Chapter 33
Syla’s heart pounded as she reached the dry area at the back of the cave, a spot squarely between the two candles.
She turned to face Vorik, to make sure he didn’t think anything odd of her inviting him into the interior and away from the rain, though, as they’d kissed, it had crossed her mind to straddle him so that he could plunge into her and satisfy her need right there.
Never would she have thought she could feel such an attraction to a man she knew was working against her, who was using her for his own means. For his odious general’s means.
But Vorik genuinely wanted her. She knew that. And he would probably feel bad about leaving her after sex to go destroy her people’s only means of defending themselves from dragons.
Of course, her plan was to not let him do that.
Halfway into the cave, Vorik paused. His fiery gaze was locked upon her, his desire radiating off him, but his nostrils twitched. He’d caught the scent of the candles.
Lesva hadn’t grown suspicious of the scent until she’d yawned, but what if Vorik had encountered the sedative before? Or what if he simply found it odd that she’d grabbed such strongly scented candles to bring along?
Keeping her gaze on him—it wasn’t hard as that bare chest of his made her eyes want to linger and explore—she shifted her hands to the knot at the flap of her robe, the knot he’d wanted to untie.
Right away, he noticed her movement, and his attention swung back to her. His eyes flared with such interest that she felt sexier than she ever had. But she was nervous and fumbled at the knot, her fingers flustered.
Not moving, Vorik watched. Why did the image of a predator waiting to spring come to mind? He wanted to leap upon her, to ravage her. And she wanted to be ravaged. Especially beside these candles with their heady scent.
Finally, she got the knot free, but she was slow to open the flaps and show her naked and vulnerable body to him. Lesva’s words about her softness and big boobs flared in her mind, and she felt self-conscious. A part of her wondered why Vorik, who could have any woman, was even aroused by her.
But she made herself push the robe off her shoulders, telling herself he was aroused. She’d felt that sitting in his lap, and, by the light of the candles, she could see the bulge against his trousers, so swollen it was a wonder he didn’t tear through the leather.
And when her robe fell to the ground and he growled and strode forward, she knew she’d read him right. He wanted her.
And he was upon her so fast, pushing her back against the stone wall and kissing her, that it startled her. But her body knew what to do. Maybe he was a predator and she the prey, but she’d never been so excited to be in that position in her life.
His hungry kisses aroused her, his tongue sweeping into her mouth, demanding that she open for him. And she did. Eagerly. She barely felt the hard roughness of the cold rock behind her. All she was aware of was his heat, his power. Him.
While they kissed, Syla gripped his shoulders, letting her hands stroke and knead his corded muscles.
His own hands explored her body, roaming and cupping, as if her full curves excited him.
His desire for her aroused her almost as much as his lips and his hands, and she pressed herself against him, molding her body to his.
As he kissed her, hands stroking her expertly, her core heated, slick with need. She caught herself rubbing against him, longing to have him out of those trousers so there would be nothing between them.
“Take them off,” he whispered between kisses, as if he’d read her thoughts.
More likely, he read her pushing into him, wanting to feel him more fully.
His fingers brushed through her hair, his touch on her scalp sending another flood of heat through her.
“Take them off now,” he ordered with a needy growl.
The words made her tingle with excitement, the desire to obey, and she scraped her hands down his chest toward his waistband.
“I want you to touch me,” he added, more softly, as if apologizing for his insistent command.
She kissed him as she unfastened the clasp of his trousers. She wanted to touch him too.
“I’ve wanted your hand around my cock since you rode on my dragon with me,” he added, the admission coming between kisses as his mouth left hers to nip and lick at her throat.
Her nipples tightened with pleasure as his lips drew nearer, and she almost forgot her mission with his trousers.
But she got the clasp unfastened. Before she could shift the trousers off his hips, his cock freed itself, as if it had a mind and desires of its own.
Thick and hard, it thrust itself into her hand, and Vorik growled with lust and maybe triumph.
