A Marq's Woman Ch. 04byKillerRomance©
"Pray tell, how did what went on between us have anything to do with affection?"
Rade stilled, his fingers still entwined in her golden curls. Confusion diffused into his demeanor as his eyes rose to meet hers.
"I cannot say, little one. I haven't thought of it that way before."
He watched as the confusion in her eyes mirrored his.
"Oh. No one has asked you of this before, Sir Rade?"
"Only Rade, Kistle. And no, no one has asked me that before." He paused. "It does make me think though…" he smiled wickedly. "…of the wonderful things that we did just now." The last line was breathed huskily against her ear. Kistle shivered involuntarily.
"Kistle?" he murmured, his stealthy fingers dipping from her hair to the beguiling curve of her neck. He massaged the tiny knot of tension there, watching as her lips parted of their own will. "Kistle, are you sore?"
Instant heat flooded her cheeks and she averted her eyes, not wanting him to see the embarrassment in them. This was such a personal question; how could he ask her that?
"Answer me, little one," Rade said as he tilted her chin up toward him so that she had no choice but to meet his gaze.
"Yes," she said, then burrowed into the softness of the mattress.
"Very well, then. We'll have to take care of that." Rade closed his eyes and seconds later, Kistle felt the dull throb in her nether regions disappear. She frowned at him when he opened his eyes.
"What language were you murmuring in?"
"It's Hersan. The language of Royalty. It holds mystical powers no one can really understand. I was taught it when I was younger and trust me, it has been a useful tool for most of my life." He smiled, using his lips to nuzzle the side of her smooth cheek. By the Spirits, she smelled lovely.
"You are royalty, Si- uh- Rade?"
"Yes. The Marq King and I are cousins of sorts." The lips on her cheeks traveled lower to where her pulse fluttered erratically.
"Oh!" Kistle squeaked when he nipped at the indentation of her pulse. A delicious shiver wracked her body.
"Rade, is it wise to – oh – we only did this a few – oh!"
She whimpered as his devil tongue found the delicate golden nub of her nipple. He traced it lightly with his tongue and even then, it coiled and pebbled in his hand so quickly that she could not even draw breath. She clutched at his dark head, her fingers intertwining with the thick mat of black curls on his head. Her hips lifted off the bed as she arched into his mouth. He continued to suckle her pert breasts deep into the wet cavity of his mouth until she was lost, yet again, in the hot, erotic void that he had spun around her once before.
His thumb and forefinger rolled her other nipple, flicking against the blunt tip of it gently, plucking it to give her pleasure. A throaty moan seem to emanate from her very soul as she clung to him, feeling need drizzle through her. She couldn't think about anything but the pleasure that was roiling in her veins and the heat of him plastered against her. But if she had a chance to think, she would probably realize what a wanton she'd become from the staunch nun she'd been. For now, though, the woman in her took control of her body and she let Rade show her the new feelings that had awakened with that woman.
His tongue sampled its way from one breast to the other and when it laved over another hard nipple, Kistle's moans became desperate. Because with the way he was caressing her came a longing and with that longing, came an empty ache. It wasn't only an ache in her loins but an ache that spread through her body. And for the first time that night, she acknowledged how badly she wanted him.
Her fingers cupped his jaw as it worked on her breast. She felt him jerk at the soft touch, as though he hadn't been expecting it, then he rubbed his jaw against her fingers as a gesture of acceptance.
Rade could hear her heart beating swiftly under him. It pleased him to note that he could drive her to do something she would never have done given a choice, and make her like it; perhaps even crave it. He could feel the way she was moving her hips against him, as though she was longing for him to thrust into her. He smiled against her glistening breast before placing a chaste kiss on its side and moving lower on his adventure of delight.
Fiddling with a luscious fold of dark skin above her navel, he bit into it, feeling the sudden, quick rush of blood to the skin's surface. He laughed huskily at her surprised squeak of pain and pleasure and smoothed the pad of his thumb over the bite mark. A sudden rush of possessiveness overwhelmed him as he took in the sight of his teeth marks on her flesh. She is yours, a voice in his head interrupted his exploration. A part of him acknowledged that fact but the other part was too distracted by the musky smell of her that invaded his senses. He pressed his mouth to the top of her sex and just rested there for a moment, feeling the tickle of her golden hair against his lips. He jerked again when one of her hands touched his head as though to coax him into hurrying his duty. His eyes flickered up to hers and found that the vivid violet of her eyes had darkened to a deep purple. He was entranced.
