Chapter Eleven #2
He was on his knees leaning over me on the bed by that time, running his hands all over my body.
I just let him have his way with me, and he groaned his approval.
He was making my whole body feel languid and his kisses had a drugging effect on me.
His mouth was so warm and soft. I heard myself whimpering and begging him for more.
Davos’s big hands gently, maddeningly massaged me.
I had never felt this lightheaded, toe-curling compulsion to be ravished by anyone before Davos, not with anyone else I’d ever been with, not that I’d been with many people, and no other men before him, except for the heavy-handed Werros.
And I was trying to forget that. But it seemed I still remembered the things Davos had taught me when I first came to live with him.
I lifted my legs higher, feeling vulnerable and perfect.
I belonged to this man, and he belonged to me.
“Make love to me, Davos,” I begged him shamelessly, rutting against him, wanting, needing to feel more of him inside me to erase any trace of Werros. I kept trying to reach for his cock as if I could pull it into me. “Please,” I begged him.
“I’ve wanted you from the first time I saw you,” he whispered to me. “Nothing has ever changed for me,” he said. “Now put your hands back over your head. Let me love you.”
I shuddered at his words. I gazed up into those beautiful, amber eyes of his, though, and did as he asked.
He gazed down at me and claimed my mouth in another searing kiss.
It was the most powerful one between us yet, even hotter than those we’d already shared.
He was kissing me like I was precious to him, and I’d hadn’t felt that from him in far too long. It was a seductive feeling.
I heard myself sighing softly and stopped struggling with every other emotion I was feeling. I gave in to all of it and just allowed him to love me.
“That’s it,” he whispered in my ear. “Relax. I’ll never hurt you.
” I shivered again and he slid his lips over mine, kissing me deeply.
He trailed kisses down my throat and wound up at my nipple, sucking it into his hot, wet mouth and making my head spin.
I arched up against him and cried out his name over and over.
Finally, finally, he knelt over me and spread some of the oil from the bedside table onto his hands.
Still, he made me wait while he carefully continued to open me, stretching me even more.
I arched my back and tried to hump his hand.
“Be still,” he chided me. “This will happen when I say so and not before.”
How could I be still while he was doing that to me?
I thought I’d go mad. I thrashed my head from side to side, groaning.
Finally, when he was through torturing me, he pulled my ankles down onto his shoulders and scooted me down the bed and into his lap.
I began to moan and thrash, and he bent over to bite my nipple hard enough that I cried out.
“Be good,” he said as he licked it and then began rubbing the tip of his cock over my entrance again and again.
I thought then I might truly lose my mind, but finally he began to ease himself into me.
The burn came, because he was so large, but he took things slowly, caressing me and stroking me when I whimpered and moaned.
He filled me slowly until our groins were brushing against each other.
I could feel his coarse hair against my ass, and I cried out with pleasure.
I was pushing desperately against him, trying to keep up with him and he was slowly, rhythmically fucking me into oblivion.
It was so good between us. The head of his cock hit again and again on the place inside me that lit me on fire, and I arched my back again, this time moaning, “Yes, please…more. Harder.”
He felt so damned good inside me, so thick and hard.
He pulled out and then pushed back in again, impaling me, thrusting against me, pushing in and sliding back out in a rhythm that made me cry out and writhe beneath him, sucking in a deep breath as he moved inside me.
This wouldn’t last long. I could already feel the heat curling in my belly and the tingling along my spine.
I felt my orgasm gathering inside me like a storm long before it finally came, though. Davos was no longer touching my cock, but when he saw how close I was, he finally did again, stroking me insistently. “Come for me,” he said.
My orgasm slammed into me so hard I thought I might pass out, and I strained and moaned and cried out his name as I came.
He was right behind me, pushing into me so hard I thought I saw stars flashing on the ceiling of the room.
I was totally blissed out as he came, arching his back, his mouth open in a wordless cry and he came deep inside me just as hard I had.
He lay heavily on me, face to face, and still buried inside me. I could feel his heart bumping rapidly against my chest. I opened my eyes to find him staring down at me, and I said, a little breathlessly, the first thing that popped into my head.
“I love you so much. Never doubt that, Davos. I’ll always love you.”
He looked down at me and took my lips with his in a claiming kiss. “You belong to me, Lieutenant. Say it.”
“I belong to you. But you belong to me too.”
“That’s right,” he said and kissed me hard again, squeezing me like he’d never let me go again.
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Rakkur
When I came back in, I could hear my father murmuring softly to my omak. I loved a happy ending. I already knew how this story ended, naturally, but I’d enjoyed hearing it just the same.
