Selected for Sport Ch. 13

"Dance or apology?" repeated Alanna softly, eyes dropping from those burning black eyes to the sleek muscle of his shoulder. Lust rippled through her, curling in her belly. He was so fierce, so impossible to ignore. Impossible to suppress the feelings he evoked. She drew a breath almost in fear at the feelings that swamped her just looking at the relaxed, sated warrior reclining at her side. Her fingertips were tracing a crescent scar on his bicep: so skilled a warrior. Who on earth had managed to get this close?

Soft lips began nuzzling her neck, tightening the excitement curling within her. And he still hadn't answered. Well, he wasn't much of a one for talking.

A memory jolted her.

"My lord." Was that breathless, needy sound really coming from her? "There is something I must tell you." She had promised herself she would at the earliest opportunity. She needed to do this now, before he distracted her again.

The lips lifted slightly. The hand that had been stroking gently up her belly towards her aching breasts stilled. He remained silent.

But he was listening to her. A little glimmer of pride surprised her.

"I was watching someone out in the water gardens, that day in the Star Chamber."

Their eyes met. His were opaque, waiting ,holding judgement while she tumbled into speech, explaining her suspicions about Hector Beguine, the woman he had met, the exchange. She even told him of the information on Beguine that her father had enclosed secretly in the last letter.

Xanir remained silent, eyes narrowed and blank, hiding the thoughts behind those deep black eyes.

"My lord, I'm sorry I didn't -."

A finger at her lips silenced her.

"Hush, little bride." The rumble of his chest shivered deliciously through her, and her blood lurched in excitement when she was rolled onto his chest, gathered in his arms, her back to his chest. "You have told me now."

One arm was snug around midriff, her head resting in the hollow of his shoulder while strong fingers massaged her scalp soothingly. "You can relax. I will take it from here, well done. Relax."

"I -."

"Shh." A rich cloak was pulled up over her body, thick silk whispering over skin alight with sensation. She shrank back into his embrace when the footsteps approached following another, louder rumble from the chest she was held against. Alanna closed her eyes and turned her head away, colour flaring in her cheeks despite the covering. The fingers stroking her scalp her very gentle while Xanir gave his orders to the guard.

***

The sun was high when she woke. Bright hot it shone beyond her eyelids, but the fierce heat was being kept at bay by a light, cool mist; water was tumbling near her head, pattering on stones.

Alanna opened her eyes.

This garden was breath-taking. She was lying on a - well, almost a bed, a wide, cushioned seat, shaded by a trellis woven with bright, green leaves that were punctuated with shocking pink flowers. Water splashed from a gargoyle in the wall some feet to her left, splashing down over a cascade of white and dark stones, cooling the air. The striking pattern of the stones held her sleepy gaze, the bright water dancing sparkling down to drop into a deep pool at a level below the raised plinth this bed was lying on.

She had slept well. For the first time in weeks.

Colours rioted every way she looked out from this viewpoint, trees shading walkways that curving every which way into the verdant green depths. In the distance a wall was decorated with woven fruit trees, above which the broad leaves of the palm in the queen's garden showed.

A hand stroked up her bare calf.

Alanna gasped, jerking around on her knees with a clenched fist raised. She landed breathless on her back; both wrists pinned above her head by a firm hand while the other took her chin and tilted it for greedy lips.

She was dazed when those lips lifted, harshly trying to bring enough air back into her lungs, blood thundering in excitement so she could barely hear. She definitely wasn't paying attention to whatever Xanir was doing above her head, and only realised when his head and hands dropped back to shape her breasts. He was murmuring praise as his tongue flickered teasingly over the straining peaks, hands holding the twin mounds proud and peaked.

She needed to crush him into her chest, stop him teasing like this. It was unbearable. Exquisite.

Her wrists were bound to something above her head.

"Xanir!" she cried in protest.

A soft chuckle answered her, and he nibbled excruciatingly excitingly on one pointed nipple. She tried a second objection, struggling against the bonds but her breath left her as a garbled groan. Teasing fingers tweaked one peak while he sucked as much of the other as he could into that hungry mouth. The hard, fierce suction was pulling the ache to the surface, tightening the need melting in her belly. Her focus was lurching constantly between the light, rhythmic twists to one nipple, the continuous, harsh pressure bringing her other breast to bursting point, and the teasing, light circles of fingers brushing down over her trembling stomach.

Her breath was bursting in short, needy pants as he teased closer, and a moan of need sounded on the air. Her body was quivering, hips dancing as she tried to entice him closer, all thought forgotten.

