Her scent heated with roses, her bond
smoldering in his mind, but Dharman felt the uneasy flutter in her stomach.
:Not like this.:
:Why
not?:
He kissed her neck and laved Rhaekhar’s old mark on
her shoulder with his tongue while he worked at the closure on her pants.
:No sense in dirtying your sheets before
your bath.:
He worked the leather open and slid his
hands back around her waist, giving Sal time to lick his way down her stomach.
He bit the tender flesh, a light pinch between his teeth, and her entire body
jolted between them.
Her breath caught in her throat. Sal’s
tongue dipped into her belly button and she fisted her hands in his hair.
:I feel like we’re performing.:
Dharman breathed heavily in her ear and
slowly worked the leather down her hips.
:We
are.:
:I
don’t want him to watch.:
:Whyever
not?:
Pausing, he met the Keldari’s dark gaze that blazed
with a combustible mixture of lust and jealousy. He smiled and hoped the dragon
drowned on his own drool.
:How else will
he know what you like?:
Sal must have worked his tongue deeper
through her gaping pants, for her head fell back on a ragged moan.
“Jorah.” The golden Blood stepped closer
but stayed out of the Keldari’s line of sight. Dharman gave him a brief nod of
approval. “Take off her boots.”
Jorah untied the laces and removed her
boots and thick socks, carefully cradling each foot like a priceless object.
Without moving away, he gave Dharman a very hopeful look.
Which gave him the perfect opportunity
to ensure the desert
tal
understood
exactly how low down the hierarchy he would be. “Since Sal is otherwise
occupied, you might as well get those leather pants off while you’re down
there.”
Jorah flashed a smile as bright as the
sun and tugged the leather down her legs. He rubbed his palms down the curve of
each thigh at the same time, obligingly lifting her leg, widening her for Sal
who’d gone so deep she was practically sitting on his shoulders.
Gripping her chin, Dharman tilted her
head to fully expose her neck and shoulder for his teeth.
:Look at him,
na’lanna
.:
She made a low sound of denial but she
did as he asked. Embarrassment surged in her bond a moment, but was quickly
burned away by the heated look in the Keldari’s eyes. He hadn’t moved from his
spot—the
rahke
in his shoulder had
taught him that lesson—but his eyes flashed silver and his hands gripped his
thighs, every muscle straining.
Mykal would like nothing better than to
be invited to join them.
If he behaved himself, Dharman might
consider it. After he and Sal and now Jorah had fully staked their claims.
“Jorah, her marks need attention.”
The golden Blood reached up reverently,
closed his eyes, and buried his face between her breasts. Dharman slipped his
hand down her left arm and drew her hand back over her shoulder.
She'd Healed the dragon bite into strips
of opaled rainbows carved in her flesh. Sensing his intentions, the Keldari let
a low threatening growl trickle out of his lips. Holding his gaze, Dharman
licked her forearm as blatantly and thoroughly as the savage had licked her
blood when he'd first made the wound. He claimed that mark, licking and biting
her forearm until she shuddered in his arms, her voice rising on a cry of
release.
Sal rumbled with appreciation.
And Mykal glared murder at them all.
She jerked Sal’s head back, dragging him
away so she could look into his eyes. “I want Dharman inside me. Do you still
want to be beneath me?”
Without answering, Sal grasped her hips
and drew her down as he lowered himself to his back and buried his face in the
junction of her thighs. Not to be left out, Jorah took the opportunity to kiss
her, offering the support of his chest and shoulders to lean against.
Through the bond, she asked Dharman,
:Is this within your limits?:
Vulkar, did she have to ask? The sight
of her crouched over the other Blood’s mouth sent a wave of rock-crushing lust
through him so vicious he had to wait a moment before he trusted himself to
remain in control. He jerked his
memsha
off and straddled Sal behind her. With a palm on the small of her back, he
pressed her shoulders lower and drew her buttocks back toward him. The old
white ring of teeth on her arse caught his attention, so he bent down and
kissed it first. Her muffled moan against the other Blood’s lips crumbled his
control, but the tight-eyed stare from the Keldari told Dharman to take his
time.
