flush against his chest, immobilizing her with one arm around her waist. Kira stood head and shoulders above most women, but Bladen’s sheer mass and strength held her in place like a child. It was unthinkable. She began to struggle, trying to quell her mounting anger. He had always been strong, but now he was positively muscle-bound. “Toth!” she demanded. “Cut off his head! Hamstring him! Help me!” “I don’t think so, youngling.” Aunt Ave’s voice was at Kira’s shoulder. “Bladen Tor deserves the right to petition for your favor like 7
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any other supplicant.” Kira twisted in Bladen’s grip and gaped at her aunt with dismay. “No!” “However,” her diminutive relative continued, “due to my…hmm…frail constitution, I believe I will retire to my chambers and allow you to conduct this particular interview on your own. Toth, show Bladen to the protector’s private antechamber and lock the door behind you so they’re able to conduct business undisturbed.” Toth nodded, the slightest hint of a smile at the corner of his thin lips. Kira was stunned. “Aunt Ave.” Her voice was a thin whisper. “Please don’t make me…” “You have two hours for your interview, younglings,” her aunt’s voice was cautionary. “Make good use of your time. Oh, and Bladen— ” She paused and fixed him with a steely look. Bladen deftly avoided Kira’s jabbing knee. “Yes, Ave?” “Be sure that if you and Kira come to an agreement, it is to everyone’s mutual benefit.” With regal grace, the Dowager Royal Protector swept from the interview room. “This way, supplicant, protector.” Straight-faced, Toth motioned toward a narrow door offset by carved ironwood. He shoved it open and pointed to another, similar door opposite at the end of a short corridor. Bladen half-carried, half-dragged Kira down the corridor into the Royal Protector’s antechamber. “Toth, I’ll have your balls on my breakfast platter.” Kira’s threats were muffled by the wet leather of Bladen’s jerkin. She aimed an elbow at his groin and he twisted, denying her the tender target. “Both your balls, I swear it!” Toth snorted dismissively and shut the heavy door. The key clicked in the keyhole. * * * 8
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Bladen scanned the room, noting its unique personality and evaluating its possibilities. Kira’s chamber was small but cheery, containing a low couch draped with warm furs nestled cozily before the fireplace, a scattering of small tables and their knickknacks as well as several bookcases. The single window looked out over the mountainous kingdom in all its snowy splendor. It is good to be home again, Bladen thought. He released his spitfire prisoner as soon as Toth secured the door behind them and studied the Royal Protector Kira with growing approval and admiration. She had blossomed into the beautiful woman her youthful body had only hinted at five years before. Bladen found the changes fascinating. The silver-blonde hair he remembered running though his fingers and over his chest was long and thick, falling to her knees in a tight braid. Almond shaped eyes of brightest sapphire graced a slightly crooked, yet patrician nose. Kira’s lips were generous, though at the moment they were pressed into a thin line as she glared at him with white-hot anger. “What do you want, Bladen?” she demanded. “I am only a humble supplicant, Highness,” he taunted. “I’ve come to apply for the position of consort. I only learned of your search a short time ago, else I’d have arrived much sooner.” She made a rude sound of disbelief. “Protector, I have returned to serve you in whatever capacity you desire.” Bladen allowed one hand to drift down and over his groin, and was gratified to see her eyes fasten upon his thighs, drawn there against her will. Kira drew her gaze away. “What I desire is for you to leave this fortress and get out of my kingdom immediately,” she bit out, voice strained. “You’ve grown into a beautiful, sensual woman, Kira,” Bladen 9
