Courting Kel Read online

  “He complains about you. But under the bluster I sense a lingering…” Fumbling for the right word, Kel waved her hands. “Affection.”

  “We were friendly.” Kel’s eyebrows shot up. “Very friendly, without actually mating. Have I shocked you?”

  “A little. I think I’m more grateful than shocked. After all, had you and Storr mated, Aren could be my brother.”

  “Then your abduction has ended happily.”

  Her mother’s pleased expression set off warning bells in Kel’s mind. “How much do you know about my abduction, Mother?” Aren’s involuntary relocation had served only to sugarcoat what her mother had done to her. Wretched man and his diplomatic training!

  “Know about it? Storr and I planned it.”

  Kel surged to her feet, outrage overriding all other emotions.

  “Sit down, Keleos.”

  Years of obeying that royal command and countless others returned Kel to her seat. She realized ranting at Basalia was futile. What her mother had done, had forced her daughter to endure, Kel found unforgivable. But Kel had endured. Had found great pleasure in mating with Aren. Had even found a measure of contentment with him. Not that that excused Basalia’s betrayal.

  “I’ll not share anything about our matings, Basalia. If you must live vicariously, you’ll do so through your own imagination.”

  “As I have lived for many years, Keleos. Someday both you and Aren will thank Storr and me for our interference.”

  Kel snorted. “What I don’t understand, Basalia, is why you insist I acknowledge Aren as my husband? You never married and, if our histories contain a grain of truth, neither did any other Amazonian queen.”

  “I told you, Keleos. Both Storr and I want peace between our worlds. You and Aren are our best hope for achieving that peace.”

  “So you and Storr conspired to have us marry.” She sounded as bitter as she felt. “According to Ondrican custom and whether we willed it or not.”

  “Thinking of running away, Keleos? Where will you go? If you refuse Aren as your husband you consign him to a life of celibacy. At least until you die. Having claimed you as his wife he cannot divorce you—Ondrican law prohibits it. Here you would become an outcast, living the rest of your life without human contact.”

  “You would shun me?”

  “Not willingly. But if you force me, I shall.”

  Kel stared at Basalia for several endless moments. Having lost innumerable matches to her mother, Kel said at last, “I would like to think before deciding.”

  “Of course.” Basalia nodded her permission for Kel to leave.

  Unwilling to give her mother the satisfaction of watching her storm out, Kel schooled her features into an expressionless mask and willed her legs to a measured pace. At the door she faced her queen squarely. “Know this, Basalia. Were I not possibly pregnant I would challenge you for rule of Amazonia.”

  “Were you not pregnant, Keleos, I would accept.”

  The certainty in her mother’s voice filled Kel’s heart with dread.

  * * * * *

  Kel fumed all the way to her rooms, her anger fueled by the phalanx of armed warriors providing escort. She kept her face devoid of expression, her pace leisurely. She had made so many journeys between Basalia’s quarters and her own—always with her own unarmed guards—that she knew how to conceal her emotions. This trip, however, was made in complete silence, as if her escorts already had begun to treat her like an outcast.

  Two warriors opened her double doors. Without a backward glance she went through, continuing inside until she heard the doors shut.

  Aren, tak the gods, had yet to return from his ride. Otherwise she might have plunged her dagger in his magnificent chest and cut out his heart. That would end his celibacy… If Basalia had indeed told the truth about Ondrican law. Guanshit! Kel no longer knew who or what to believe.

  Striding to her bathing chamber, she shed her clothes—once more uncaring about who would have to clean up after her. Drew, her mind whispered, shaming her. The girl had taught her so much about respecting others. Kel would miss Drew almost as much as she would miss Aren.

  She stopped to survey her naked body in the tri-paneled mirror. As much as she loathed admitting it, her breasts did look fuller and her stomach seemed to pooch no matter how hard she tried to suck it in. On Amazonia, warriors gossiped that only well-sated women’s bellies pooched. Those same women prayed for girl babies so they could remain with the lovers who gave them so much pleasure, they no longer cared about flat stomachs. Better a sated pooch than pregnancy. Resentful of Aren’s power over her, she admitted that, like it or not, her life no longer belonged solely to her. She wanted Aren in her life.