"Please…" he heard her beg as his mouth remained still on her soft mound. She wriggled against him, trying to push herself off the bed so that his mouth would lie against her slit instead. Rade watched her, enjoying her efforts for a couple of heartbeats before moving over her, depriving her of his mouth on her pussy. Kistle moaned in dismay when his mouth left her, but groaned in delight as it plunged into the heated recesses of her mouth.
It was like being drugged, Kistle thought. Not that she'd ever been drugged before, but if she had to imagine what it felt like, it should be like this. Her bones felt like they were melting and there was a heady daze muddling her brain. His hands felt like they were everywhere on hers and his heated gaze never left her own wanton ones.
Rade stroked her over and over, from breasts to back – even the softness of her bottom wasn't spared. He learned every nook and cranny of her, every inch of skin, every fold on her flesh. It was exquisitely delightful to know that she had a sensitive patch of flesh at the junction where her thighs met her bottom, and that she was most responsive to gentle touches. It was also the sweetest of sensations to know that he was pushing her to the brink of sanity when her finger nails started to rake shallow furrows on his back.
When he couldn't stand the wait any longer, and when her moans had turned into keening screams, he slid into her, heat into heat, flesh into flesh. She folded herself around him, welcoming him.
A feeling of wholeness washed over Kistle as he entered her. His skin felt so good, and he was so gentle with his touches. Everywhere their bodies were joined, she felt a tiny, lighting stab of pleasure and his hardness was driving her wild.
Rade waited for her to move first. The gyration of her hips wasn't long in coming. As soon as he slid into her, she moaned and lifted herself off the bed, wrapping her legs around the back of his thighs. She was so exquisitely beautiful in her sex that he couldn't resist looking at her as he started to move within her.
His strokes were unhurried, even leisurely, unlike his prior loving; Kistle wanted to kill him. She needed to feel him deep within her, like before. She wanted to see his eyes closed as he thrust himself into her, pleasure evident in all his features. She wanted him to hold her close and tell her that she had pleased him. She opened her mouth to tell him these things, but she found that she could not for his lips had descended upon hers in a blur.
As soon as his lips met hers, he could not stop the animal that took over him. She was so wet, hot and welcoming inside that he couldn't hold back any longer. He had meant to love her softly, slowly, but it looked like she wouldn't let him. Her legs on the back of his thighs were digging into the muscle painfully, demanding that he take her faster.
His hands ran down the length of her legs and secured them around his waist, enabling him to seat himself deeper within her. He moaned in ecstasy as he started pushing into her wet heat eagerly, and with abandon. It was a wild, uninhibited loving and he could've sworn that he hit her womb with each thrust from the way she shook and shivered under him, her eyes closed, her lips parted.
"Come with me, little one," he heard himself say as though from a distance as the waves of pleasure started to engulf him. He thrust into her once more as he felt his seed start, then he was lost.
Kistle heard herself cry out as a sticky, hot substance singed her womb. It was an exquisite bliss to feel herself taking flight after the tension that had rocked her body. The release shimmied through her like water flowing in a stream. It seemed like the delight went on forever and ever and she didn't really want it to end.
When she floated back to earth, she found herself buried under a mass of man. He was heavy, but not too heavy, and she rather liked his weight over her. She touched a hand to his black curls and waited for him to look up at her. When he did, she kissed him.
Rade let her dabble at her new-found sensuality. He briefly forgot the infertility spell that he'd been about to cast, letting himself drown in her gentleness.
It was a temperate kiss, a mere experimentation, and she smiled with impish joy when he reached for her to take the kiss deeper.
"What're you smiling at, imp?"
"Nothing," she said, although the smile never left her lips.
It was that point in time that the sun chose to rise and extend its rays onto the centre of their love nest. Rade looked at the shameless temptress on his bed and knew that with a sinking heart that he would be too busy for the rest of the day to take her again. He would have to wait until sunset.