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purred. “You’ll have to tell me how I compare to your other lovers.” Kira flushed a lovely pink color. “You seem to be under the delusion you’ll provide something for me to judge against,” she scorned. “I assure you, I’m out of your league now, Bladen. Maybe you should just go back to wherever you’ve been hiding these last five years and find yourself some untried girls to deflower. That seems to be your style.” Bladen gave her his lopsided grin and nodded his approval at her acerbic tongue. She had indeed grown up. The coltish, shy girl he remembered had been replaced by a fiery, confident woman. It wasn’t just those changes that fascinated him now, though. His former lover had developed in other ways as well. Bladen’s eyes feasted upon Kira’s bountiful breasts, still heaving from her impassioned attempts at escape. They were lush and firm; he felt his body swell from the hot rush of blood to his extremities. He stared, mesmerized, at the twin points of her nipples jutting through the soft wool of her thigh-length tunic. As he watched, the firm points hardened and grew stiff. He offered a wolf’s smile, and padded across the thick rug toward her. “You’ll do,” he declared with deliberately infuriating offhandedness. Kira scooped up a small stone carving from a nearby table and launched it at him like a shot from a crossbow. Bladen barely ducked in time and felt the statue graze the side of his shoulder hard enough to leave a bruise. It shattered on the door behind him, sending splinters of rock in an arc all over the floor. “You never could throw worth a damn, Royal Protector Kira,” he mocked, and began to circle the room ducking nimbly as the statuette was followed by a glass vase, a paperweight, and a book. She snatched up an oval platter formed of blown glass and cocked her arm, ready to throw. “I’ll improve my aim by smashing in your lying face!” came the fierce reply. 10
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“Not that one,” he protested. “I’ve always liked that piece.” It impacted with an earsplitting crash against the wall behind his head. “You little brat!” he shouted. She was out of throwing ammunition. Kira retreated backwards, past the warm fireplace and fur-shrouded leather couch, her path taking her into the corner of the room furthest from him. She bumped into a cabinet case holding old pieces of armor and stopped, waiting. “We need to talk, Kira,” Bladen urged. “It can be now, or later, after we’ve made up for five years of lost fucking.” She whispered something he couldn’t quite catch. “Make your choice, little snow cat,” he ordered, moving within arm’s reach. “Our time is short and my staff is long.” “After I finish with you, Bladen Tor, the only words you’ll say to me will be ‘mercy,’” she said, swinging one arm out from behind her back. Too late, Bladen saw the silvery rod with its five deadly filaments. A sinja whip, hereditary weapon of the Dragon Throne—and in the hands of an angry master. The weapon made its singsong music as the whip strands whistled through the air toward him. Bladen tried to leap back, but it was too late. Three of the lethal fibers snaked around his upper body, pinning his arms to his sides, the other two wound round his neck, clamping off his air supply. Valiantly, he tried to tense his arm and neck muscles to buy himself an extra finger-width of room, but her aim was true. Kira jerked hard on the sinja whip’s handle, dragging him down to his knees. Bladen struggled, feeling his heart pound and his eyes bulge as the air left his body. “Wait…Kira…” he managed to gasp, but a whirling blackness closed in upon him and he collapsed to the floor. The last thing Bladen saw was a satisfied, predatory smile on Kira’s lovely lips 11
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as she knelt down beside his body, hunting dagger in hand.
