PRESENT DAY
Tyronian watched as all around him people danced, laughed, and ate in celebration of his and Namoriee’s marriage. A cadence of drums kept tempo for the piccolos and lutes as they played happy and upbeat songs to match the mood of the celebrators. Fires were blazing all around, illuminating the Izayges village and their guests.
Many had made the travel to witness their union. Ever since the war, the relationship between the Izayges, Asori, and Siraces had improved, and there was a sense of comradery between them that only going to battle for each other could achieve. Their wedding had taken place at sunset, and Tyronian knew that the image of Namoriee walking towards him in her wedding gown would stay with him forever. She had looked so beautiful; it had made his breath falter.
Everything was perfect except . . . Tyronian looked to his right, at Namoriee’s empty seat.
He had tried to give her enough time to prepare herself. She knew as well as he did what would happen tonight. He knew she must be scared, so he wanted to give her a few more moments of innocence before he took it away.
But, he couldn’t deny that it was getting harder for him to stay at their wedding reception.
All he could think about was claiming his new wife, whom he had been in love with for years. He thought of how her face would look when he pushed inside her, owning her body in a way that he’d make sure no other man would. His blood surged, his arousal becoming evident beneath his breeches. He gave himself a few moments to calm down before he pushed out of his chair and stood. His absence went unnoticed as he made his way to his home.
He’d waited two years, and he couldn’t wait any longer.
It was time to make Namoriee his once and for all.
The door opened, and Namoriee knew it was Tyronian without having to look up. He had a presence that called to her, like an invisible cord connected them. It was a pull that she spent most of her time trying to ignore, but it only grew stronger.
From the moment he had stolen one of her firsts, put his hands and mouth where no one had before, her body yearned for him. For that release only he could offer. But it wasn’t just her body reacting to him; it was her heart, too.
It yearned for him each time he put her happiness above his own, each time he had protected her, or when he offered his silent comfort. However unwilling she was to admit it.
This time, his presence was pulling her in for an entirely different reason.
Her heart was pounding with the different emotions that swirled inside of her. Nervousness, no small amount of fear, and another emotion that she absolutely refused to acknowledge—anticipation.
“You can’t ignore me forever,” he whispered in her ear, causing her to jump. She didn’t hear him walk over. She shivered when she felt his beard brush against her temple as he nuzzled her.
“Look at me.”
She shook her head. She didn’t want to look at him. It would make this moment too real.
She heard him sigh, and then his palm cupped her cheek, lifting her head so that she had no choice.
“Am I really that horrid that you weep at the sight of me?” He frowned, his thumb catching the tear that had spilled over.
Namoriee escaped his caring expression by closing her eyes. She didn’t want to see the gentleness he possessed, because in a few moments she knew it would be a lie.
“Please, Tyronian, there’s still t-t-time,” Namoriee trembled. “Just let me go.”
Once he stole her innocence, their marriage would be binding. His grip changed; he knew what she was asking.
He picked her up then, wrapping his arm around her waist and lifting. She gasped, wrapping her legs around his waist instinctively and gripping his shoulders so that she wouldn’t fall. The new position brought her mouth level with his, to which he immediately used in his favor.
His kiss was gentle and undemanding. He kissed her lips as though they were delicate, like if he pressed too hard he would bruise them. He pulled away, and she shivered at the emotion in his eyes.
“Don’t ever ask me to let you go, Namoriee,” he said, his breath against her lips. “That’s something I’ll never be able to do. You’ll have to kill me first.”
He was in complete control of his movements as he lowered her down onto the bed until he hovered above her, keeping his lips meshed with hers. He knew she was nervous and scared, he could feel it in all her trembles, but he didn’t want her to fear him.
He wanted to love her.
He refused to be like the other husbands, to force himself on her painfully. Too many times he had heard of maidens who would recall their deflowering with looks of terror and pain encompassing their faces. He didn’t want that for Namoriee, and while he knew that he would hurt her—it was inevitable—he could at least give her pleasure first to try to make it as painless as possible.
Even if that required every molecule of his self-control.
His tongue flicked out, sucking on her lush bottom lip until she yielded, accepting his invitation. Their tongues danced with each other, swirling and touching in different tempos until he felt her body lose its tension so that she was soft and pliable against him.
At the unconscious submission, he turned his attention elsewhere, trailing soft kisses down her jaw and neck. He smiled against her skin when she moaned quietly as he swirled his tongue against her collarbone. He made his way back up until his mouth was pressed against hers again, giving her a peck before he pulled away. Her chest was heaving, which drew his attention to her breasts that rose and fell erratically.
He couldn’t wait to taste her.
“I’m going to take your dress off,” he told her as he fingered the bodice of her dress. She visibly stiffened at that. “I’m just going to take it off, nothing else,” he promised.
For now, he thought as he reached for the hem of the simple but beautiful white dress.