He slapped her lightly on her bottom.
"Better get dressed, wench."
"Dressed? I don't have anything to wear, Rade," she said.
"There are garments in the closet, next to mine. You may wear them for the time being. I'll arrange for someone to see to your clothing needs, soon," he said, gesturing to a huge cupboard in the opposite corner of the room.
"Oh. Thank you." Kistle was already mentally picturing froths of lace and wool made to fit her body. She'd never worn anything other than her habit in all her twenty years and the prospect of dresses was really quite thrilling. What would she look like? She'd always imagined she'd look like a princess in a pink gown, but that was when she was younger. A purple one, perhaps, to match her eyes, with white lace around the bodice. Oh! It was all so exciting!
Rade angled his head at her, watching as a look of delight washed over her features. He didn't know what he'd said to give her that delight, but he was glad he'd said it. He reached out and ruffled her hair, repeating his order for her to get dressed.
"Oh. Now?" Kistle said, clasping the sheet to her breasts in modesty. She couldn't imagine traipsing across the room in nothing but skin, bare to his gaze.
"Of course. Now out with you, little one." When she didn't move, he flipped the sheet out from under her so that she rolled over the side of the bed and hit the floor with a loud thump.
"Ow! You pushed me!"
"Yes," he drawled, looking down at her from the corner of the bed. "I bit you, too, just now. You didn't complain then."
A drizzle of redness tinged her already heated cheeks.
"You- oh!" she fumed, forgetting her shyness. She marched across to the large, wooden cupboard and wrenched it open.
She stared at the contents of the cupboard in shock. Every article of clothing in it was either black, white or gold! It took Kistle a moment to realize that they were the Marq colours.
"What's wrong?" came a voice from behind her.
She turned to find Rade behind her and gasped before she could help it. It was the first time that she'd ever seen a naked man and Goddess, was he beautiful. The chiseled ridges on his stomach were gorgeous and his flanks were so well-muscled.
Between his thighs! Goodness. It was so big! No wonder he hadn't let her see it last night! It would've scared her half to death if he had.
Her cheeks were well-heated, but for the life of her, she couldn't look away. Her eyes remained fixed on his masculine form until he came to her and raised her chin.
"Enough ogling, wench. Put something on before I decide to ravish you again."
He reached into the cupboard and pulled out a pair of breeches and a thin shirt. She was horrified when he shrugged into both without any underwear.
"Why are you just standing there, little one? Are you attempting seduction?" he teased with a twinkle in his eye, when he looked up after pulling his clothing on. She still wasn't wearing a stitch of cloth. What was wrong with her?
"No, sir." Kistle's sudden nervousness made her lapse back into her habit of calling him 'sir'. "'Tis just that these are the Marq colours."
"What's wrong with that?" His eyes narrowed. "You're part of a Marq colony now, little one. You have to wear our colours."
"Nay, I'm a Kieranian, sir. I will not wear them." Instant pride for her nationality had her sticking her chin out at him. He chuckled at the petulant gesture, knowing that this was a fight he would win. She simply didn't have any other choice.
"Well, if you're not going to wear anything, it's fine by me. Just don't let anyone catch you roaming the manor in nothing but skin," he winked as he made his way to the door.
"Isn't there anything else I could wear?" she called.
"Nothing but the bed sheets."
He missed the odd gleam in her eye.
"By the way," he said, as he leaned in from the doorway. "I'll trust you in this manor alone, Kistle. Don't make me regret it. If you ever try to run away…" He left the threat open.
Kistle swallowed, then nodded. She saw the heat in his eyes and dreaded to cross it. It would mean a hefty consequence and she didn't know if she would be able to bear it. Besides, she already saw no point in running away; the Chapel wouldn't take her back after what she'd done.
Rade smiled when she nodded her acquiescence, then closed the tower door behind him.
Kistle stood rooted to the spot for a few more heartbeats, fingering the loose strands of her hair whilst hearing his receding footsteps. Then, when she could hear him no more, she made a wild dash for the bed.
