Trusted (22 page)

He dared to look down into her face and saw tears in her eyes. He exhaled harshly. “I’m sorry,” he said, “but this was the best way.”

“Is it over now?” she asked tearfully.

He laughed and he could tell from her gasp that she felt it inside of herself. “The worst part is over,” he promised her. “The best part is about to begin.”

“You mean there’s more? Is it a good more or a bad more?”

“This is a good more. I promise you. Just look into my eyes and feel.”

He slowly receded from her body, then reentered her. He repeated the movement. By the third time her tension had begun to relax, her clutch on his shoulders loosening. Oh, he was going to pay for this later, he thought as he moved to bear weight on his uninjured side.

He moved slowly like that for several minutes, letting her adapt to the sensations as they came. Trepidation relaxed into slow acceptance and then that morphed into an expression of wonder.

“I never thought it…but this feels good!”

He laughed and envied her this first time. The first discovering of every bit of pleasure that could be derived from the body. He took pleasure in the idea of being the one to give her these new and wondrous sensations she was discovering. He felt honored. And he was glad they had waited until they were wed. It was far more special this way. A moment of greater import. She gave herself willingly and freely with no regrets. And that was as it should be.

“It will feel even better,” he promised her. “Remember how I could make you quake using my mouth?” She nodded vigorously. “I can do so even better with my cock. And, as you have heard, I’m quite good with what I’ve got.”

That made her giggle and he smiled at her.

“Very well,” she said. “Prove it to me.”

“Prove what?”

“Prove everything they ever said about you is true.”

“What all at once?” he said, laughing.

“I will be satisfied if you spend the night living up to expectations. Come the morning I am certain others are going to ask. I know Isobol would have.”

And just like that the teasing left her and sadness entered her eyes.

“Do not think on it,” he said, pressing a kiss to her lips. “We have Isobol’s murderer now. He will be made to pay. But she would not want her death to get in the way of our love.”

“Oh it’s not,” she said with a smile. “I was ever so serious about you living up to you reputation.”

“And so I shall. Starting now,” he said as he eased inside of her and outside again, slowly picking up speed, making certain she felt every inch of him in all the best ways possible. She began to pant for breath, her eyes widening with every in stroke. He reached between their connected bodies with his non-dominant hand and slid fingers into folds and found her clitoris with unerring ease. It helped that hers was delightfully fat. A robust fellow ready for a feast of pleasure.

With every in stroke he swirled his touch around her clit, his touch slick and wet with her juices. He stared down into her eyes, greedily devouring every expression of pleasure that skated across her features. And soon he was dining on a feast of them, each expression more vivid than the one before. She was purring, hard, and he didn’t even think she realized it. He kissed her then, just in time to catch a deep, throaty moan that blended with her purr. Once he started kissing her and feeling those moan and purrs in his mouth, he couldn’t stop. He thrust into her harder, felt her legs come up around him unthinkingly. She was clutching him to herself with everything she was. He knew she was close, and it was a damn good thing because he was just as close as she was. Something about her made him go wild, made him want to leap to the highest perch he could find and just roar.

By the Joyous One, he was going to come. Any second. But he would not go without her. He was determined, so he doubled his efforts and his speed. He began to moan in concert with her, unable to bear the pleasure coursing through him, demanding completion.

Sarea could feel the change coming over him, could feel his wildness. He was pounding into her now relentlessly, his touch like magic against her. She felt her entire being reaching for something, reach towards the heavens and the home of the Joyous One.

She exploded.

She had thought the pleasure she had felt at his touch could not be topped, but she had been wrong. This was a pinnacle that no living being should be able to reach, and yet she had reached it. She felt as though she had, for a moment, touched heaven itself.

Sarea heard him shout out, heard him roar actually, and he stopped and strained above her body, coming inside of her, making it possible for her to bear his child. And she wanted to. Right away. To give him the heir he so desperately needed and wanted. He had not voiced desperation for an heir, but she knew he wanted it just the same.

“That’s right,”” she whispered into his ear. “Put your child inside of me.”

