DREAM UPON WAKING, Page 2

  "Shalhevet's Mercy," he murmured. "I am not so pitiless that I can ignore that. Not when it is so clear to me how badly you need release."

  He pitied her, which was something altogether different than mercy. Noa pressed her lips together, then rehooked her cloak. She got to her feet.

  "I don't want your pity, my lord, no matter how much I might deserve it." She turned, humiliation burning in her chest. The tears clouding her vision made her stumble, and she caught herself with one hand on the edge of a table. She paused to blink her vision clear. Her breasts and clitoris ached from unfulfilled desire, but 'twas no different a sensation than had haunted her many nights before this.

  "I did not say you could leave, girl!"

  The thunder of his voice, so familiar, stopped her. Noa did not turn. She straightened her back and clenched her fists at her side, then twisted her head until she gave him her profile.

  "You take my truth and you throw it in my face to shame me?" she asked. "They say you are arrogant, and I've seen they are right. They say you are powerful, and I know that account to be true as well. But no matter what stories they whisper about you after you pass, no matter what tales the older students use to frighten the younger, I have never believed it when it is said that you are cruel. Until now."

  "Take not one step further," he said in warning.

  She whirled to face him. "Or what? What shall you do? Bid me get on my knees again? Bid me to lay down on the floor so you can strip my innocence from me while you mock my desire?"

  "I am not in the habit of deflowering maidens with such lack of finesse," Riordan replied.

  Her anger, spurred by her humiliation, had not abated. "No? From what I heard, you're not in the habit of anything at all!"

  His eyes narrowed. "Now what tales do they tell of me?"

  She allowed the twitch of smile touch her lips, though she'd never felt less like laughing. "They say you haven't brought a woman to your bed in nearly six harvests. Nor a man. That you spend each night alone, no matter how many willing partners you might have. Some say 'tis because you wish not to dilute your magic with excess sexual congress. Others claim your preferences run to the perverse—that the mere flesh of another human can not satisfy your urges."

  He lifted an eyebrow at her. "Really? And pray tell me, pretty one. What do you think?"

  Noa replied calmly, "I think you are afraid of intimacy."

  His laugh was short and cut off abruptly. He sneered and flicked his hand at her dismissively. "Then you are wrong."

  "I asked you to spare me Shalhevet's Mercy. I take back my request."

  Again, she turned to leave, and again his command forced her to halt. She knew he could have used the force of his will to glue her feet to the floor, but it took only his words to keep her from moving.

  "And if I won't let you? If I insist you stay?'

  Noa bent her head for a moment, worrying the soft flesh of her lower lip with her teeth. Everything had gone so horribly awry. She'd been a fool to think he'd want her when even the loveliest women at Somnus Keep hadn't been able to lure him into their beds. She'd asked him for Shalhevet's Mercy because she thought it was the only certain way to get him to agree to be her ahavatara, and she'd even failed at that.

  "You don't even know my name," she whispered, broken, her heart cracking beneath the weight of the love she did not wish to have for him.

  She was at the door, her hand on the great brass latch, before he spoke.

  "You do me great disservice," said Riordan. "Noa."

  Her fingers clenched on the smooth, cold brass.

  "Turn around."

  She did, hope setting her heart to a frenzied beat. He hadn't moved from his chair. His hair looked rumpled, as though he'd been running his hands through it. He lifted his hand and crooked a finger at her.

  "I cry your mercy, Noa. I was unkind because…because I have no excuse. I was cruel to mock you, and I cry your mercy."

  "You shall have it, my lord."

  "As you shall have mine, not Shalhevet's," Riordan said. "Come here."

  She went to him as though upon a cloud of air. Again, he whispered the words she'd dreamed so often, though now they were less a command and more a request. "Get on your knees."

  She did.

  "Slide up my robe. To my thighs."

  Bright sparkles of color flickered in Noa's vision the first time she touched the heavy linen of his black cassock. She heard the soft chuff of his laughter and humiliation stabbed at her. He could see the sparkles, too, and could sense the arousal triggering them to dance around her head. Still, he said nothing, so she continued.

  The cassock was lined with crimson satin. She'd glimpsed the color often as she watched him pace the classroom. When he turned corners, the red beneath the black winked at her. Now she let her fingers slide across the luxuriant fabric and imagined it as his skin.