“I’ve wanted you too,” she whispered.
“Since the dragon ride?” He moved against her hand while he stroked her breast, not forgetting to attend her.
She found having him in her grip arousing all by itself.
Never before had a man’s penis interested her overmuch, certainly not drawing her to stare and consider it magnificent, but this was different.
He was different. The taut musculature of his body and the magical power that he emanated drew her like nothing ever had before.
“Since you thanked me in the temple,” she whispered, though that wasn’t the truth. That dragon ride had interested her far more than she should have let it.
“I think you’re lying to me, Princess.”
“It’s… what we’re supposed to do, isn’t it?”
As the inane words tumbled out, she kept looking at him, her hand around him, stroking him. Eyes half-closed, he rocked in response to her ministrations. To have the power to affect someone who was himself so powerful was a wonder.
She caught herself lowering to her knees and touching her cheek to his erection, then daring to slide her tongue along his thick length.
Vorik groaned and thrust toward her, such eagerness and desire in his voice that it excited her further.
Her needy core throbbed, making her long to climb him and let him thrust into her, but she didn’t give in, not yet.
She reminded herself that she wanted their time together to last, though she couldn’t quite remember why.
She was too distracted by him, by his naked pleasure at her touch.
She slid her mouth around his tip, drawing him into her. He groaned again, thigh muscles quivering as he fought the urge to plunge deeply into her, to risk hurting her.
Enjoying his taste and his scent, as intoxicating as the candles, she curled her fingers around his ass and took him deeper.
He gripped the back of her head, fingers rubbing and scraping through her hair as he barely resisted pulling her hard against him.
Instead, his ministrations inflamed her, and she took him eagerly, again struggling against the urge to maneuver to have him between her legs. She was so hot and ready for him.
Maybe he knew that because he caught her under the arms, lifting her to press her against the cave wall, to pin her like a captive. He kissed her hard as one of his hands swept past her breast, raising fire as his fingers trailed lower, then slid into her.
She gasped, bucking at the intense sensation, and clenched around him.
“You’re as ready as I am, Princess,” he whispered, his eyes satisfied as he rubbed her. “Syla.”
Her name on his lips aroused her even more. They were enemies, but he cared enough to use it, to respect her with it.
She moaned, almost painfully aroused, his touches blasting her with pleasure. She couldn’t find words to respond, only nodding and wanting him to continue.
He’d taken over control, stroking her molten core as he kept her against the wall, kissing her with need that matched hers, pausing only to add, “Since the dragon.”
He watched her, waiting for a response as his fingers brought her to such exquisite heights that she almost cried out his name, begging for him to take her fully. Never had she needed anyone—anything—so badly.
“Since the dragon,” she panted, writhing against him, gripping his shoulder with one hand and finding his hard length with the other. “Take me, Vorik.”
“Oh, I will.” With satisfaction and lust turning his eyes fiery, Vorik lifted her leg to hook over his hip and drove into her.
He roared, letting her know the intense satisfaction as he gave in to what he’d wanted since their first ride.
As he filled her, she yelled his name to the storm, to whatever gods watched.
Fingers digging into his shoulders, she was as eager as he for the next thrust, accepting all of him as he plunged deep.
Panting and kissing, they fenced with their mouths as they rocked together, each deep plunge more satisfying than the last, each bringing them closer to the ultimate ecstasy.
With the sea smashing against the rocks outside and thunder rumbling, they cried out for each other.
Again and again, they came together, sweat gleaming on their bodies, their pants and groans of need filling the air.
Growing more and more desperate for a climax, Syla felt more frenzied and out of control than she’d ever been in her life. And she felt more alive.
Thunder crashed one more time, and her pleasure exploded like solstice fireworks. She clung to him, thrusting her breasts toward him, as waves of intense satisfaction swept over her.
His eyes fastened on her chest, on the trembling pleasure of her aftermath, and with a final great plunge, Vorik came.
With his roar as he poured himself into her, she believed that he’d wanted her as badly as he’d claimed.