  The thought left her shaking. Having a man—any man—as a permanent part of her life was so contrary to her beliefs, she felt rootless. Abandoned in a way she couldn’t define. Outcast. Yes, that’s how she felt, as if she had betrayed every principle life on Amazonia had taught her. As though she must live alone for that betrayal.

  But hadn’t Basalia urged her to accept Aren? Did her mother truly want a different kind of life for Kel and her people? She seemed to want exactly that.

  Drawing a shaky breath, Kel went to fill the tub.

  Someone, most likely Aren, had placed a selection of caill-scented products around the tub’s edge. Caught between resentment and gratitude that he knew her so well, she eased into the tub, relaxing against its back. The familiar scent soothed her somewhat—at least enough for her to think without wanting to throw something breakable. And celebrate when it shattered.

  “Leaving me to clean up the mess,” Kel said to herself, perversely wishing Aren was here to share his thoughts. Shrugging, she added, “I believe I know him well enough to predict what he would say.”

  She sank to her shoulders in the warm water and asked her first question aloud to an imaginary Aren. “Did you know your father plotted with my mother to bring us together?”

  His silence said he knew. She concentrated on him in her mind, willing him to participate in this ersatz conversation.

  “Why have you shackled us for the rest of our lives? Announcing to all Ondrican that we are married when I have yet to agree! Will you truly remain celibate if I refuse to acknowledge our…mating?”

  Marriage, he corrected. And yes, I will remain celibate. If you remain so stubborn.

  She ignored stubborn. “Who will raise our children, if we have any?”

  We will.

  “If I refuse to accept our marriage?”

  We will.

  Damn his self-serving confidence! “Now who’s being stubborn?”

  His silence named her.

  Chewing on her lower lip, Kel pondered her next question. “How old were you when your mother died?”

  Twenty. Young enough to miss her. I miss her still.

  She remembered him saying something similar when they breakfasted with Storr. Now he sounded even more regretful. Swallowing her own compassion, she said, “Meaning our child would miss you—”

  Or you.

  “Even if she or he never knows you?”

  Or you. Yes.

  “I never met my father,” she admitted softly, despite the secret pain she felt in her heart. Had always felt when she watched warriors with their children and their mates who elected to remain on Amazonia. Warrior and captive seemed to share a connection other couples lacked. She had often wondered if their children bound them with invisible chains.

  Aren’s continuing silence made her grind her teeth. “Nothing to say? Don’t know if our child would miss her absent parent? Don’t care?”

  You know. She heard his deep sigh as clearly as if he stood at her side in the flesh. Just as you know I care.

  “About me?”

  Aren’s soft chuckle washed over and through her. Squelching her sudden lust, she sat up and sponged cool water over her suddenly steaming skin.

  “We have little in common,” she told her imagined Aren. “How can we build a
life together?”

  We both like to read. You seem to enjoy our gardens.

  “Your gardens. Although I’d like to grow some of Caton’s herbs. Learn how to cook something more than spitted game.” Trying to cool her too-warm body, she squeezed water from the sopping sponge over the back of her neck. And recalled Aren’s fingers tracing her spine. Her breasts began to ache, longing for his touch.

  I can teach you about planting and cooking.

  “What can I teach you? If we’re to be true partners…” She sighed. “I haven’t any skills.”

  You can teach me how to fish. How to cook on an open fire.

  She grunted. “As if Ondrican is so inhospitable you’d need those skills.”

  We could do it for fun.

  “Fun,” she repeated, laughing.

  And make love a lot. We both like that.

  “Much too much.” Feeling as if he were tickling her feet, she wiggled her toes as she tried again to cool her heating body.

  “Interesting conversation, Kel, despite being one sided,” Aren said from her bathing room door then advanced toward her.

  Startled, Kel sank lower and silently cursed the bubbles for disappearing when she most needed them. Yet she could not avert her eyes from Aren’s face and body.