He took the stairs two at a time, descending from the tower purposefully. The vision of Kieranian men gathering to fight the Marqs still haunted him. He didn't know if the vision was taking place at present or would take place in the future, but he didn't want to take any chances. The taking of Kierania was placed in his care, and he wasn't going to let his country down.
He stepped into the shadowed library, his footsteps ringing hollowly in the empty room. The early morning sun was still mild as it cast its rays onto the broad, mahogany desk. Rade briefly admired it as he settled himself behind it. Without losing any time, he drew a sheet of paper from a nearby cabinet and placed it on the desk. Then, pencil in hand, he began to draw.
He was bent over the task for what seemed like an eternity, but when he drew back and perused what he'd drawn, he smiled with satisfaction.
It was his vision come to life on paper. There was the king and the men at his feet, the lush mountains around them, and the royal castle. The pencil in his hand flew over the paper again, tweaking certain details here and there, making the drawing as accurate as possible. It was fundamental that he got every detail right to send back home to Dominique so that the War Department would get a good look at what they were up against. It would only be then that the WD would be able to be accurate in their plotting of how the taking of the rest of Kierania should be done.
Rade leaned back in his chair, frowning as an Army Leader's fear took root in him. It is natural to feel this way, his father, the previous war leader, had told him once. It is usual that a leader should feel such fear before a battle, for the uncertainty burdens the leader more than it does the people he leads. The only way for a leader to alleviate such a fear is to have his resources.
That was it! Rade thought. He felt uncertain about this war with Jisisle, when he'd never felt uncertain about other wars in his life. The king was a lazy old rat, but a sneaky one, as well. Rade didn't want to be left in the dark about Jisisle's moves for it could mean harm to the Marq's siege.
He knew only one way to safeguard his country's interest.
He called for Scar.
Scarlett Ranle Temeral sat in front of Rade, one booted foot propped on a knee. She scowled at him, showing her displeasure at having been awakened at such an ungodly hour. In fact, it had only been a few hours ago when she had been frolicking in bed with her lover, losing all her energy in one orgasm. And now, she sat before her war leader, tired and mussed and feeling exceedingly disgruntled.
Scar was a shifter, a half-human who could modify herself into anything she wanted. She'd been born on the star of Lismus, but after it had come under Marq control, she'd 'volunteered' to serve the army. She didn't have any objections about working for people who had been the cause of her star's downfall – her star had given her nothing but grief, anyway – but she sure as hell had something against someone waking her up at seven in the morning.
"What is it that you want, Rade?" she snapped, crossing her arms under her small breasts.
"I need your help," came the enigmatic reply. Scar groaned inwardly.
"No. No way. The last time I helped you, I was nearly burned at a stake for being a witch."
Rade laughed, recalling the scene. Well, she'd gotten out alive anyhow.
"This is different, Scar. Here, look at this." He handed the drawing of his vision to her, watching her masculine form digest what the situation was.
After a while, she said, "So, they're recruiting? And if they are, what do you want me to do about it?"
"There's the catch. I'm not sure if they are. The reason I summoned you is to help me check up on them."
"Wait. Spy for you, you mean?"
"Why me? Why not one of your men?" she asked, raking a hand through her short-cropped black hair. If she took this assignment up, she'd have to leave Remy, her lover, alone at home, and she didn't want that. She never wanted to leave Remy's side.
"You know why, Scar," Rade said quietly. "There's no one else who could fly to the royal castle and be back by tomorrow. Even by airhorse, it would take three days for one of my soldiers. You're the only one I could think of that could help."
Scar nodded, weighing her options, then she asked:
"What's in it for me?"
He knew she would ask for something in return; she always did. And this time, he had an offer that she would never refuse.
Rade saw the dangerous narrowing of her eyes and the tiny spear-like spikes that rose from her knuckles but was too much of a man to cringe.
"What? To one of your top officials? It might come as a shock to you, Rade, but I'm not interested in fucking your men, no matter what a privilege it's said to be." She got up to leave.
"No, you misunderstand. Marriage, yes, but not to one of my men." Scar stopped in mid-shift, the lower half of her body still translucent.
"Then who?" Giving in, she shifted to her human form and sat back down.
"Remy Grent Faels."
Scar jolted, staring at him in shock with her jaw hanging slightly open.