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CHAPTER 3
Bladen lay naked on the soft rug, his skin burnished bronze in the firelight’s glow. Kira crouched at his side and stared at his glorious display of perfection with growing hunger. This was the first time she’d ever had the opportunity to see her former lover completely unclothed, and she meant to take full advantage of the situation while it lasted. The flickering light threw playful shadows across the angles and planes of his body, drawing her gaze to the two perfect male nipples that graced the swell of his chest. Unbidden, her hand drifted to brush the tip of one flat oval. To her surprise, the tip tightened and contracted. Bladen shifted and a shudder ran through his muscular frame. She quickly checked his bindings. Hands and legs were still bound tight. Last loop around the throat, loose… for the moment. The detached cords from her sinja whip had been put to further practical use. His feet were bound to two hearth rings while his hands were tied to the base of the fur-covered couch. The position was vulnerable, revealing all, and she couldn’t help but wonder what touching his body 13
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would feel like after five, long years. Curiosity aroused, Kira placed a tentative hand on his ankle, feeling the steady pulse beneath the flesh and bone, the warmth of the fire in the heat of his skin. Emboldened, she slid her fingertips higher, drifting along Bladen’s muscular calf with its wiry male hair and on up to the bend of his knee. The soft tendons were bent slightly, and she traced their outline up and around the curve of his bent leg. A slight ridge in the skin of his leg drew her close scrutiny, and she saw it was a jagged scar, not long healed. Without thinking, she caressed it, feeling its path. There would be many others, she realized. Her journey continued over the muscled power of his thighs and on to the curve of hip that cradled his half-aroused manhood. That perfect slope of skin beckoned, and Kira leaned closer to place her lips against his groin. She inhaled, smelling his musky scent. Her tongue darted out, flickering along the smooth slant of muscle. He tasted of spice and salt, a uniquely male flavor that made her quiver. She felt dampness spread between her thighs. A movement drew her focus to his cock and she realized with a shock that he was now fully aroused. Swaying slightly, his turgid rod pulsed with blood and heat. It was smooth and swollen, jutting up from the thick nest of dark brown curls, rampant along the curve of his belly. Kira shot a quick look at Bladen’s face. His eyes were closed, his breathing still deep and steady. She bit her lip, pushed an errant lock of silver hair away from her face and decided. Nestling in between his open legs she bent, allowed the silken tip of his cock to brush the curve of her cheek. It throbbed against her skin and Bladen’s hips twitched. Encouraged, Kira placed her lips against the soft head and took him into her mouth. The head was wide and rounded, pleasingly heavy. She ran her tongue gently around the tip, then found the curve between the edge and the shaft and explored that as well. Bladen made a noise somewhere between a moan and a shout. “Gods,” he moaned. “Kira, you must release me.” His voice was 14
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hoarse, squeezed tight. Kira looked up the long line of his torso and met his fevered amber gaze. Deliberately, she sucked harder at his shaft, allowing her tongue to flicker just beneath the head. With her free hand, she caressed and cupped his testicles, feeling their hard softness, the shifting of his balls like liquid stones between her fingers. His buttocks clenched and lifted off the floor. He writhed beneath her gentle touch. Bladen’s arms reached for her, the whipcord muscles emphasized by the light sheen of sweat that had broken out upon his body. He was brought up short by the unbreakable strength of the sinja cords. He twisted and thrashed to no avail. Kira ran her tongue down his sleek length then took one of his testicles into her mouth with delicate precision. A strangled cry burst from his mouth. She licked gently and used one finger to stroke the fine line of skin that separated his fragile sacks from his anus. Again, his spine bowed upward. Her mouth moved back to suck rhythmically on his rock-hard cock. Her fingers encircled his testicles and caressed the swollen root of his desire. He resisted… for a moment. Then, with another shuddering cry, she felt him ripple and spill his seed in a long moment of release. Kira sat up slowly and looked into Bladen’s languorous eyes. She swallowed. “Now we can talk,” she said.