  His hair looked tousled as if the wind—or some other woman—had mussed it. His dark skin seemed flushed as well, leading her to wonder if Amazonia’s inhospitable climate—or another woman—had left its mark on his rugged features. On his sculpted chest, she silently amended, watching him shuck his vest and pants and advance toward her.

  “Scoot up,” he said, extending one elegant foot into the tub.

  “I’ll get out.” She tried to stand but found herself held down by his grip on her shoulders. She inched forward, allowing him to settle behind her. Her mind demanded she ignore him, finish her bath and leave the tub to him. Her body melted into his. Knowing she craved his skin against her own, his hands on her breasts, his cock pulsing between her buttocks, she relinquished control and simply savored him.

  He smelled like sun and sweat. She glanced over her shoulder. His eyes were fierce, filled with the memory of a wild ride across Amazonia’s bleak yet beautiful desert.

  “I missed you, Flame.” His hot breath feathered over her ear, his voice a feral growl. When he kissed her she tasted Honey Springs on his lips and tongue.

  “May all the gods curse Basalia,” she murmured against Aren’s lips. “The Springs—”

  “Arouse all the senses. Or so Basalia told me. Even secondhand—from my lips to yours—you feel lust building in you.”

  She found it impossible to deny what was happening to her body. She wanted to shout but heard herself purr as Aren’s hands petted her sensitive breasts as if soothing a restless cat. She wanted to pound his chest until she bloodied him with her frustration. His chest hair felt like silken threads as he rubbed against her back, the hairs on his legs sliding along her thighs as he shifted her to face him. She felt her heartbeat in every nerve ending, especially deep in her moistening pussy.

  “It isn’t fair,” she whispered, rising to slide down his rigid cock. “The Springs are sacred, its waters for the sole purpose—”

  “Of bringing recalcitrant lovers together. On our wedding day, Flame, I’ll take you there. We’ll drink the waters together. Bathe in them. Fuck in them.”

  She shivered and groaned. If the Springs could bring her to this frenzy with only Aren’s kiss, what chance had she to resist his growing power over her mind and body? Over her heart?

  “Besides, everything’s fair in love and war.”

  As if to prove it, he stood with her still impaled on his cock. She yelped, trying to cling to his neck and wrap her legs around his to steady herself. But—by all the gods!—she felt as though his cock hit the farthest reaches of her womb, he was buried so deep inside her.

  She wanted to crawl inside his skin, feel her own body under his hands and absorb how she aroused him. Feel every emotion he felt as he mated with her. Perhaps then she might understand why he was so determined she acknowledge him as her husband.

  Still joined, he lay down on her bed, her body astride his. “Sit up, Flame.”

  She did but wrapped her arms over her breasts. He captured her wrists and gently pulled her hands to her sides.

  “Don’t hide from me, Flame.”

  His eyes seemed lighter, as if candles burned behind them to welcome her into his soul. She felt as if she could see their future in those fathomless depths. Laughter and tears. Joy and sorrow. All the myriad emotions a lifetime together might bring.

  He feathered his fingers over her face—a blind man memorizing her features. She fought the urge to close her eyes and simply surrender to whatever he would do to her. With her. And yet…she wanted to watch his face as their bodies rose and fell. See his eyes darken and his jaw clench while he fought his pleasure to bring her to her own.

  “You have the most beautiful neck, Flame. So slender, so soft.” He cupped her nape, drew her down for a kiss then nipped the pounding pulse in the neck he so admired.

  In all the times they’d mated, she’d never noticed how sensitive her neck was. How much she enjoyed feeling her hair tease her skin there. The warmth his breath brought to her entire body as he kissed and licked and suckled.

  “I love your breasts,” he whispered, his breath hot and moist on her tender nipple.

  She shifted, thrusting one breast into his mouth while pressing his hand to her other.

  He cupped her mons as he suckled. She moaned, feeling a jolt of need spark between her nipple and her clit. He found the rigid nubbin and smiled up at her as if she’d told him all the secrets in her heart.

  “Would you ride, Flame?”