It had a scoop neckline, quarter sleeves, and a long trail and dip in the back that exposed her spine and shoulder blades. The dress was elegant, fitting of Namoriee’s innocence yet hinting at the daring woman he knew she hid. He tugged the dress off.
“No,” he barked, a bit harsher than he meant to, when Namoriee covered herself with her arms. He softened his tone. “I want to look at you,” he said as he pried her arms away, leaving her bare to his gaze.
She was beautiful.
Her bronze skin, darker than most, shimmered like a star against the firelight. Her long, chocolate hair fanned out on his pillows and around her oval face. He trailed his eyes downward.
Her breasts were oval, her nipples a lighter brown than the rest of her. He cupped them, admiring how they fit perfectly in his palm. He brushed his thumb over a nipple, causing Namoriee to inhale sharply at the sensation. He bent slowly so as not to scare her, his eyes on hers the entire time while he flicked the peaked bud with his tongue. Her spine arched, so he alternated his attentions, loving the sounds she made each time he did.
“Tyronian?” she whispered breathlessly when his mouth traced a path down her toned stomach, strands of his hair tickling her skin along with his open-mouthed kisses. She jumped in surprise when his tongue swirled around her belly button, before continuing its path downward.
“T-T-Tyronian . . . ?” Her alarm was evident when he passed the patch of brown hair over her mound and settled between her legs, palms spread wide across her inner thighs and pushing them apart.
He caught her gaze when he dove in, giving her one long, flat-tongued lick up her cleft. He placed his hand on her hips, holding her still when her back bowed, hips lifting against the sensation as he teased her with his tongue.
He didn’t hold back. He licked, suckled, and nipped, relishing in the taste of her and the way her body trembled beneath his hand.
“Tyronian!” she whimpered, high-pitched and whiny, which clued him in on the fact that she was close.
He rounded his tongue, stuck it into her tight hole, and groaned when warmth flooded his mouth. He brought her release that way once more before he pulled back, quickly shedding out of his clothes before covering her with his body again, sealing his mouth onto hers so that she tasted herself on his tongue. She stilled when she felt his erection press into her skin, but she relaxed when he made no further movements. She jumped slightly when his hand brushed her ribs.
“It tickles,” she mumbled in embarrassment at his grin.
“Sorry,” he lied.
His hands moved down in between her thighs, and she stiffened, then shivered when he tentatively ran a finger along her opening. She let out a quiet groan when he dipped his finger inside of her.
“How’s that feel?” he whispered, pressing a kiss to the side of her head. Though he had touched her this way before, it had been awhile since he’d last stroked her.
She didn’t answer, whether because she was embarrassed or she didn’t want to admit that he was making her feel good, he wasn’t sure. He eased his finger out and then pushed it back in gently, trying to prepare her for when he entered her completely. He added another finger, keeping his ministrations slow and easy until her breathing escalated.
He could feel her walls start to tighten around his digits, her womb quivering. He used his thumb to brush against her swollen nub and watched with heated eyes as she came apart.
When her eyes opened, feverish and still reeling from her orgasm, he kissed her softly. He saw the apprehension on her face when she realized what he was about to do.
“Try to relax,” he whispered, aligning himself against her opening.
He kept his eyes locked on her face when he began to ease inside of her; her features grew tight with discomfort, her nails biting into his shoulders as a pained whimper escaped her lips.
She was so tight and warm around him, her body fighting against him in such a way that made it difficult to hold back his urge to surge inside of her. He took hold of her wrists and pinned them above her head, interlocking their fingers.
He could feel the tremble in her hands even as she gripped his tightly. He knew she knew what was coming by the flare in her eyes. He dipped his head, his nose brushing against her cheek as he nuzzled her tenderly.
“I’m not ready,” she whispered tearfully. He tensed, a muscle in his jaw ticking.
“I’m sorry, Namoriee,” Tyronian said huskily with barely restrained lust and longing in his voice. “I would do anything you ask of me, but this.” He lifted his head, his expression softening at what he saw. “I’ve wanted you for so long, and now that I can finally have you . . .” he exhaled shakily. “I can’t. I need you.”
His hips pulled back, and he surged forward while his lips descended, tearing through her hymen and swallowing back her pain-filled cry with his kiss in one smooth motion.
Namoriee had never felt pain like she did now.
The suddenness of it caused tears to well up in her eyes. She felt too full. Every one of her nerve-endings was screaming in pain at the intrusion.
Even the smallest of movements felt like fire. She was only half aware of Tyronian as he chased away her escaped tears with kisses, whispering unintelligible praises to sooth her.
“Please don’t move,” she gasped, clutching his hand that still held hers. He stopped immediately.
“Tell me what you need,” Tyronian rumbled lowly, and she was surprised to feel the slightest tremble from his body.
She blinked, her eyelashes sticking together from her tears. He was looking down at her, his teeth gritted together tightly, almost as if he was angry. He must have sensed her trepidation because his eyes softened.