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CHAPTER 4
“Talk, hell,” he shouted. “You raped me!” “Raped or seduced?” she countered swiftly. “Remember, Bladen, I asked you that same question five years ago.” “That was different,” he replied sullenly. She snorted and wiped her mouth delicately on the sliced remains of his shirt. “Different because you were a man seducing an innocent, young woman or different because I was only Kira, childhood friend and not Kira, Royal Protector?” Bladen glared and said nothing. “Why did you leave afterwards, Bladen?” Kira asked quietly. She rose, crossed to a black oak table against the wall, and unstopped the bottle of wine that waited. After breathing in the bouquet and finding it met with her approval, she swallowed directly out of the bottle. Ignoring the two waiting goblets, she took the fruity liquor back to the warmth of the fireplace and sat on the floor, leaning against Bladen’s bare hip. 16
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He made an annoyed sound at her boldness. “Tell me,” she urged softly and offered him a drink from the bottle. He grunted, shook his head, and muttered something that sounded like a particularly vile curse. Kira propped the bottle against his leg and stood. With a quick movement, she unlaced her leather hunting trousers, pulled them down around her calves and kicked them off into a corner of the room. Clad only in her silken thong, she swung one long leg over Bladen’s waist and nestled her whisper-clad bottom firmly against his groin. With a smile of pure devilment, Kira took another sip from the bottle and wiggled her buttocks against his rapidly stiffening staff. “Tell me,” she advised again. “When did you become so fond of torture?” Bladen demanded roughly, yanking desperately on his bonds. “I’ve had five years to think about what I’d like to do to you if I had you at my mercy, Bladen. Don’t you think that gives a girl the opportunity to become creative?” Her laugh was deliberately low and seductive. He stilled, eyes hooded and appraising. “Tell me, Bladen,” she whispered. “Release me, Kira,” he bargained. “And I’ll tell you why I left and why I returned after all these years.” She paused. Rubbing against him felt so good, so sensuous. He was at her mercy…for a while, at least. She glanced at the window, trying to judge the time. Perhaps another hour to go before the “interview” was over. More than enough time to get the information she wanted from him…and give herself some pleasure at the same time. She carefully placed the wine bottle on the floor out of harm’s way. “I’m no fool, Bladen,” she murmured, reaching to untie the clasp that held her hair in its long silken braid. “As soon as you’re free, you’ll try to punish me. Probably by turning me over your knee and paddling my backside, like you used to do when we were children 17
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running around this drafty, old heap of rocks.” The tie came free and she shook her head, spilling the heavy weight of her hair around them like a living satin curtain. Bladen looked like a man who had run out of options. He turned his head to the side and closed his eyes, no doubt refusing to see her triumphant above him. Inwardly cursing and blessing him for his stubbornness, Kira allowed the fragrant strands of her hair to drift over his angular cheeks, down across his sensuous mouth and onto his heaving chest. His stomach muscles clenched beneath her thighs, and she smiled with delight and predatory anticipation. Her soft, grey, woolen tunic came up and over her head with ease, and soon it and her thong joined the trousers on the floor. Luxuriating in her nakedness, Kira stretched for the ceiling beams, a spine-twisting, back-arching stretch. Sheer bliss. A rough gasp from Bladen brought her attention back. He was staring at her breasts and stomach, captivated. “I remember the heir’s tattoo on your shoulder, but when did they give you the protector’s mark?” he demanded intensely. Kira glanced down at her stomach and the intricately inked markings that glittered along her belly and thighs. Instinctively, she tilted her head, encouraging her thick hair to slide down, concealing her abdomen. “No, don’t,” he urged. “Let me see. Please.” His golden-bronze eyes met hers without wavering. Kira tensed, her legs quivering against Bladen’s warm sides. She pulled back her hair and allowed him to study the tattooing that was the proprietary mark of the Royal Protectors of the Dragon Throne. A sleek silver-and-bronze dragon coiled up her body, its intricate scaling and detail a testament to almost one full year of pain at the hands of her kingdom’s greatest tattoo artisan. The tip of the dragon’s tail began at her right thigh, winding its way around her pelvis and over 18
