Not wanting the outrageous pleasure to end too soon, he heroically pulled her away from her new toy and latched onto one of her rosy nipples. It didn’t really help his situation because her breasts were perfection and the answering throaty moan he received had his cock leaking from the tip in sweet anticipation. Deciding to mix things up a little, he thought of a book he had seen Max reading in the library. She had placed the book face down and left to get a drink and he may have taken a peek. He had been shocked and more than a little aroused by the words on the page. Assuming she liked that kind of thing he released the delicate morsel in his mouth, raised his right hand and brought it down firmly on her rump.
She froze. There was no sexy moan, no shudder of passion, no begging for more.
Fuck!
Ryker thought. Had he made a huge mistake? He was about to ask when her shoulders started to shake. Oh God, was she crying? His erect hardware now completely forgotten he forced Max’s chin up so he could see her face. What he saw there had him cringing. This was way worse than tears.
She was laughing.
“Did you just
spank
me?” Max sputtered out between snort-laughs.
Jeez, talk about emasculating. The woman was crying from laughter while they were both naked and in the throes of passion. He was never trying anything new again! “No. My hand slipped.” He replied stoically.
She slapped him on the chest, “It did not! You totally spanked me!” Then she fell against him in another fit of giggles.
He felt himself shrivel and thought maybe she had cured him of all future boners. She must have noticed his embarrassment for she started to pet him like a damn puppy.
“Oh, babe. I’m sorry. Come on, do it again.” Her eyes still held too much mischief to be taking the situation seriously.
“No.” He pouted. “You’ve completely ruined the mood.”
“No seriously.” She got up on her hands and knees and wiggled that pert butt of hers provocatively in his direction. “Spank me, big boy. I’ve been a very bad girl.”
The merriment in her eyes and the smile on her face belied her words and instead of accepting her invitation he ended up pouncing on her and tickling her into submission. This here was the other side of the lust he felt for her; the laughter and the playfulness he never knew could exist between bed mates. He was so hers.
****
After a very long and very satisfying shower, Ryker indulged himself in learning every inch of his beautiful woman including the sexy ink etched into the skin of her back. Max was nothing more than a puddle of warm, relaxed flesh as Ryker cruised his hands over the black and white image of a striking female; tall, willowy, toned limbs partially concealed by tight-fitting leather, dark hair styled short enough to highlight sharp cheekbones, full lips and dark eyes. She sure was attractive, he thought to himself. The woman was partially concealed by a dense, wooded forest with thick tree trunks, a sparkling stream and a winding secret path that tapered to a full moon high on Max’s right shoulder blade. The shading of the greys was cleverly done and provided depth as well as accuracy. It was a wonderful piece of artwork.
“Your tattoo is wonderful.” Ryker said, tracing a finger over the mystery woman’s fingers. He could make out another strip of leather between her middle fingers and under her palm. An archer perhaps?
Max smiled but didn’t open her eyes. “Thank you. It’s actually the cover of my first graphic novel.”
“You drew this?” He asked, surprised.
“Uh huh. I thought I was going to have an aneurysm when the tattooist started. Not because of the pain or the permanency but because I was trusting someone else to copy my work.” Expressive turquoise eyes rolled in his direction. “I’m not great with trust.”
Ryker clutched at his chest as he gasped dramatically, “Who? You? Nooooo!” She kicked at him half-heartedly and he chuckled as he snagged her foot, kissing his way up her leg, over her sassy butt and up to said ink. “She’s hot. You’re lucky I saw your front first and not your back. You may have had some competition.”
Max laughed as she snuggled back into the pillow. “I’m not worried. Sabre has my back. That’s why she’s there.”
Sabre was the name of her assassin leading lady in her novels, Ryker knew. He continued sucking up small kisses over the monotone flesh until he reached one of those coloured specks scattered subtly within the forest. Leaning back to get some perspective he frowned when he noticed a small purple pattern that looked very much like Ogham script. Ogham script was an ancient alphabet used prominently by the Celts and the Druids as far back as the fourth century AD.
