Chapter Eighteen #2
He tried to jerk away, but I held on tightly and led him to my quarters. He turned to face me when we got inside. “Well, what am I supposed to sleep in?”
“My arms. And nothing else.”
He gasped and stepped forward quickly to throw his arms around my neck. “Why do you say these things to me if you don’t want me?”
“I never said I didn’t want you. That’s all in your head, nobyo. I told you, you belonged to me, and I meant that. Let’s have no more foolishness between us. There’s too much going on right now for us to be at odds.”
I could feel his mind racing. His thoughts, like vines, often seemed to twirl and intertwine with his feelings, making a terrible tangle. “I’m so tired of fighting with you,” he sighed.
“Then stop, nobyo. Come to bed with me.”
I reached for him then and pulled him closer with a hand curving around the nape of his neck.
My mouth descended in a kiss so full of heat and passion that my lips tingled.
Gods, what was he doing to me? His mouth that tasted so sweet opened a little, and he let me delve inside with my tongue.
Heat was building inside me, and I made myself slow down, so as not to scare him, because I was pretty sure he wasn’t nearly as experienced as he’d tried to make me believe.
I kissed him the way I’d been dreaming of, though—delicately, sweetly, trailing my lips across his soft, fragrant skin and not rushing as I nuzzled my face against his throat.
My kisses aroused shivers and sweet moans from him.
A possessive heat flooded over me, and I could feel a prickling low in my belly.
I needed to make love to him…I couldn’t resist it.
I pulled him closer and brushed away the dark hair falling across his ear to nuzzle him again.
It didn’t surprise me when he suddenly wrapped his arms around my neck and kissed me back.
He kissed like a virgin, and I had to admit that idea greatly appealed to me.
I couldn’t even think about any other man holding him and kissing him like this.
I began to move us inside and back toward the bed, both of us pulling at our clothes along the way and only when I picked him up to put him on the mattress, did I become fully aware of all that bare, golden skin exposed beneath me.
I heard him suck in a sharp breath as he touched me, his careful, hesitant fingers reaching out to stroke me.
I was hard and ready to make love to him.
I fell on top of him, gathering the come leaking from me on my fingertips to push it inside him and get him ready.
I covered his mouth with my own and then moved my body over his, grinding myself against him.
My skin felt hot all over, and his legs fell open to me of their own accord.
I pulled his ankles up over my shoulders and gently eased inside him.
I heard myself whispering words that I’d never said to anyone before and stopped moving so he could adjust to me, simply letting him get used to being filled up.
As he began to calm down, I caressed his cock with my hand, moving it up and down slowly and tenderly.
I’d never loved Merik like this, I suddenly realized.
Not with this same urgency and passion. This feeling that I might die if I didn’t make love to him soon, though it hurt me to even think those words.
They felt so disloyal, but I’d never felt this way about anyone before. Not even my sweet Merik.
I kissed him gently and began to move again urgently, until he began to move with me, matching his rhythm to mine. Time seemed to pass slowly, and Taran turned his mouth up to mine, begging me to kiss him again and again as I thrust against him over and over.
I groaned and whispered love words in his ear and bent over to suck at his skin.
I kissed and bit his neck as I did. He suddenly went rigid as wave after wave of pleasure seemed to engulf him.
He cried out and clung me tightly, riding the wave of his passion.
With one long, hard, final thrust, I came too, and then it was my turn to cling to him, not wanting to ever let him go.
We both collapsed, still woven tightly in each other's arms.
For a long time, we just lay there, and I thought his breathing had evened out and he’d maybe gone to sleep. Then I heard his voice, murmuring softly in my ear.
“Maybe you don’t love me now, but if I’m really your nobyo…that is, if you really want me to be…then maybe one day you really will change your mind about loving me. If you’re don’t take too long, I’ll wait for you to do that.”
“Oh really?” I said, feeling a little amused by him. “And how long would you be willing to wait for me?”
He replied so softly I had to strain to hear him. “Oh, not long. Just for the rest of my life,” he said. “But not a moment longer.”
****
Taran
It was the next day when I knocked on the door to my parents’ room and heard Janos call out softly, “Yes? Who is it?”
“It’s me, Janos. It’s Taran. Let me in.”