For as long as he’d claimed. And when he lowered to the ground, taking her with him and cuddling her close, she believed he regretted that they were on different sides.
Syla wished this were purely about enjoyment, but as he kissed her and stroked her gently, she couldn’t help but glance at the candles.
They’d burned halfway down, and their scent filled the back of the cave, but nothing during their sex had suggested Vorik felt any sluggishness.
She almost laughed at the thought. He’d been anything but that.
Images of powerful predators came to mind again. Of dragons.
She kissed him and trailed her fingers down his taut abdomen, wondering how she might keep him occupied for another hour or however long it would take for the candles to kick in.
If they kicked in. Earlier, she’d worried if his dragon-bond would keep him from being affected.
But Lesva had been starting to yawn. Maybe it would simply take longer to work on someone with such magic?
Vorik nuzzled her gently, shifting her in his arms so that they were snuggled with her back to his chest, cupped to him. She would have loved to spend the night like that with him but expected him to remember his mission any time and leap to his feet and run out. How could she keep him here?
He surprised her by shifting her hair aside, kissing the back of her neck, and taking one of her breasts in his hand. Her body responded instantly, nipple tightening in anticipation, as if there might be more.
“You were magnificent,” he murmured, his thumb brushing her sensitive skin. “And deserve more than I gave.”
“What you gave was, uhm…” The most intense pleasure she’d ever received. “Good.”
“Good.” He snorted softly, then kissed her neck again. “After the days you’ve had, I wish I could give you pleasure that would last you the rest of your life.”
Did his voice sound slightly muzzy? Sleepy?
His fingers traced her breast, almost lazy in their movement though they stimulated her, and her nerves perked, wondering if there might be more tonight.
“I wish I could give you a berry cobbler every day for the rest of your life,” she said. “We make them out of apples, cherries, and peaches, too, you know.”
“I love apples,” he murmured, eyes closed.
His fingers slid lower, brushing between her legs, but they merely came to rest there. That was a little disappointing, but Syla reminded herself that she wanted him to fall asleep. To fall into a deep unconscious state that would last for hours.
“And the drink your people make from them,” he added. “Cider?”
“We make all kinds of drinks, alcoholic and not. Juice, cider, brandy, applejack, and one of my relatives does an apple liqueur that he mixes with syrup to pour over ice cream.”
“What is… ice cream?” Eyes still closed, Vorik yawned and rested his stubbled jaw against her bare shoulder.
“It’s made from cow’s milk and cream, sugar from beets, and various flavorings like strawberries and blueberries.” What a thing to discuss during a seduction, or in the aftermath of a seduction. Were enemy agents supposed to be interested in fruits and desserts?
“You get hunks of rock ice from the ice man, put them around a special mixing barrel, then whip together the ingredients inside, and the ice chills the mixture. Then you either have to eat it all right away, while it’s frozen, or store it in an icehouse.
When we were kids, it was always a special treat to have ice cream in the summer. ”
Vorik’s breathing was even.
Syla watched his face, trying to tell if he’d nodded off.
“I think you’d like ice cream, Vorik,” she murmured.
He didn’t react to the comment, and she carefully—and with reluctance—removed his hand from her thigh and eased out of his embrace. His eyes remained closed, his breathing even.
The candles burned cheerfully, each with about one-third of its length remaining.
They ought to continue to exude their sedative scent for a couple more hours, maybe longer.
She hoped longer. Once Vorik woke up, he would realize what she’d done, that she’d thanked him for coming to help her by seducing him.
It had been for the good of the kingdom, she told herself, and hoped he wouldn’t hate her later.
At the least, she thought he might not blame her, but she didn’t know.
The thought of him deciding she was a true enemy, one to be targeted and captured instead of protected, saddened her deeply, but she had no choice.
Careful to be quiet, even though she knew his slumber was deeper than normal sleep, Syla hurried to put on her robe, shoes, spectacles, and grab her pack and head out into the night.