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the slight curve of her stomach. The dragon’s body twisted up her torso, its serpentine head with erect spinal crest nestling on her right breast. “When?” he asked. “They started it about a year ago, as soon as my sister’s body was recovered from the avalanche site. They had to begin once it was certain I was the new protector.” Kira kept her face still. As she had been told time and again during the agony of the tattooing, protectors didn’t show pain. “I’m sorry you had to suffer.” Kira nodded. They both looked at each other for a long, silent minute. It was a moment of understanding. Bladen gave her his lopsided grin. “Don’t you think you better get fucking, Protector Kira? We’ve only got about an hour left, you know.” Kira laughed. Saw his lecherous grin and laughed again. Rolling off his body, she unfastened his neck, ankles and arms from the sinja cord. Faint red marks were the only signs of his captivity, and they’d soon fade. Bladen sat up rubbing his wrists. Kira had a suspicious thought. “Those marks aren’t very deep, Bladen,” she said slowly. “I don’t think you were really struggling at all. In fact, I think you rather enjoyed being molested by your protector.” Her voice rose with false indignation. Quick as a mountain cat, he scooped her onto the fur-piled couch and gathered her willing body into his arms. “You are correct, my protector,” he murmured, and covered her mouth with his own before she could say another word. ——— They sank into the luxurious pelts and Bladen reveled in his freedom. It had been pure hell waiting for her to gather the courage to ride him, but when she’d sucked his aching cock with that hot, wet 19
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tongue of hers… He growled softly, remembering, and bent his attention to her swollen, parted lips. He drank her kisses like rare wine, savoring each one, making it linger. When she made little, humming sounds of pleasure, he showed her the heady sensation of his tongue dancing against hers. Bladen caressed the soft globes of her breasts, rubbing his calloused thumbs over the rosy, peaked nipples. He felt them contract and jut forward in a silent plea for more, even as his own had just minutes before. Bending, he suckled and laved one sweet peak until she was gasping and arching beneath him. He moved to the other, licking, sucking, then biting gently at the long, soft nipple. Kira bucked upwards, mouth open in a silent cry of pleasure. Her hands buried themselves into his thick, wavy hair and clasped him tightly against her bosom. “More, Bladen, please more,” she begged, white-blonde hair swirling over his back and shoulders like a sensuous cloak. He was only too ready to oblige her pleas. Gently, he half-reclined her against the back of the couch and then straddled her waist. His penis was swollen, engorged, the smooth tip a dark reddish-purple against the lighter flesh of the shaft. He guided her hands so she grasped him firmly. “Rub me between your tits, Kira,” he rasped. “I want to feel those beautiful breasts against my cock.” She eagerly guided him to the sweat-slicked cleft between her pale, soft bosoms. He leaned forward against her, feeling the heat of her hands, directing his eager thrusts, and the perfect smoothness of her breasts, stroking him from beneath with their warm embrace. The curls of his short hairs rubbed against her torso, tugging gently and bringing added erotic sensation. Again and again he thrust through that perfect valley, short grunts of pleasure issuing unbidden from his mouth. 20
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Kira tilted her chin and when his next thrust came, her parted lips were waiting to caress the end of his shaft. Her hands slid up and down with heated friction as her teasing lips and tongue pulled and plucked the head of his cock. Bladen realized his control was coming to an end. Kira’s enthusiasm would milk his seed from him at any moment. Sliding down her taut belly, he eased her flat onto her back with a terse, “Hold fast.” Blue eyes dilated wide with pleasure and anticipation. She relaxed into the soft furs. Bladen spread his protector’s legs wide, running strong hands along her sleek sides, over the glittering arc of the dragon tattoo. He slid his hand between their bodies and touched her most intimate place. One long finger began to stroke her sensitive flesh, feeling the slick dampness that pearled over the soft pink folds. She gasped. Tossed her head against the furs. He slid one finger inside of her then began to stroke her slowly. “Oh, Bladen,” Kira moaned. Her buttocks clenched. The spicy scent of their lovemaking added a heady perfume to the air. He breathed deeply, intoxicated by the fragrance. “So wet, so tight,” he said hoarsely. Another finger joined the first, stretching her wide and bringing another spasm of moisture from deep within her body. “I need your cock inside me, Bladen,” she gasped. “Now.” It was time. He gave one last stroke with his fingers and pulled out, moving above her. Paused. Looked at the wild beauty beneath him and felt his heart ache in time with his rod. Bladen brought his shaft to her soft, wet curls then thrust forward, embedding himself to the hilt in her warmth. She was so tight, so hot. He withdrew, pulling his turgid cock out to the very entrance to her pink folds and sank back inside, feeling the rippling of her body as it moved to meet and clench around him. Again and again they thrust 21
