Chapter 2 #3
As soon as they were inside the gate and out of the public view, Samyra turned and slapped him hard on the bare chest with both hands. “What the fuck did you think you were doing?”
He rocked back on his heels from the force of her blow and her anger.
“Saving your life, mistress,” he said, forcing his natural weapons to retract.
“Samyra the Beast Lady does not need saving, not ever,” she screamed. “I fight my own battles. You’re not even trained—you could have been killed out there.”
“I’m a warrior,” he answered simply. “And hard to kill.”
She spun around. “Come with me. Now.”
As Jamirr hastened after her, he wondered what was coming next.
He had no regrets about going onto the sands to save her life, not even if she had him executed or sold.
Samyra alive was the most important thing in his life and he’d gladly give his own up to preserve hers.
He understood her pride was damaged by his coming to help, even if he’d been careful to make it appear he was only out there to fight the other team, not Tirion himself.
She led him to her private rooms. As the Mistress of a House, she had a dressing room set aside and no need to shower or change in the public space.
The moment he was inside and the door closed, she launched herself at him, backing him up to the door.
Wrapping her legs around his waist as he caught her, Samyra framed his face with her hands and kissed him hard, her tongue pushing into his mouth and her body grinding against his.
Startled, it took him a second to catch up but then he put his heart into the caress.
She fumbled with the fastenings of her breastplate and he helped her.
When the highly decorated armor came loose he cast it aside, took a moment to unhook the simple bandeau she wore beneath and then reveled in the feel of her ample breasts against his bare chest. She slipped from his embrace to get a better angle on undoing his pants and when his cock sprang free, she gripped it hard.
Her little kilt fell away and he ripped her panties off, using one talon carefully extended.
She was hot and wet for him and he lined himself up and thrust. Samyra took him all the way in one powerful move and she was so tight around him he moaned.
“Harder,” she said, nails digging into his shoulders. “I need you.”
He held her with all his strength and drove into her with a fast rhythm, raw and desperate.
They were both in the grip of passion and the aftereffects of the battle in the arena and although he kept himself from hurting her, he gave her what she was begging for, to their mutual satisfaction.
He slammed deep, time after time, driven by the way she clenched around him and the sounds she made, guttural moans of pleasure.
Samyra threw her head back, hair streaming and closed her eyes as the throes of her release took her.
Jamirr followed a second or two behind and he saw white stars as the power of his climax took him by surprise.
They clung together, breathing hard, hearts pounding in a shared rhythm.
She leaned her head against his chest and her embrace which had been so needy became an affectionate hug.
He soaked up the moment, wishing it could last forever.
Of course it didn’t. Samyra wriggled and he immediately set her on her own two feet. She ran one hand over the cut muscles in his abdomen and stepped away. “Refresher’s in there,” she said, pointing to a door off to the side.
“You first,” he told her. Inside he was wondering if what had been such a special thing for him was something she always did after a big fight to work off the adrenaline and the jealousy of unknown men burned inside his heart.
“I’ll just be a minute then.”
He found a wipes dispenser on a table and cleaned himself off, putting his cock away and straightening his pants.
When Samyra emerged from the steamy bathroom she was in an animal print robe, with her wet hair twisted into a braid.
She gave him a smile but it was perfunctory.
“You’d best go tend to the animals,” she said.
“Darryl doesn’t like having to keep an eye on them here.
Tell him I said for you to take them back to the compound now and I’ll follow later.
I need to talk to him about a replacement for the man we lost today. ”
He hesitated, wanting to tell her what was in his heart but she was obviously in no mood to talk and looking past him.
“You’ll be fined, you know,” she said with a chuckle, tightening the belt of her robe although he could still glimpse her cleavage.
“For?”
“Improper gladiator attire.” She gestured at his pants. “Not to worry though, the fine gets paid out of your share of the purse.”
“The—” He felt tongue tied and the conversation had an air of unreality about it.
“Today’s prize money. We won, you fought, you get your share.”
“Thank you.” He refused to call her mistress right now, not after what they’d shared. Before she could make any more awkward small talk he slipped out the door and went to find Darryl, snagging a tee shirt from a table of merchandise and shrugging into it.