The original Druids were thought to be direct descendants of the Great Mother herself – the one true Goddess and the deity that all paladins and wardens worshipped. She was said to reside in the Otherworld and was just as real as any other living creature on the planet. It was said that after the first Goddess gave birth to the world, she also gave birth to its custodians. The Druids, not corporeal but not spirit either, were the guardians of creation but as the world grew and evolution unfolded, these custodians could no longer maintain nature with all of its domains unaided. Hence, some of the first humans – the wardens – were given the ability to feel, shape and create specific elements. Warriors were tasked with protecting and providing for the revered few and a sacred bond was formed between the guard and the protector, ensuring balance was kept. The children of the Goddess were lost to obscurity but his people believed there were still a few out there; there had to be, for their chronicles dictated that a child of the Great Mother must walk the Earth in order for it to live.
Ryker knew his history just as well as every other paladin and warden out there which is why he recognised the druidic symbol but he was very surprised that Max would know what it meant, let alone want it tattooed on her back. The small purple symbol was nothing more than a short horizontal line with a vertical line protruding from its centre and it was artfully concealed in the shadows of the moon. A flash of gold caught his attention and he saw five diagonal lines parallel to each other with a horizontal line through the middle, much like a leaning tally, positioned on the neck of the woman, Sabre, almost like her own tattoo. A blue ‘tally’ symbol with only two lines was located in the stream following the path, and a pink one with only one ‘tally’ line was camouflaged within the feathers of a small owl perched on the branch of a tree.
Ryker felt his heart start to pound and his palms begin to sweat as he searched frantically for the three remaining coloured symbols he was sure had to be there. His eyes snagged on the hint of red first; it was a horizontal line with three vertical lines extending below it and was at the base of the winding path. A green horizontal line with five other vertical ones extending underneath was veiled in the foliage of the largest tree, and a slash of silver – a single horizontal line with three more extending straight up – was high up, secreted away in the clouds. His fingers trembled as he traced each one reverently. He had to swallow three times before he could speak, his mouth was that dry.
“Max?”
“Hmm?”
“What do these symbols mean to you?” His voice cracked but Max didn’t seem to notice, too content under his worshipping hands. He traced the cloud to prompt her.
“Air.” She responded.
He moved to the owl; “Beast.” His finger journeyed from the trees, down the winding path and settled in the stream, “Earth … Fire ... Water.” She continued to murmur her responses lazily as if she wasn’t making his world rotate on its axis.
He stroked his hand over the assassin’s neck; “Death.” Before finally coming to rest over the glorious full moon and the tiny purple symbol.
“Life.” He said, beating her to the punch. “This is your symbol for life.”
Max nodded and hugged the pillow tucked under her head. Ryker could tell she was almost asleep. Well, he wasn’t. He might never sleep again! His brain was computing this newfound information rapidly but still didn’t seem to be able to reckon what his gut – what his
heart
– was telling him. It just wasn’t possible. This was her Heraldry. He
knew
it was.
“Max.” He gave her a small shake when she ignored him. “
Max!
”
“What do you want Inmate? I let you defile me in the shower. If you let me sleep I may even be up for a repeat later.” She threw the provocative words at him without even opening her eyes. Ryker chose to ignore the imagery she conjured given the seriousness of the situation.
“Max, listen to me. You remember what we told you about the coat of arms that gets branded into our skin when we bond to our liege?”
“Sure, sure.”
Not a very enthusiastic response but at least she was listening, Ryker knew. “It’s unique to every warden. Every lineage has their own unique Heraldry or coat of arms that is distinct only to the individual. It’s like a fingerprint; no two are ever alike and it’s a direct reflection of their domain. That’s why paladins wear it with such honour and pride.”
Max finally rolled over and blinked sleepily up at him. She made no move to cover the lush mounds of her breasts and despite himself, Ryker felt himself begin to harden once again at the sight. Having apparently no guile whatsoever, Max spoke;
“I remember, Ryker. I’m sorry yours has faded since Flint died and you lost your Order. Would you like me to try to fix it? I healed your scar easy enough. Maybe I could help your brand?”