The door opened a tiny bit and Janos peeped out. When he saw me at his door, he exclaimed softly and pulled me inside. “We were told not to go out of our rooms. What are you doing roaming the halls?”
“They’re called ‘passageways’ on a ship, Majesty. And it’s the same for space cruisers.”
“You knew exactly what I meant, though, so who cares? And what are you doing walking around?”
“They didn’t say we were confined to our quarters. Just to be careful who we took food from.”
“No, Taran, your General Vargarra was clear. He didn’t say ‘be careful.’ He said take nothing from anyone not on the list. And stay in our rooms.”
“Well, do you have the list? Because I’m hungry and thirsty.”
“Your father took it with him on his communicator.”
“And where did he go?”
“To join Mikos to get ready for this banquet. We’re supposed to land in the afternoon tomorrow.”
“Yes, I know. Kirstos told me. They’re having their ‘dinner’ tonight.
The one they think the conspirators may try to sabotage.
I think they’re too smart for that, though.
They’ll never take such a big chance of getting caught as to try to sneak in beforehand and poison the food. I mean, what if we don’t eat it?”
“Maybe it’ll be in the wine.”
“It’s best not to worry about it until it’s over. I just came to see if you had anything to eat in here. No one has come by to give me anything.”
“Nor me, but they’re not all that late yet.”
“Almost an hour.”
“There may be some of those koo-kee things Blake likes over there. He gave us a box he said were Larz’s favorites.”
I went over to the desk he’d indicated and began to rummage around. I found the box of treats he’d mentioned and ate a couple of them. They were delicious, but I was still hungry. A knock came on the door, and I went over eagerly to answer, thinking it would be supper at last.
Too late, I heard Janos call a warning to me, but then I saw that it was Worron, the trauma medic who had saved my life on Moravia. He looked surprised to see me there.
“Oh, hello. It’s Lt. Worron, isn’t it? You helped me on Moravia. Look, Majesty, it’s Lt. Worron. The one who caught you when Kirstos threw you to him at the bridge.”
Janos smiled at him and nodded. “I remember. It’s nice to see you again, Lieutenant. Sureky you didn’t come to bring us our dinner?”
He smiled and stepped past me inside the room, closing the door behind him. “No, Consort Janos, I didn’t. I’m here to bring you something else entirely.”
Without another word, he reached behind him and pulled out his short sword.
All the Imperials I knew wore their swords at their sides when they were working, along with various daggers strapped to legs or hidden in boots.
Their weapon of choice was a disrupter, of course, but swords were ceremonial.
And Imperials loved blades of any kind. The short swords were thick and very lethal, somewhere between the length of a dagger and a sword.
They may have looked good in formation or during formal events, but carrying and unsheathing a sword from your back wasn’t very practical, and they could also be uncomfortable to wear that way for long periods of time.
It was basically just a really long, wicked-looking knife.
He held it out in front of him and began to walk toward me.
“You’ll never get away with this,” Janos said. “They’ll torture and kill you for this.”
“They won’t get a chance. Both my swords are dipped in poison. After I kill the two of you, I’ll kill myself.”
“That’s crazy,” I said, slowly backing up. “I’ve never done anything to you and neither has my father.”
“Perhaps you haven’t, and I confess I didn’t expect to see you here. But he has,” he said, pointing his weapon at Janos, only a foot or so from my face. “And he knows what he’s done!”
He was so furious that he suddenly hurled the short sword at Janos like a dagger.
He had pulled it back over his head to throw it at him, though, and he was in such a rage that he was off balance.
I cried out and lunged for him, catching him around the knees and knocking both him and his sword to the floor.
My only hope was that Janos would have time to duck.
It upset Worron’s plans to skewer us both with his poisoned sword, though, and that made him furious.
He pulled back his fist to hit me and that’s when the door suddenly burst open and Kirstos practically flew across the room to land on top of Worron’s body.
The short sword he’d thrown at Janos was in reach, so Kirstos grabbed it and with both hands drove it right into Worron’s heart.
Even without the poison, a sword to the heart will do the trick.
Worron gave out one last choking sound, thrashed a little on the deck of the cabin and then rolled back his eyes and died.