  Suddenly his gentleness was not enough. She craved his chest rubbing against her sensitive nipples as their bodies, slick with sweat and need, slid over each other. She wanted his cock pounding into her as they raced to completion.

  His hands on her hips guided her up and down at a slow walk. She growled in frustration.

  “I’ll give you what you want, Flame. But not now. Now I want you to remember the dream that was about our future. How Horse’s slow pace built the fires in my shaft and in your sweet cunt.”

  By all the gods, she remembered. Her pussy clenched around his cock as if to draw him deeper. But—oh!—how the slick glide of him in and out heated her core. Her climax was as gentle as the pace he set. Sweet and slow, both filling yet leaving her ready for more. Wanting more. Craving more.

  “P-please, Aren.” She ground her pelvis against his and bounced a little. “That feels so good.”

  “Yes.”

  He sounded so smug, she wanted to make him suffer all the pleasure and lust she felt in her pussy. Bracing her hands on his chest, she squirmed up and down his cock, circling her hips until both Aren and she groaned and he met her thrust for thrust. Little waves pulsed through them, stronger than her first climax but still not enough. She thought he’d spilled some cream, imagined she could feel it mixing with her own juices, but she wanted more.

  As if he shared her need, he thrust harder. Just when she thought her heart would burst before he relented, he rolled her to her back and pounded into her, taking her higher and higher. His eyes were black. His breath wheezed from between his clenched lips.

  “Kiss me, Flame.”

  She did. Their tongues dueled as he raised her legs to his shoulders and drove into her again and again. She shattered. He erupted, their shared climax leaving them too weak to move.

  “Oh…my,” she managed at last.

  “Yes.” Keeping her in his arms, he rolled to his back.

  For several long moments she listened to his heartbeat as it slowed. Felt her own heartbeat steady until it seemed they matched—point and counterpoint.

  “Which was that, Aren?”

  “Huh?”

  “Love or war?”

  Laughing, he kissed her. “Both.”

 
When they awoke the prophecy cloth covered them.

  Chapter Twelve

  Later that night, Kel woke Aren. Her fingers over his lips, she warned him to silence. Nodding, he took her hand and let her lead him through her open window. Both naked, they hugged the shadowed buildings lest the full moon reveal them to the warriors patrolling the perimeter. In the near distance he glimpsed a horse’s silhouette—a darker shadow against the moonlit sky.

  Knowing how far sound carried in near silence, he needed no warning to remain silent but obeyed Kel’s signal to mount. Settling her in front of him, he cupped her breasts, massaging them as she heeled their mount to a walk. When they crested a small hill and realized no warrior could see them, Kel stopped the horse and leaned over its neck. The sight of her round ass brought his semi-erect shaft to full attention. He’d not ask what she wanted lest she refuse him. Instead, he drove his shaft deep into her wet and willing cunt. Without a word he cupped her breasts and pulled her as upright as he could without dislodging his shaft from her slippery cunt.

  “By all the gods, Aren, all I think about is fucking you.”

  Coming from her, the word made his shaft even harder. Her delicious cunt massaged him and she wiggled her ass, all but begging him to pump harder. He heeled the horse to a trot, his groans mingling with her sighs. Urgency. That’s what he felt in her tonight. As if she had to fuck now or…what? Fuck someone else? Anyone else?

  “By all the gods, Kel,” he repeated, “you never cease to surprise me.” His voice vibrated as the horse’s stride quickened and Kel’s cunt clenched his shaft in its slick, velvet grasp. He thought of asking where they were going but his brain—what little remained—now resided in his shaft and in Kel’s juicy sheath. Sliding one hand down her body, he found her clit, already rigid and wet from her own lust.

  “Yesss. Touch me there, Aren. I need…ahhhh.”

  Her climax almost made him join her. Somehow he fought it back, sensing she could come as many times as he could refrain from coming. He had only to let the horse’s pace set the friction of his shaft to arouse her again. Yes, like that, he thought, feeling her cunt milk him as she reached another climax more powerful than the first. She sobbed his name.