She ran her hand lightly over his muted coat of arms and Ryker fell even more in love with her. Axel had been correct; she really was the sweetest, most pure person. He leaned down to kiss her softly, chastely on the lips. “No babe, I don’t want you to fix it. It’s supposed to fade; time does that to all things. I brought it up because I think those symbols will be your coat of arms.”
Her eyes lit up. “My little purple symbol in the moon? Cool.”
Ryker grabbed her hand and interlocked their fingers. He couldn’t seem to stop touching her. “No, Max. Not just the symbol for life. I think
all
of them will be your Heraldry.”
She scrunched her nose and frowned. “But you said your coat of arms was reflective of your domain?”
“It is.”
“But I’m Life. You said so. So then why would –” He cut her off mid-sentence, knowing what she was going to ask.
“I was wrong.” Ryker was torn between amusement and arousal as Max moaned and arched her back, pressing her breasts into his chest.
“That is the sexiest thing I have ever heard.” Her eyes darkened to a turbulent sea-green, “Say it again, only this time … whisper it.”
He grinned down at her and dipped his head to do her bidding. “
I was wrong.
” He whispered the words against the shell of her ear and felt her sensual shudder reverberate in his own body. She was so deliciously fun. Apologising silently to his dick, he pushed away from the she-demon and started pulling on the first clothes he could find; an old pair of track pants and a threadbare tee. He threw Max’s own shirt at her, not even noticing when she ended up with a mouth full of cotton.
“Come on babe, get up!”
“What? I thought I was going to get laid again!” She grouched.
Ryker shook his head. “Do not tempt the beast darlin’. Later. Right now we need to find the others.”
Max’s scowl darkened. “The others? Why?”
“Just trust me.” He threw her jeans at her next.
She grumbled but did start moving, covering her delicious flesh top and bottom but foregoing underwear of any kind. “Fine. But I better get some action when we get back.”
Ryker laughed, he couldn’t help himself. She was just so fucking perfect and he just loved her so fucking much! He reached her in two strides and had her wrapped in his arms in seconds. “I love you.”
Oceanic eyes blinked up at him. “Um, okay. Thank you.”
Taking exactly zilch offense at her lack of reciprocation, he laughed again and spun her around. “You’re welcome,” he placed her on her feet, “now come on. Let’s go find the others.”
THIRTY-ONE
Max followed Ryker’s well-toned butt as it made its way down the spiral staircase. He had a tight hold on her palm and his thumb rubbed back and forth along the back of her hand as if he couldn’t stop touching her. She liked it. They found the rest of the household in the small beautiful garden off the library. She knew this was Lark’s own little oasis; plants, flowers, trees and hundreds of books within sniffing distance. She also knew Ryker was the one to convert the study into a reader’s paradise and give Lark free reign over the adjoining patch of once empty land. Just as she knew he had installed the indoor heated swimming pool so Cali wouldn’t have to swim outside in the rough seas of winter; the wine cellar had been built for Beyden; the home office with its huge telescope on the third floor for Darius; the stunning Concert Grand piano in the music room had miraculously appeared one day after Axel had mentioned he played; and Diana had a suite of rooms at the opposite side of the house with a room just for her clothes, ensuring the quiet and seclusion she craved. Max had gleaned these little pearls over the past three weeks and each time one of the knights revealed the damming evidence of Ryker’s generosity and selflessness, Max had fallen just a little more for the man. She knew she saw him better than he saw himself and what she saw filled her with warmth and hope for the future.
“What are you all doing out here?” She asked, eyeing the six soldiers draped lazily around the garden.
“We had to come out here for our mental health.” Axel answered.
“Huh?” She asked, confused.
Axel motioned between her and Ryker, “The noises you two were making had the potential to scar us for life!”
“Yeah, gross!” Lark shuddered dramatically.
“Gross?! I’ll have you know that I make very cute sex noises.” She assured them all. “Right, Ry?”
“The cutest!” He answered exuberantly, clearly wanting to get laid again later.
“Gag!” Axel stuck out his tongue in disgust at Ryker’s brown-nosing.
“If you’ve finished with your mating ritual, I can go in and start dinner.” Cali said, picking up her discarded shoes.