Enjoy
every moment. Torment us all with her pleasure.
He squeezed and kneaded her arse,
working that mark in his teeth until she shuddered again. Melting roses drowned
him, spiced with her musk until he breathed so deeply and heavily he sounded
like he’d galloped from Shanhasson to Vulkar’s Mountain without pause. With a
jerk of his head, he directed Jorah aside so he could bend her over. Without
the Blood against her mouth, the sounds she made tore through the room.
“Dharman, please, Lady above, I need
you!”
“Slow?” He stroked his palm up her back
and lowered his chest against her, although he knew exactly what she wanted.
“Gentle?”
“Fast,” she retorted. “Hard!”
Holding the Keldari’s gaze, Dharman
plunged deep and hard as she’d asked. Sal had impeccable timing, for Dharman
felt the sting of teeth through her bond. Screaming, she shuddered on another
long climax that nearly pushed them all over the edge.
He wrapped his forearm around her throat
and drew her head back against his shoulder. “Look at him while I love you. I
want him to see your pleasure and wonder if he’ll ever be invited to join us.”
Cradling her against him, he lowered his
weight to his left forearm. He wasn’t going to last long, not with her scent
smoldering so hot. He’d always loved her impassioned response, but this night
she moaned and squirmed helplessly against the red-hot brand of Sal’s insistent
tongue, and Dharman couldn't lie to himself. The Keldari’s avid attention
certainly increased her pleasure.
She was tied up in knots over this man,
worried about her Blood, wondering if she’d made a mistake in allowing the
Keldari to get so close. She couldn’t help but wonder how the man would
threaten her life. Danger thrilled through her nerves, just feet away, lending
a sharper desperation to her need.
Dharman would be no First if he didn’t
invite that temptation closer when she wanted it so badly. Eyes narrowed and
jaws clenched, he lifted his chin, waiting to see if the Keldari would
understand the signal.
The other man uncoiled from his crouch
and crawled closer, his manner guarded as though he thought he’d been invited
to a trap. There was nothing submissive about the Keldari despite all his
kneeling. He certainly didn’t creep the few paces to her, but slithered,
prowled, sinuous even in his human form. The man didn’t need a weapon to
threaten her.
She caught the scent of sandalwood and
groaned out a low, eager cry. Dharman felt the tumbling spiral in her bond,
fear twisting with desire, worry blending with need. His control slipped again,
his breathing coming faster. So close.
He ground out, “I'm First.”
The Keldari inclined his head, but
again, Dharman wasn’t fooled into thinking this man yielded to him. Mykal’s
shoulders and arms strained with tension, as though he fought not to bury teeth
and claws in his opponent. Had Rhaekhar felt the same way with Gregar,
wondering every moment if she’d change her mind and choose the other man
instead? “You are First.”
“Give her your mouth.”
Deliberately Dharman didn’t specify
exact instructions. Part of him was curious to see exactly what the Keldari
most wanted to do. Whether he’d obey or not, whether he truly cared about her
pleasure and what she desired, or if he’d simply take what he wanted.
Mykal dropped to his belly. She
immediately sought his kiss, but he avoided her mouth and pressed his lips to
her cheek and jaw. The angle was too sharp for them both to maintain the
position, so he rolled onto his back and slithered beneath her.
Closing his eyes, Dharman concentrated
wholly on her bond. He felt the Keldari’s lips on her face, the upside down
position odd but exciting. The man squirmed lower, biting and licking a path
along her jaw to her neck.
Every protective instinct Dharman
possessed roared to life. He didn’t want her throat in the dragon’s mouth. Too
late, she threw her head back and shuddered, her muscles squeezing him into
release. He felt the press of teeth in her flesh. Unerringly, the man had found
the major artery in her neck and he worked it with his teeth, biting deeper as
though he sought to tear that well open and drown in her life’s blood.