When Blake saw me coming back in, he held out his hand to me and I sat down on the side of the bed.
“So, we had our happy ending, or not, since we’re a long way from being over yet.
But I had my handsome, gorgeous baby, and I admit that I cried a little with happiness, because finally when I held him again, I was able to pull back his blanket and look him over—every little inch of him to my heart’s content.
He was perfect, of course, and he looked just like his father.
And he may have slept between us for a while, because I couldn’t bear to be parted from him. Not for another minute.”
“For a while? It was many times that he slept between us,” Father said, shaking his head.
“I should never have allowed it, because from that moment on, I had one of you in the bed between us every night for the next fifteen cycles. There was a slight break between you and Nicarr, and then it all started back up again. I thought you might be there until you reached your teens.”
I laughed as my omak hit his arm in outrage, telling him he was crazy.
I knew my father was wildly exaggerating, but I enjoyed their back-and-forth banter.
He was always so relaxed around Blake—when my omak wasn’t driving him crazy, that is.
My father had managed to have seven children with Blake in all, so they’d obviously come to some kind of compromise between them.
If only I could do the same with my own husband.
A knock came on the door and my father called out for whoever it was to come in. The door swung open, and Tariq stood there, looking travel-stained and exhausted and needing a shave. I’d never seen anything so beautiful. His eyes went straight to me, swept over me and then moved to my father.
“Your Majesty,” he said, bowing to him. “I’ve come to take my husband and our children with me back to Loros.”
My father considered him carefully and then glanced back at me.
“Have you, now? And what if Rakkur declines to go?”
Tariq stuck out that stubborn chin of his. “I don’t mean to be disrespectful, but I’ll take him anyway, Your Majesty. He belongs to me.”
“Quite right,” my father said to my outrage. “Go right ahead. Blake, go get the children, while Tariq gets his husband.”
“Omak, don’t you dare!” I shouted, jumping off the bed and backing up against the wall. I pointed my finger at Tariq’s face. “Don’t you come near me! I belong to myself and no one else.”
My omak looked torn, as he glanced back and forth between us, but my father looked at him sternly. “Blake, do as I say, please.”
Rakkur,” my father said, looking at me. “Do you want to be married to Tariq?”
“It’s not that easy, Father.”
“I think it is. Blake, go get the babies.”
Blake sighed and looked back at me, shrugging his shoulders. “Just give in gracefully, darling. Or if you won’t, then tell your father that you want a divorce.”
I stood there with my fists clenched, mad as four hells, because he knew I wasn’t going to say that. How could I? I loved Tariq far too much to say those words. I glared at Omak instead, feeling trapped and angry.
Blake turned to Tariq. “And you. Tell him you love him and you’re sorry, for goodness’ sake. It’s all he wants to hear, and you know you want to make up just as much as he does. You were both in the wrong.”
Tariq gave a sharp nod and came over to me. Whenever he came close like that, I felt overpowered and overcome by his presence. I loved him so much, but he made me so angry with some of the things he said.
He came close enough that we were almost touching, and I caught his scent. It was so potent and good it made my knees go weak. I found I wasn’t quite as angry as I’d thought I was.
He reached out and cupped the side of my face with his big, warm hand.
“I love you, Rakkur. Is that enough for you to come home with me? If it isn’t, tell me what you want me to say.
You know I’m not good with words. But I’ll say anything to end this.
I can’t leave here without you and the children. I won’t do it.”
It was never going to be easy with Tariq.
He was passionate but he held too much inside himself.
He was brave and strong, but he was stubborn and-and Tygerian!
He wanted to be in charge—not because of arrogance but because he thought he was right all the time, and he had to protect his family, even though I didn’t need his protection.
He wanted to say the right things, but he almost never did.
And still the undeniable truth was that I loved him. Every part of him. But I wondered again if love could be enough.
Blake had made a choice long ago to stay with my father, even though he was so different from anyone he’d ever known.
He was big and overbeating and a Tygerian too.
And Blake’s whole life had been back on Earth.
Yet I was sure he’d didn’t regret his choice.
Tariq was everything I’d ever wanted, and when life gave you exactly what you wanted…
then maybe it should be enough. Maybe it was more than just enough. Maybe it was everything.
“I can’t let you leave me, Rakkur. I just can’t do it. If you won’t come home, then I’ll stay here with you, but I can’t live apart from you. Not ever.”
I felt my heart melting. “I love you too, Tariq. And I’m sorry, too. Will you take me home?”
“Always,” he said, and he held out his hand.
The End