Chapter 8 #2
This time, Vrogul looked away, withdrawing his fingers from me, placing his hands on my waist and pushing me away from him.
I shall not lie; the loss of him left me…bereft.
Vrogul lowered me until my toes could curl around the pebbles at the bottom of the pool, then turned to scoop up something. Ah, the soap, which he’d dropped earlier.
“Vrogul, I—”
“I pledged my honor,” he grumbled, stepping behind me and reaching for my braid.
I was surprised, but remembered he’d claimed plans to wash my hair, so I didn’t object when he untied the plait and began to run his fingers through the strands. Standing there in the middle of the warm pool, without his warmth and arms around me, I felt…vulnerable.
I didn’t like it.
So I fell back on the part of my nature which had been getting me in trouble for more years than I could count: My quarrelsome contrariness.
“You pledged your honor to Callor, aye.”
I tipped my head back as Vrogul began to rub the soap in my hair.
“What did he pledge to you?”
“Yer hair is longer than mine, lass. How do ye manage it?”
He was changing the subject?
“I do not manage it,” I snapped. “I hate it this long, but ‘twas easier than dealing with the suspicion from the rest of the clan—I mean village! The village where I lived! My home!”
His fingers dragged the soap suds through my hair, then returned to my scalp, and it felt better than aught else ever had—except Vrogul’s mouth on my nipples.
“I like it,” he muttered. “It just seems like a headache.”
My hair was a headache. ‘Twas also annoying that he was avoiding my question.
“Vrogul, what did Callor pledge you?”
His fingertips dug into my scalp, massaged.
“I…he pledged naught. He demanded loyalty and honor.”
He sounded…uncertain. I could work with that. I softened my tone as I sighed and sank back into his touch.
“You are a chief, Vrogul,” I said quietly. “Have you given your people a pledge?”
“Aye, of course. Why do ye think I work so hard to keep them safe? ‘Tis a constant headache—Fook.”
He began to cup water to rinse my hair.
“Callor is powerful.”
“But he is far away and does not understand the first rule of leadership.”
Vrogul was silent in the time it took him to finish carefully rinsing the soap from my hair. I thought he wasn’t going to answer, and I realized all my senses were attuned to him, waiting—hoping.
Finally, I heard him exhale.
“Aye? And what is the first rule of leadership, my wee wildcat?”
My lips twitched just slightly in approval, although my back was still to him and he did not see.
“Your people are not pledged to you, Vrogul. You are pledged to them.”
Suddenly desperate to make him understand, I turned, placing my hands on his forearms, staring up at him.
“A chief, a leader, is a shepherd—a father—to his people. You are their servant, aye?”
He stared down at me, his expression carefully blank, his eyes still flashing with that strange green glow. I thought of how terrifying I’d considered him only a fortnight before, and wondered when I’d stopped being afraid of him.
When I’d started to admire him.
When I’d ceased counting him my enemy.
“Aye,” he finally admitted cautiously.
I smiled softly.
“In that regard, Callor should be serving you, protecting you. He does not, though, does he? He just demands tribute, a tribute you are hard-pressed to provide because your clan struggles to survive on their own, without help from him.”
That little furrow appeared on his brow as he stared down at me, and I realized I knew that meant he was thinking, considering my words. When had I come to know him so well? Or was it just something I sensed?
“How do ye ken this, Rowena? Are ye guessing?”
Time, I supposed, to reveal my own past.
“My father…”
My gaze dropped to his chest, but even that felt too intimate, so I pulled away.
“My father was a vassal pledged to a warlord who took and took and took, in the same situation as your clan.”
Swallowing to clear my throat and give me a moment to consider my words, I stepped back, turned my shoulder to him, focused on the cliff face. Wondered how many others had stood in this spot over the years.
“He was no longer willing to sacrifice his people’s happiness.”
I felt Vrogul move up beside me, until my shoulder pressed against his chest.
“What happened?”
I felt the rumble of his voice.
I leaned more fully against him. It felt good to allow myself that comfort.
“He rebelled. Our men were destroyed, our people spread to the winds. He was killed, and I eventually ended up in that mining village, hiding who I was.”
Vrogul’s arm went around my shoulders, drawing me even closer.
I tipped my head back to look up at him.
“But that is because we were not stronger than our overlord. Do you see? Are you stronger than Callor?”
He seemed to be considering my words and was silent a moment before he replied.
“My warriors are the equal of any. He controls a larger force, but we could win in battle.”
“Would it come to that?” I asked quietly. “If you told him you were breaking your vow of loyalty, would he take it out on you? Or demand a battle?”
Vrogul’s expression was serious as he lifted his free hand to cup my cheek.
“Would ye stand with us if that happened, dkaar?”
My mind went blank. Because in that moment, when he’d asked me such a gut-wrenchingly difficult question, I realized the hard column now pressed against my hip was his cock. And unbidden, my hand dropped to it beneath the water.