Pleasure crested in her, though, her
release pulsing through the bonds. Her marks lit up as though she’d swallowed
the moon and she cried out again so loudly that Dharman almost missed the hiss
of pain from the Keldari.
He didn’t like the blazing light of the
moon through her marks.
Nay, that wasn’t exactly right, Dharman
decided, listening to the man’s bond through her. He loved the light, relished
its burn, and drank it down as though he’d found the purest, sweetest water in
all the desert. Nevertheless, it did cause him pain.
As Light pierced Shadow, so she wounded
his heart.
Trembling, she collapsed, her upper body
curled on the Keldari’s. Dharman rolled to the side and drew her hips off Sal,
who sucked in a deep breath and cuddled against her stomach. Lying winded
himself with his muscles burning, Dharman realized the truth.
Mykal hadn’t broken her skin, not even
when they’d all been vulnerable. He’d endured pain to give her pleasure. The
mighty dragon had taken a position of weakness, on his back, throat and belly
exposed. Even with her delicate throat in his jaws, he hadn’t hurt her.
The Keldari honestly and truly loved
her.
So why, then, did Dharman’s stomach feel
like he’d swallowed a belly full of cold, razor-sharp
rahkes
?
CHAPTER
TWENTY
“BATH
NOW?” MYKAL ASKED, HIS VOICE LIGHT WITH HOPE.
Shannari groaned out a laugh and pushed
up enough to look into his face. His silvered eyes had faded back to desert
night. She fingered the slit in the shoulder of his black shirt. The material
was stiff with drying blood. “I’ve been a poor host.”
His brows climbed, his eyes flaring with
surprise. He shared a glance with Dharman that was purely male and more
sympathetic than anything they’d managed to communicate since the Keldari had
joined them. Mykal must have decided she was joking and laughed. “I have oil.”
She pushed away and sat up so quickly
that she almost smashed Dharman’s nose with her skull. “No, no thank you. No
oil.”
Confusion flickered across Mykal’s face
but he didn’t press the issue.
“Are you thirsty?”
Heat flared in his eyes and he dropped
his gaze down her body. “
Iyeh
.”
She blew out a sigh and let Dharman help
her to her feet. Sal led the way to the bath, Dharman beside her. “Water and
caffe are on the table. If you want wine or something else, I’ll send for it.”
At the door, she glanced back over her
shoulder and caught the Keldari staring with a decidedly dazed expression at
her backside. “If you’re hungry, you’ll find bread, cheese, and fruit too.”
“Sands swallow me.” His throat worked,
his voice hoarse. “I wondered why your Red had been so diligent. Now I know.”
He jerked his gaze up to her face, rose in a fluid wave, and strode after her.
“Food and drink can wait. I ask most humbly that you allow me to tend that
particular mark next time.”
She felt Dharman’s narrowed gaze on the
Keldari but he didn’t object, since that mark wasn’t his. She knew better than
to even think about letting Mykal touch his or Sal’s marks in her breasts.
At the sight of the bath, Mykal jerked
to a halt as hard as if he’d slammed into a stone wall. He stared at the pool
of water, his mouth falling open. He even recoiled a step, bumping into Lew and
Jorah at his back.
Sal took her hand as she went down the
steps into the water, for the stone did get rather slippery. Steam swirled
about her, the water so hot she had to enter by degrees. Ah, so good, though.
Instantly, she felt muscles unclenching, aches melting away. She glanced back
at Mykal and he still gaped, looking at her, the water, and back to her.
“You sit in it? This precious water? You
wash in it?”
“
Iyeh
,”
she drawled out. Evidently he didn’t know whether to shudder with revulsion or
chase her with his scimitar for committing such sacrilege. “I assure you, Mykal
tal
’Mamba, we have plenty of water to
spare.”