A finger traced like a breath of air over the peaked, demanding bud at the head of her slit. Her thighs bucked off the bed and another longing cry rent the air. Xanir smiled, lifting his head slightly to watch as her hips danced to his tune, the soft, teasing touches drawing strangled begging from his sumptuous bride. His tongue flickered out over the neglected nipple, timed with both hands squeezing gently, and his breathing grew harsh as she writhed longingly to his touch.

"Please, please, please, Xanir," she whispered.

His lust surged. Her lissom thighs were widening, twisting with beckoning, hopeful, needful movements while her slender neck arched away from the cushions, head tipped back to thrust her breasts into his hands, seeking completion. Seeking him.

No. This was for her.

He dropped down between her splayed thighs, shoulders pushing them wider while his hands drew her knees wide, breath hot on the exposed, glistening flesh.

His bride froze, alarm tensing through her muscles even as her scent thickened in the air. "What?!"

The quaver of her voice slammed need through him, the need to crush her under his weight and drive home, pounding the soft sound into the long, breathless wail when she lost herself to him. He was so close, quivering at the edge of control until he looked up into those startled, unbelieving eyes.

He loved shocking his innocent little bride. His smile was fierce: from her reaction, she had truly never done this before. She was his.

"Shh!" he returned, bending his head as he wrestled her knees wide again.

He was going to make absolutely certain she was incapable of keeping silent.

Her voice was hoarse, almost weeping when Xanir finally lifted his tongue and smiled up at the shuddering splayed form of his beautiful bride. His smile widened to her murmured pleas while he crawled up to settle over her limp form and tilt her hips. There was music in the cry that escaped her when he plunged his straining erection into her slick depths, more in the soft begging noises under the fierce rhythm of seeking his own release, noises he stopped with his tongue. Her nose wrinkled at the taste of herself, and he began to plunge his tongue into her throat in time with his cock, slamming home harder and harder as he drove her up the bed. He had held back for so long to draw out her pleasure.

She arched and shrieked again when he exploded within her, arms clinging to him as if she was falling apart. His mind whited out when his seed flooded her, ecstasy piercing him.

Slowly Xanir settled back into his skin. He became aware of her short, needy breaths under his weight, and rolled with a low groan of pleasure. He thought she was crying. The soft, gulping noises and shuddering heaves of breath. A lazy arm reached and pulled her against his side, stroking her back while her nose nuzzled his ribcage. "What?" he demanded shortly.

Her voice, when it came, was muffled against his skin. "Please Xanir, I can't -. You will send me home in a few months. Please -." She gulped, breaking off, and her voice as it finished was barely audible, breaking in the middle: "Please don't make me need you so much."

They lay in silence, his hand tracing soothing circles over her back.

"You are right." When he eventually spoke his voice was deep, and rigidly controlled. "It would be easier I no longer summoned you."

She sniffed against his skin, crying silently. "But I want you to." Her reply was muffled, voice hoarse.

Xanir sighed. Silence again, before he answered gruffly: "The choice is yours. Make your mind up."

Alanna thought. She thought of her position, and his, and the laws that bound them and would separate them. Her mind lingered on the almost unbearable delight in his touch. She felt the gentleness in the calloused hand stroking her spine. Remembered the gleam in his eye earlier, over the hilt of the sword he had passed her. Yes he was an autocratic dictator who refused to let her ride, had punished her embarrassingly publically and never backed down, but the private Xanir, the few glimpses she had had of him, was so appealing. That Xanir was almost always hidden, but now - she had relaxed him. She wanted him, not the damn Great Tahl. She knew which of them had given her those words: The choice is yours.

Her kisses to the corner of his mouth were soft, sending a ripple through Xanir that was not lust, but something else, something gentler.

"Will you let me love you for seven months?" Her tear-drenched blue eyes were pleading. Then the sparkle returned and she sat up, leaning over him. "Will you talk to me?" she demanded.

His hand cupped her cheek. "I will send you home at the end of the year," he warned gently.

"I know." Her smile wavered, then dawned again. "Imagine what you can teach me in seven months though. We got through four and you'd never done that before." Her own words were colouring her cheeks with fire.

Xanir reached for her with a laugh. "I wanted to say thank you."

Alanna heart skipped at the happy sound, but she slipped from the bench, scuttling back from his grasp, her smile widening.

"Oh no, it's my turn now. You don't think I learned this dance for nothing, do you?"