He drew his head back and looked down into her eyes. He saw the warmth and acceptance and need within her. She knew what he needed…what he wanted…but could just as easily do without for a time. He selfishly wanted her all to himself for a little while. Perhaps in the future he would not climax inside of her, removing the possibility. But then he realized she would take that as an insult. It would hurt her sensitive ego to think he didn’t want their child immediately.

He relaxed above her, and then slowly rolled to the left side, wincing when his shoulder hit the bed. She saw the fleeting expression and was immediately inspecting his bandage. It was stained with fresh blood.

“Garrick! You need the medic!”

“I need my wife,” he countered, pulling her across his body so that she was belly to belly with him, her thighs straddling his, her breasts settled warmly on his chest. He felt he could stay that way forever.

“At least allow me to change the bandage. This one is almost soaked through.”

“In a little while. Right now I wish to rest and simply look at you.”

Sarea smiled at him. Sometimes the things he said pleased her so ridiculously it was difficult to manage. But she also felt that he always did all of the pleasing and she did little of it in return.

“Will you tell me?” she asked him. “Will you tell me how to make you happy…in this way?” She indicated their naked bodies.

“You already make me happy. Or had you not noticed me roaring down the heavens.”

“Yes but…there is more to it isn’t there? More things for us to do? More ways I can please you?”

“Yes. Much more. But we will take them one step at a time.”

“I wish to do them all tonight,” she said firmly.

Garrick laughed at her. “No man has the stamina to do that!”

“But I wish to please you!” she argued anxiously.

“How many ways can I say this? You do please me. You have pleasured me more tonight than any other woman ever has. Because,” he said when he saw her doubting expression, “none have meant as much to me as you do. You have become quite precious to me these last shona.”

“I do not know what to say,” she said, taken quite breathless with his declaration. “It is not necessary for you to say such things to me. I would rather we speak plainly to one another.”

“I do speak plainly,” he said. “I speak truth. Nothing more nothing less. Haven’t I promised to do so?”

“Yes.”

“And haven’t you promised to do the same?”

“Yes, I have.”

“Then know my words are truth. My true feelings. You are not required to feel the same as I do, but I hope that one day you will come to care for me equally.”

“Oh, but that day is here! Today!” At his doubtful look she said, “Remember, we are speaking plain truths. When I saw you shot today, it was as if the bottom had dropped out of the world. For those brief moments I feared living life without you in it. It would be a terribly cold and lonely place. It is only because of you and your warmth that I am able to bear Isobol’s death. It is only you who has filled my days like no one else ever has before. You must promise not to leave me. I could not bear it.”

He words made him smile. He felt such pleasure at hearing them it made him quite dizzy with joy. He could tell she meant every word. Perhaps soon they would discuss the matter of being trumates. She had to be noticing things by now. She most certainly would now that they were truly mated. As a mated pair they would develop power and ability that compared to nothing else. They would be able to hear each other’s thoughts. Feel each other’s emotions. Beat each other’s heart, breathe each other’s breath. It was an overwhelming experience. One he hoped she was ready for.

“Very well then, I shall stay. For a little while at least,” he said teasingly. “Certainly long enough to get you with son.”

“You could just as easily get me with daughter,” she said uneasily. “But we do breed strong sons in my family. As you know my mother bred four and my grandmother bred five.”

“A truly great pedigree,” he said seriously. “I am fortunate to have an excellent breeder. However, I should like to keep you to myself for a while. I would be just as happy were you not to breed too quickly.”

“Would you?” His words seemed to ease her worried mind. “Well, I will strive to do my best in any event.”

“I know that you will. And I know that it could just as easily happen that even working at your best you may not be able to provide me with any children at all. These things are up to fate and chance. But know that, were that to happen, I would still care for you deeply.”

“Do not even speak such things aloud. Do you wish for the Joyous One to hear you and think to test you at your word? No. We will have sons…and plenty of them,” she said firmly.

“As you say, kitten, so shall it be.”

“I do say. And now I say it’s time to change your bandage for fresh.”

“Yes, my lady,” he said with a smile.

“Yes, my
queen
,” she corrected airily. “You must get used to it.”

“But of course, my queen. Whatever you say, my queen. Your wish will be done, my queen.”