I saw his eyelids flutter in response, saw a muscle in his jaw tick, and I gave his cock an experimental stroke. ’Twas ridged, the feel of it making my mouth water even as my inner muscles tightened in fascination.
“Rowena,” he growled.
My breathing came faster.
I was distracted as hell, that was the problem. Distracted by the possibilities, the feel of him under my fingers. I wanted to stroke him with both hands. I wanted to taste him and see him arch with pleasure under my ministrations.
And wasn’t that intriguing, since I was supposed to think of him as my enemy.
“I am supposed to run from you.”
‘Twas not until I saw his gaze shudder that I realized I’d said the words out loud. I lifted my chin, although I was unable to force myself to let go of his cock.
“You stole me from my people. I am not supposed to like it here. I am not supposed to like you.”
Still, I continued to stroke him.
“I am not supposed to offer you advice or find myself so unbelievably attracted to you or lie awake at night wanting to touch you!” I was telling myself as much as I was telling him, telling the world. “I am your enemy!”
Suddenly, Vrogul pulled his cock from my grip, his hands going around my waist, lifting me. I barely had time to gasp before my arse hit the edge of the pool and he stepped between my legs.
“What are—” I managed, but he grabbed my wrists and dragged them around his shoulders.
Vrogul’s mouth slammed down on mine, and I—frustrated and desperate and not quite understanding why—rose to meet his challenge, my arms tightening around his neck to keep him there as we kissed.
His tongue played with mine and I met him, stroke for stroke, my confusion and anger fueling my arousal.
Vrogul’s hands were everywhere, caressing and stroking my wet skin, his touch almost possessive. I was already slick from the hot spring pool, but my desire added a new layer of warmth, a slippery need that he seemed to be able to sense.
Mayhap scent.
His mouth moved from mine, his tusks scraping against my jaw, my neck, sending shivers down my spine. He growled harsh praise, his voice a rumble that vibrated against my skin.
“Ye shouldnae want this, but ye do,” he murmured, his hands cupping my breasts, squeezing them, his thumbs brushing over my hardening nipples.
“Ye think I’m yer enemy, aye, dkaar? But I’m no’.”
I couldn’t answer. Couldn’t think.
I gasped, my back arching slightly, pushing my breasts further into his hands.
He took the invitation, his mouth descending on one peak, then the other, his teeth gently pulling, tugging at the sensitive tips. I whimpered, my breath coming in short pants, my body trembling with the overload of sensations.
“And ye’re no’ my enemy, Rowena. I’ll prove it to ye.”
His mouth trailed down my body, his tongue a hot, wet line that seemed to brand me. I was helpless, my body aching for more, my mind a haze of desire. When his mouth found my cunny, I jerked against him.
“What—?”
My fingers tightened in his braids, but I wasn’t certain if ‘twas to keep him there or pull him away.
“Vrogul!”
With a low growl, he tipped his head, scraping one tusk along my inner thigh, making me whimper and buck, my bare arse half-sticking to the rock as my cunny wept with need.
His tongue was wide and ridged, and we both groaned at the first lick. The sensation was intense, his tongue dragging over my sensitive flesh, exploring every fold, every secret place.
His fingers slid inside me, stretching me, filling me as he’d done earlier, as his tongue focused on my clitoris. He licked and circled, driving me higher and higher. My hands clutched his braids, holding on for dear life as I ground against his mouth, all other thought forgotten.
I needed this, needed him, more than I needed my next breath.
The sensations were brutal, overwhelming, and my climax was equally so.
When it hit, ‘twas sudden and violent. I screamed again, the sound ripped from my throat, a mixture of surprise and sheer pleasure. My body convulsed, my inner muscles clamping down on his fingers, my thighs clamping around his ears, my hips bucking against his mouth as I rode out the ecstasy.
Vrogul groaned, his mouth and tongue continuing to work me, drawing out every last wave of my orgasm until I was a shivering, breathless mess.
Oh God. Oh God.
As the waves subsided, I slumped back, my body sated but my mind reeling.
Vrogul slowly lifted his head, his eyes glowing, his chin wet with my release. He looked fierce, dangerous, and utterly irresistible. There was pride in his eyes and a challenge in the way he slid that incredible tongue over his lips, gathering in my desire.
And in that moment, I knew, enemy or not, I didn’t think I could walk away.
“Now,” he growled, planting his palms on the rock on either side of me. He leaned in as I stared, breathless and wide-eyed up at him.
“Wee wildcat, ye ken what I want?”
Please please please please.
I wanted to feel him inside me. I wanted to bring him pleasure. I tipped my head back, squeezed his hips with my knees, and met his challenge.
“What, Vrogul?” I whispered, my throat raw from my screaming pleasure. “What do you want from me?”
His grin was as wicked as he was.
“I want ye to wash my back.”