Chapter 49
Chapter
Forty-Nine
W e remain on the floor, me tucked against Nemeth’s chest. I think we’re both far too tired to get up for a while, so he runs his fingers over my skin, petting me, and at some point, I fall asleep.
I wake up to Nemeth picking me up off the floor and bridal-carrying me into our room. “I can walk,” I tell him, yawning. “You can put me down. I’m not that tired.”
“You are very tired,” he argues. “But more than that, you are my mate, and I am going to carry you to our bed on our mating day.”
I can’t fault that logic. Plus, Nemeth is nice to snuggle against, his chest warm and bare and best of all, mine. He sets me down in the bed and I reach for him, only to have him kiss my fingertips and move away. He gets a bowl of water and a towel, and as I recline sleepily in the bed, washes himself.
And, shameless woman that I am, I watch him. There’s something so satisfying about seeing his hand move over his cock. Of his hard features that ease slightly when he looks at me, as if I’m all the softness in his world. He rinses the towel off and then moves to my side, parting my thighs and wiping me down with gentle, tender care.
Once Nemeth is satisfied that I’m clean of his seed, he sets the bowl aside and unlaces the front of my corset, helping me undress. Instead of our normal sleeping attire, he pulls my chemise off of me and studies my body, now as naked as his. I want to preen at his hot gaze, because it’s clear he likes what he sees. “It’s early for bed,” I tease as he climbs into bed beside me. “Are you that tired?”
“It’s the day of my mating.” He slides into bed next to me and props up on his side, watching me with a hungry, avid gaze. “Should we not spend the day in bed?”
Again, I cannot fault his logic.
I immediately pull him against me, sliding an arm around his neck and pulling him down for a kiss. “This has been quite the wedding day.”
His arms move around me and he hauls me against him, pressing my breasts to his chest. He rolls me onto my back and brushes his nose against mine. Our lips meet in a brief kiss and then he scrapes his teeth against my mouth, the moving a mere graze but oh so sensual. “And are you content?”
“Mmm. ‘Content’ implies that I’m done with you. And I haven’t finished savoring .” I kiss him back, letting my tongue flick against his. I’m tired, but at the same time, a warm, hungry pleasure is coursing through my veins. I wouldn’t mind another, far more leisurely bout of bedsport with Nemeth. “You’re always talking of savoring, after all.”
“I am,” he agrees, chuckling. He kisses his way across my jaw and then moves down my chest, toward my breasts. “I would love the chance to savor these.”
“Now’s your chance,” I joke. “I hear their owner just got married.”
“What a lucky male to mate such a prize.” He cups one breast and buries his face in my cleavage. “Gods have mercy.”
I shiver with delight as he kneads my breasts, stroking my fingers over his horns. It feels strange for my lover to not have a bit of hair upon his body, but I like the way Nemeth looks. I love the strong line of his nose and the harsh angles of his cheeks and brow. I even love his strangely fluid-looking horns that feel so hard to the touch. I’m so focused on caressing them that I lose track of what Nemeth is doing to my breasts until he takes the tip of one into his mouth and sucks on it.
With a whimper, my attention is solely his once more. “Nemeth!”
He flicks his tongue over my nipple, teasing circles around it. “How is it that you taste so good, milettahn ?”
I open my mouth to reply, but all that comes out is a needy groan as he sucks on the tip, hard. I arch against his devouring mouth, needing more of it, squirming in the bed under him as he ministers to my breasts.
“Gods, I’m glad we’re married,” I pant. “You’ve made me wait long enough.”
“I would have waited a thousand years for you,” he tells me, voice husky with emotion as he presses a kiss to the tip of one breast. “You are worth waiting for, Candra.”
Sweet words, and clearly from a man besotted with his new bride. I don’t truly believe him. It’s a pretty saying because he finally got to fill me with his seed. He would have said it to any woman trapped in this tower with him…
The thought is a sobering one, and I push it out of my head quickly. It doesn’t matter if I’m special or not. I’m here with Nemeth and Meryliese (or Erynne) is not. He’s mine and I’m not giving him up. “I love you,” I blurt out as he kisses his way down my belly. “I love you, Nemeth.”
He grins up at me and then pushes my thighs apart. “Shall I check to see if you can take my knot again, my sweet one?” And he runs his tongue over my sore, well-used cunt.
I gasp. It’s always so surprising to me how assertive Nemeth can be in bed for a virgin. His people must have incredible natural instincts when it comes to mating. He laps at my pussy with long, slow strokes and then spreads my folds, feasting upon my clit. I cry out, my legs folding with the intensity of sensation. “Oh gods.”
“I’m going to get your cunt good and slick so you can take my knot again, Candra. I’m going to fill you every day with my seed, until my scent is irrevocably stamped upon your skin.”
“That…that’s a lot of seed,” I breathe, whimpering as he tongues my clit with gentle circles.
“You can take it.”