“Thank you, my king,” she said with a smile. Then she sat up and winced. “I do believe you’ve used me ill, my king,” she said.

“Does it hurt?” he asked, all concern. “Shall I rub it and make it better?” he added with lechery.

“Fiend!” she cried, smacking away his hands as he tried to fondle her. “I’ll not be swayed!”

“Do let me try!”

He grabbed her rolled over with her, pinned her beneath himself.

“Let me up!” she commanded him. “No! Stop! I’ll not be swayed!” She laughed as his mouth fastened to one of her nipples and his hands caressed the fullness of her curves. It was getting very difficult to resist him! But resist she must. She decided to play dirty. As dirty as he was in any event. She grabbed his injured shoulder and squeezed.

“Ah!” he shouted, rearing up to look at her in surprise. “Why would you do that?”

“I told you, I’m changing this bandage. Now, once that is done…well… then you may have your way with me.”

Garrick immediately let her up and she hopped out of bed and moved to the medicinal supplies the medic had left behind him. There were several fresh bandages there and some antiseptic juices. She was no medic, but she did recognize that from her own injury.

She armed herself with the bottle and turned to look at him.

“This might sting a little,” she said wickedly.

Chapter Twenty

Sarea woke the next morning with a heavy head. She had not drunk much last night, but she had certainly reveled. She had barely slept, making demands on the king, making him show her, as well as he was able, all the ways she could pleasure him.

He was asleep next to her, looking like the devilish satyr that had seduced her so thoroughly even in his sleep. He was a man of much appetite, that was to be certain. She could only hope to keep up with him. So far she could say she had met with success.

Today was her coronation. It was tradition that the queen be coroneted the day after the marriage was consummated. The day after the wedding ideally. It would be another day of feasts and drink. Her brother had been held responsible for all of the details in planning the coronation ceremony…with a little help from Jesso. But by asking for help, Dakon was finally proving himself to be growing wiser and far less cocky.

Sarea sat up and regarded her husband. He was half covered in the heavy blankets they had pulled around themselves as the night had grown colder. The serving girl had been let in to start the fire in the room, but then ushered out just as quickly. She smiled as she remembered Garrick taking her on the fur rug that lay in front of the fire shortly after.

She reached out and trailed her fingertips over his chest then down his breastbone then over the ridges of his abdomen, touching every one in a bumpy road toward his navel. Here the blankets got in the way, a combination of quilt and fur that kept them very warm but were also keeping treasures hidden away.

She slid her hand beneath and found him, warm and firm, but hot hard. Not yet. She wrapped her hand around him and stroked him. Then stroked him again, exactly the way he had taught her to. From root to tip, root to tip. He stirred, mumbling something, and grew hard in her hand. She let go of him to push the covers back, exposing him to the chill room air, but that did nothing to quell his erection. She was cold herself, sitting there cross-legged and naked. But she was starting to warm in better ways, internal ways. Seeing him hard, feeling him stirring from his dreams, got her excited for what was to come. Sure, she was a little sore from being overused the night before, but she didn’t mind.

She bent forward, coming up on her knees and took the head of his shaft in her mouth. When he had taught her this she had been shocked at first, but she had quickly learned the power it gave her over him. As strong as he was, as powerful as he was, he became helpless when she gave him this pleasure. Helpless to do anything but feel. She could make him beg for release, could keep it from him. She could get anything she wanted…just from doing this.

She held him in her hand, licking him around the rim, taking him in and sucking on him. She knew the very exact minute he woke up. He put his hand in her hair and she looked up his body to see his sleepy regard of her. He was no doubt just as tired as she was…and it had been wrong of her to wake him…but she found she had an appetite for him that was growing by leaps and bounds and it needed to be satisfied.

“Good morning, wife,” he said, his voice raspy. He checked the sunlight streaming into the room. “Or should I say good noon. Your coronation will be beginning shortly and we are still abed.”

“Jesso will come for us when the time is nigh,” she said, bending her head back to her task.

“Yes but…ah, damn that feels good,” he ground out. “But do you not need to prepare? To dress yourself and your hair and all the things you women like to do?”