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against one another, moving in the most intimate of dances. Kira quickened beneath him, moaning, calling his name as she dug fingers into the broad muscles of his back. Her hips thrashed beneath him, whipping his desire into a frenzy. He felt her shudder and prayed he could hold back his own orgasm until she found her own. A low cry sounded from her lips—a sweet sound of release and ecstasy. Gladly, he gave himself over to the hot rush of heat and the pull of her hot, slick folds. He was coming, and with an almost painful rush, he felt himself spill into her, the burning arc of his climax fierce and satisfying. Whispering her name, he thrust once more, then collapsed atop her body, spent. They lay for a moment, chests heaving, trying to gulp air back into oxygen-starved lungs. The crackle of the fire and the gentle hiss of snow against glass proved an apt accompaniment to their lassitude. Fire and ice. Male and female. Consort and protector. Finally, he rolled onto his left side and cupped her against his chest, her buttocks nestled into his groin. His right hand caressed the length of the extraordinary work of art that decorated the perfection of her body. He stroked one gentle hand from the tip of the dragon’s tail up to its burning golden eyes. “I left because your sister asked me to,” he said, and felt Kira tense against him. He waited, and when she made no reply, he continued. “She knew we had become intimate, and felt that I was too inexperienced, too untried to be your lover. He sighed and continued stroking her sweat-dewed skin, willing her to understand. “Her edict stated I had to leave for a period of at least three years—” “You’ve been gone for five!” Her voice held worlds of anguish but she remained in his arms. “How can I believe you? You said you loved me then, but you left without a word, without even a note of explanation.” Bladen winced and shook his head. “I thought you knew…that your 22
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sister had told you of her plans. That’s why I was so angry when I returned today. I was sure I had disappointed you in some way and you no longer shared my affections and had asked your sister to send me away.” He grew still, voice pained. “When I saw the anger…the betrayal in your face once you recognized me, I realized how wrong I had been.” “Five years lost to us,” Kira mourned. “What a waste.” He caressed her taut stomach. “No, not entirely. I traveled to the far reaches of the Outer Kingdoms and learned how to be a warrior—how to fight and how to win.” Kira made a disbelieving snort. “You knew how to fight. You grew up in this castle and trained with the finest soldiers in the kingdom.” Bladen kissed her soft neck then nuzzled the back of her shoulder. “There’s theory, and there’s practice, protector,” he replied. “I left an untried youth. I returned a man.” He rolled her over to face him. “Maybe your sister had a premonition of her own death, Kira. Perhaps she knew that you’d one day need a strong consort to help you hold and defend the Dragon Throne. Maybe she saw I needed to become more than what I was.” He cupped Kira’s cheeks with both hands and looked deep into her lovely blue eyes. “You need a consort, my love, and I want to be that man, here by your side.” Kira leaned forward and covered his lips with her own. They kissed softly, eyes closed, and breathed in the scent of each other’s skin. She smiled against his mouth. “Are you sure that Prince Salin wouldn’t be a better choice?” Bladen growled playfully and gathered her close. “I am your only choice, Royal Protector Kira.” He laid hot, passionate kisses on her shoulder, over the mound of her breast and rosy nipple, then down the sweet slope of her hips. “I hope your Aunt Ave gives us a few more hours of negotiation time,” he murmured as he reached the sweet juncture of her thighs. 23
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Kira laughed then gasped as his tongue dipped into the soft mound of her curls. “I’m the Royal Protector, darling Bladen. It shall be as I command.”
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CHERRY SLOE
Cherry Sloe is the sizzling pseudonym for award-winning author Bryndis Rubin. “Cherry” decided that it was time to answer her readers’ demands and give them stories that really steamed—erotic fantasies where love has no limits. “Caress the Dragon” is her first erotica released in the Amber Kisses imprint from Amber Quill Press. Cherry Sloe’s email address is:
[email protected]
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