Gods, why is that so damned sexy? I moan as he sucks my clit into his mouth and teases it with the tip of his tongue. He works me with his mouth until I’m crying out, and this time when he mounts me, I know what to expect. I know that his first thrust will be shallow and delicious, followed by the increasing size of his cock, until my body is straining to take him. I know that when I feel completely speared upon his size, he’s going to press further, demanding that I should take his knot deep inside me. And it’s going to be tight. And it’s going to feel like too much…until it isn’t.
This time, when he’s knotted deep inside me, he gazes down at my smaller form and smiles. It’s a triumphant sort of smile, as if he likes the sight of me stretched around him, my body taut around his invading cock. As he leans over me, he slides a hand between us and caresses my clit, his green eyes locked on mine with such a possessive stare that it steals the breath from my lungs.
I come instantly, and this time I come first.
When I wake up in the middle of the night, Nemeth’s side of the bed is empty.
At first I think nothing of it. A garderobe excursion, nothing more. But as I roll over and hug my pillow, I wait for him. Half-awake, I smile to myself and think drowsy, sultry thoughts. Maybe he’ll awaken me with his head between my thighs. Maybe I’ll wake up first and surprise him. Then again, what’s the point in waiting? I might just snag him when he returns and insist that he let me try his knot one more time.
I wonder if it would be pleasurable for him if I rode him. Only one way to find out.
I stretch in bed, deliciously sore between my thighs in ways I haven’t felt in ages. There’s nothing quite like the stretch of well-used muscles from bedsport, and I feel wondrous. The minutes slip past, though, and Nemeth doesn’t return. I frown to myself, curious. Surely he’s not touching himself in the storage room again? When I’m right here and hungry for more? It doesn’t seem like something he would do.
So, curious, I get to my feet and pad into the darkness, listening for sounds of Nemeth’s wings. I don’t take a lamp with me. There’s nothing in the darkness in the tower that can frighten me.
I’m only a few steps into the hall, my hand on the wall to guide me, when I hear Nemeth’s voice. It’s coming from downstairs, the first floor. Curious, I head in that direction, wondering who or what he could possibly be talking to at this moment. Have the other Fellians returned? Are we no longer safe?
I creep down the stairs as quietly as I can, listening as Nemeth continues to talk. I can’t make out his words, and I realize he’s speaking in Fellian. Well, he’s taught me a few words of his language in our flirty moments. Maybe I can pick a few of them out. I press my ear to the stones, listening as Nemeth’s words spill through the darkness.
Wait…was that the word for wife?
I peer around the corner, into the large chamber, and see Nemeth stands in front of the altar, a single candle flickering in front of him. He does not have his hands clasped in prayer but atop the altar itself, and his expression is troubled.
The moment I look around the corner, he sees me and goes silent, a look of guilt flashing across his face. “Candra. Milettahn. I woke you up?”
I cross over to his side, fighting back a yawn. “I woke up and you weren’t in bed. Who are you talking to?”
He looks flustered by my question. “I…the gods.”
I arch an eyebrow at his answer. “The gods? Truly? You have never been particularly religious before.”
“Yes. It seemed like a day to pray.” Nemeth strokes my cheek with his knuckle. “I am sorry if I worried you. Prayers for my people are…private things, and I wished a moment alone.”
“I understand.” I slide my arms around his waist and smile when he holds me close. I get wanting to be alone with your thoughts. “Can I ask what you were praying about? Feel free to tell me no. You did say it was private, but I am simply curious.” I gaze up at him, his face cloaked in shadows. “I heard the word ‘wife.’”
He pauses. Strokes my cheek again. His reluctance is clear. “You will not get hurt feelings?”
“Well, now you have to tell me,” I say, poking a finger into his stomach. “You can’t just approach it like that and not expect me to worry.” A new thought occurs to me and I hesitate. “Do you have…regrets? Do you feel like you made a mistake?”
“What? Never.” He bends over and cups my face, pressing a kiss on my forehead. There’s something so very empowering about such a large, dangerous-looking male hunching over to shower gentle kisses to my face, and it soothes my worry a bit. “I am concerned that I am selfish, actually. That is why I pray.”
“Selfish?” I’ve had selfish lovers in the past and Nemeth is most definitely not one. “In what way?”
His expression is tormented. “In that I pressured you to mate me. I know you were hesitant. I worry I have been selfish in my need for you, and pushed you more than I should have. I worry that I convinced you with caresses instead of letting you decide for yourself. That I rushed you.”
I make an exasperated face. “You didn’t rush me, Nemeth. It was my decision. It has been all along. I knew what I was getting into when I married you, and I decided I wanted to do so anyhow.”
He caresses my face, his expression sad. “And will you abandon me when the tower doors open, like Ravendor did her mate?”
“Of course not. My love is stronger than that.” I put my hand over his. “I knew what I was doing when I decided to mate you. I knew I was giving up on my people for yours. They won’t accept me now because of what I’ve done. I’ve thrown my lot in with you. I suppose in a way I am Fellian, now.”
Nemeth looks sad. “Not Fellian,” he says softly. “Just mine.”
“That’s all I need.” I smile up at him. “Come to bed now?”
He blows out the candle.