“Are you saying I should stop? If that is the case then clearly I am not doing this right,” she said with a concentrated frown.

“You…I…” He didn’t seem to know how to handle the situation. He always knew how to handle a situation. Finally he said, “Carry on.”

She did so, muffling a snicker of satisfaction. She licked him from tip to root and back again and he growled at the hot, wet sensation of her tongue upon him. She had learned fast and well and was determined to give him pleasure at every turn…sometimes to the detriment of her own. She was so focused on his pleasure that she ignored herself. This was a prime example.

“Come and bring yourself to me,” he said, his voice a low rasp.

“How do you mean?” she asked, pausing to regard him with curiosity.

“Turn your body until you are straddling my shoulders.”

As always she did exactly what he asked of her, turning herself until he found himself looking up and seeing creamy pink flesh and dark damp curls. He curved his hands up over her hips and on until he was grasping her by her buttocks. He pulled her down to him, raised his head and ran his tongue over her juicy lips, sucking and nibbling at her everywhere he could reach. All the while he bore up under the passionate sucking of her mouth on his cock.

From then on it seemed to be a race to see who could make the other come first. She had a head start on him, but he had many yana of control on his side. Just the same, when she dipped her head and sucked first one ball onto her mouth then the other, it was all he could do to keep focused. He had not taught her that trick. She was improvising. Learning. And she was very good at it. She found the sensitive spot just beneath his sac and rubbed him there as she sucked him harder. It quickly became all that he could do to keep from coming in her mouth right then. And he wanted to do that. He wanted to feed her his seed until she was overflowing with the heat of it. Just the thought of it put him at the very edge.

Determined to take her with him, he found her clit and sucked the pleasuring bud between his lips. Then he flicked and swirled his tongue until he felt her squirming. She moved against him, presumably to get him to give her better pleasure. He did so by licking her at the same time that he stroked her, finally working a finger into her. She moaned, the vibration of it tremoring down the length of his cock. As he worked her harder, she did the same. In the battle of wills…he was losing.

His orgasm almost blindsided him, it was just that violent. He had known it was coming of course, but still it felt shocking and awe inspiring to him. He burst apart in her mouth, jetting his release against her tongue. She surprised and pleased him by swallowing every drop. He had not come in her mouth before this, always preferring to be deep in her body, so he should have taken a measure of her feelings on the matter, but she had taken it all in stride and, he could tell, with pride and satisfaction.

She gave him a few last licks, making certain he was clean, which amused him, and then went to move, only to find her hip locked in his free hand and her attention drawn back to the finger inside of her and the pleasure he was working on her body. She squirmed as he redoubled his efforts, sliding a second finger inside of her and swirling his tongue around her clit. He flicked and sucked, sucked and flicked until she could hardly bear it any longer. So much heat and pleasure had built inside of her that she couldn’t sit still. She rolled her hips against his mouth again and again. Her fingers gripped the bedding tightly until she felt everything come to a head within her body in a violent rush of ecstasy.

She came hard, her walls clamping down on his fingers like a vice. The feel of it was enough to make him hard again, hard with the craving to be inside of her.

But that would have to wait, he realized, as he became aware of someone knocking on the bedroom door. Someone had entered the suite and was bold enough to interrupt them when they were obviously, and loudly, preoccupied. That could only mean one person.

He spanked Sarea’s bottom with a playful slap then rolled her off of himself.

“Cover up,” he instructed her as he walked to the basin and mirror and washed his hands and face. He dried them both off as he walked, fully naked, to answer the door. He checked to make certain Sarea was well beneath the covers, and then he opened the door and let Jesso in.

Jesso had a grin on his face as he crossed the threshold.

“My king, my queen,” he greeted with a respectful bow. “Forgive me for interrupting, but your coronation is in an hour, my queen, and your maids are awaiting you in your room to prepare you for the ceremony.”

As was tradition, the bride’s maids were also her honor maids at her coronation the next day. They would dress her and ready her for receiving her crown.

“All of my maids?” she asked, suspecting she knew what the answer would be.

“Save Gersa,” Jesso said. “She is not feeling well and will, regretfully, miss out on the coronation.”