“Tell me what to do, sweet girl.”
“Just . . . stay still. Please. I need—” Her voice caught on the last word, another tear leaking from the corner of her eye. She didn’t have to finish though; he seemed to know what she was asking.
“Tell me when, beautiful.”
He lowered himself until they were chest to chest, giving her time to adjust. He distracted her with his soft caresses of her body and the taste of his lips. He took his time, and no matter how much she resented him and the situation he’d forced her into, she couldn’t help but be grateful for his patience. He never rushed her, seemingly content to just touch her, even if he was still buried inside of her.
Gradually, her body relaxed, her walls stretching to accommodate his hardness. He waited for her whispered “okay” before he slowly began to withdraw. He let out a garbled curse when he drove back inside of her, and Namoriee gasped at the sensation. He continued his thrusting in slow movements.
“You okay?”
Namoriee couldn’t answer, because it still hurt. Then, awhile later, even though she still felt residual pain, a different sensation was starting to zing through her. An unexplainable need was swirling inside of her, making her body flare up and causing tingles to spread within her with each thrust.
His lips curled up into a wicked grin, his eyes hooding as he looked at her. “That feels good, doesn’t it, Namoriee?”
She answered with a moan, her nails digging into his hand when he started to thrust into her marginally harder.
“I think you like the way my cock claims you. Your body knows it’s mine to take. Mine to do with as I please,” Tyronian rasped down at her.
He shifted, gripping her around her waist as he plunged into her with more unleashed movements. The new angle brought newfound pleasure/pain, and she couldn’t help but cry out at the feel of it. He was hitting something inside of her that made her feel like she was going to implode with sweet agony.
“Tell me, Namoriee. Tell me you like the way my cock feels inside of you. Tell me that you’re mine.”
“Tyronian!”
“While I love the way my name comes out of your mouth, those aren’t the words I’m looking for.”
Somehow, he could grin, even though he was panting just as much as she was. She didn’t know how he could do anything at all. She felt like her body was in a whirlpool of pleasure, the twinges of pain just adding to the inferno. She was a captive inside her own body, with Tyronian as her master.
“Gods, look at you,” he panted, gripping her hip tighter. “You’ve never looked so beautiful.”
“Tyronian!” Namoriee whimpered, close to the edge. “I need . . . I think—”
“I know what you need, my sweet,” Tyronian whispered, reaching between them to rub his fingers in circles against the part of her body that throbbed the most. “You need to soak me with your release.”
He pressed down on her, hard, and Namoriee saw stars as her body seized. Her moan was loud and drawn out as she clamped down around him tight, bringing him with her.
Panting, Tyronian slumped on top of her, careful not to crush her with his weight. She was trembling beneath him with the aftershock of her orgasm, and never in his twenty-nine years had Tyronian experienced the amount of pleasure he just now felt.
No woman had ever felt as amazing clamped around his cock the way she had. It made him feel powerful, sated yet energized.
He lifted his head, staring down at his wife’s flushed face. Gods, she was his wife.
Primal heat flooded him and made his cock twitch. He wanted to possess her again, to bend her over and take her from behind, so that her ass pressed into him as he spanked her, blemishing her skin and leaving his mark. He wanted to dominate her.
But that was for another day.
“You okay?” he asked, smoothing back damp hair from her forehead.
She didn’t answer him and instead just turned her head away. He could see tears start to gather in her eyes. He sighed. He knew this would be a possible reaction. Leawyn had warned him, but he still felt the pang in his chest her tears caused.
He pushed himself up, gently pulling out of her as he did. Namoriee whimpered when he did, but other than that, she continued to stay silent. He padded across the room to the basin he kept there. He picked up the rag and wiped himself off. He paused at the blood that coated his member before continuing, rinsing the rag out again.
With one knee on the bed, he gently pried Namoriee’s stiff legs apart and tenderly started to wipe the blood that was smeared on her skin.
“Sorry,” he whispered when she flinched. He cupped her gently as he continued to clean her. Throwing the rag aside, he lay down and pulled a stiff Namoriee against him, guiding her head to rest against his chest.
“You didn’t have to do that,” Namoriee said quietly.
“I like taking care of you,” Tyronian replied simply. He glanced down at her, only to see that she was already staring up at him. “I’ll always take care of you, Namoriee,” he vowed.
Namoriee stayed silent, and he kept his stare steady when she searched his eyes. She broke eye contact first, and they didn’t speak for the rest of the night.
Even long after she fell asleep, Tyronian watched her. His heart was pounding, and for the first time in his life, he felt fear of the future, because right then, he knew that his life depended on the girl wrapped in his arms. He couldn’t live without her, and for once in his life, he had a weakness his enemies could exploit. His already overwhelming protective instinct for her flared and grew to a new echelon. He would go mad if she were hurt because of him.
Xavier’s craziness over Leawyn made so much more sense now.