“That is a shame,” Sarea said. But she had suspected something like this might happen. She was shocked Gersa had actually served her yesterday. It was clear the act had galled her. At least, it had by the end of the day. Her veneer of civility had cracked after the assassination attempt had failed. It led her to believe more than ever that Gersa was somehow responsible for their pain. Sarea would not rest until she had gotten to the bottom of it. Her husband would go about it his way, and she would go about it hers.

“Very well,” she said to Jesso, “I will attend them directly.”

Jesso nodded and gave them another bow. He was leaving the room when Garrick asked, “What of our would-be assassin?”

“He refuses to change from his truform,” Jesso said. “But give it time. A few days without his freedom should make him more tractable.”

“Perhaps. I suspect it will take much stronger methods than merely removing him from his freedom.”

“Well, we have those as well,” Jesso said with a frown. He did not care for torture…and he knew Garrick didn’t either. But they would do everything necessary to get to the truth. Their lives depended on it.

“Perhaps a little trickery is a better idea,” Garrick said thoughtfully. “Let me think on it a while. Now leave so I may send my wife to her rooms.”

“Yes, my king,” he said with another bow. There was amusement written in all his looks and Sarea blushed. It was quite one thing to do a thing, and quite another to realize everyone knew they were doing that thing.

Garrick shut the door in Jesso’s wake. Then he turned to his blushing bride.

“Go on. Off with you,” he said, reaching to yank back the covers. She squealed when he grabbed her, set her on her feet, and then spanked her to propel her toward the adjoining door between their bedrooms. She rubbed her lightly abused fanny and gave him a pout before heading through the door.

Once she was gone, Garrick could breathe a little clearer. When she was around he couldn’t seem to think of anything other than how to get back inside of her. He was, he realized, quite addicted to his wife. And this after only one night of having her. He had the distinct feeling he was in a great deal of trouble. Having never experience a trumate relationship, having never even seen one during his lifetime, made him ill prepared for what was happening. He would have to make a point of finding a trumated couple and interviewing them on what to expect and how to manage what was happening. He would also want to know from the female how to prepare his wife for what was to come.

As Sarea readied herself for her coronation, her maids kept giggling and asking her to share the details of her night with the king. But she felt the need to preserve their private time to just that. Private. It was none of their business how good a lover he was. Nor were any of the details. He was hers now, and no one was going to make her share any part of him if she had any say in the matter.

“Enough!” she commanded after a while, startling them into silence. “The king is everything I expected him to be and I will leave it at that. Do not ask me any further questions.”

“Yes, my queen,” they all chorused.

It was odd to hear her childhood companions addressing her so formally. She supposed she would have to get used to it. But Jesso had called her ‘my queen’ and it had somehow felt right. More right than she had imagined it would. Perhaps it was the casual way he said it. It simply put her at ease.

She had come to appreciate Jesso in her husband’s life these past shona. Jesso was more than her husband’s Trusted, he was his very best friend. He was to the king what Isobol had been to her. Confidant, advisor, trusted friend…sister, for all they didn’t share the same blood. Jesso was all that and as a brother to the king. And so Sarea would treat him as such. She would hold him in the same esteem her husband did.

Sarea had the women dress her hair down. It felt odd to not have it in its noose out in public, but it was tradition that she wear her hair down for her coronation, signifying she was virgin no more. She had them put flowers in the ends of her hair, leaving her head bare for the placement of her crown. She was wearing her wedding dress again, the scarlet color contrasting sharply with her black hair. Her blue eyes stood out as well.

She viewed herself critically in the mirror and, satisfied, she moved to go into the hallway. Just before she did the door between her bedroom and the king’s opened, admitting her husband, who was dressed once again all in white. Her maids all dropped into low curtsies, their heads bowed and necks bared. The king approached her and pulling her into his arms he kissed her forehead.

“I would have you wear your hair bound in public so that no other might see you this way but me,” he said softly.

“But—“

“I know. It is tradition. And I will accept it this once. But for the future, promise me no one but me will see it unbound.”

“I do so promise,” she vowed sincerely.

“Good. Come. Let’s see you crowned. Our people need good excuse to continue their celebrations and libations from yesterday.”