  She gripped the robe's hem and lifted it to his ankles. His feet were bare despite the cold floor; his toes long and his ankles strong. She lifted the robe over his calves, scrunching the cloth between her fingers. Her thighs shifted as she knelt, and she fought a shudder as the first coarse hairs on his legs brushed her knuckles. She lifted the hem to his knees, then to his thighs.

  Noa stopped, still gripping the handfuls of his cassock. The red satin shimmered in front of her. Riordan hadn't moved.

  She waited, aching to move further, but not daring. Her fingers opened and closed slightly on the bunched cloth. She wanted to feel his flesh beneath her fingers, not the damn robe!

  "Farther."

  She pushed it farther, to the spot where the hair grew sparser and his skin paler. He shifted to allow her to push it higher. Fear struck her suddenly, and she stopped.

  "I didn't give you leave to stop."

  "Forgive me, my lord." Noa had to force the words from a throat gone dry. "I've never… I never have…"

  "Of course you haven't, Noa. That's why you came to me, isn't it? To give up your maidenhead in return for the power I can give you?"

  Noa nodded, thinking he could never know her real reasons. "I've waited a long time."

  "Push it farther."

  She took a deep breath and did as he commanded. He was as bare as she beneath the robe, and she wondered for the first time if he'd been expecting her. Then he lay exposed to her, the part of him she'd dreamed of when she squirmed on the hard desk during spells lessons. She blinked and forced herself not to look away.

  "You are…magnificent," she breathed.

  Her words seemed to startle him, because he let out another low noise. "Take me in your mouth."

  Oh, gladly! But Noa had no idea of how to practically do so from her position. She lifted herself higher by putting her hands on his thighs. Now her face was close enough. She closed her eyes, opened her mouth and slid the first inch of him into her mouth.

  She could not hold back the moan. Instinctively, she rested her belly on his knees and gripped the length of his shaft with her hands. Oh, she had dreamed of this, but even in her dreams she'd not imagined the sensations would shoot through her like comets in the night sky.

  Riordan lifted himself slightly and nudged himself further into her mouth. For one panicky instant Noa tensed, certain the feeling would make her gag. She thought a conforming spell, a calming spell, then could concentrate solely on the pleasure pouring through her.

  Though she'd never done this act, she'd spent enough time preparing for it in Sexual Arts class. She let him slide out, then in again, then suckled gently on the contoured head of his erection. Her hands found the weight of his testicles and she stroked them in time to her mouth's movements.

  Eager to taste and touch every part of him, Noa slid her mouth down the shaft to the swell of his balls. She pressed her mouth to them, then slid out her tongue to run it along the puckered line leading from the root of his cock. His hands gripped her hair harder, and she thought he muttered a curse.

  She slid a hand beneath her robe. She needed no more th
an a series of light strokes to return her to the quivering brink of climax. Noa slid a finger inside herself, imagining it as Riordan's cock. She eased it in, then out, letting only the tip enter her slick hole. Her thumb rubbed her clitoris and her hips bucked.

  Noa licked Riordan's balls, losing herself in the sensual onslaught overcoming her. He closed his hand around the base of his cock and slid it up and down as she tongued his testicles. Beneath her cheek, his thigh tensed and relaxed as he stroked and she licked.

  Noa no longer had to touch herself to continue her arousal. Just shifting her thighs, slippery from her juices, against one another kept her clit throbbing. She pushed her pelvis against Riordan's chair, aware her body was setting its own pace and following its own urges.

  His hands entwined in her hair and she welcomed his instruction. He pulled gently, and she left the sweetness of his balls and returned to his length. When he tugged her hair, she pulled away, and when he pressed gently, she took him back in. She never left him completely. His penis grew slick with her spittle, and she tasted a musky, slippery fluid on her tongue.

  Startled, Noa pulled away. It was over so soon? "My lord?"

  He'd thrown his head back against the back of the chair. His eyes had closed. Now they opened, and she was surprised and flattered to see his gaze was glazed.

  He looked down at his erection, the slickness of her saliva giving it a shimmer in the candlelight. "Nay, sweetling. The deed is not done. 'Tis only a taste of what is to follow."

  She nodded and pressed her mouth lightly to his penis again, grateful he hadn't mocked her lack of knowledge. He could be cruel in the classroom, and vicious to students who hadn't done their lessons. Though his arrogance was part of what drew her to him, she was glad he wasn't showing it now.

  She took the head of him in her mouth again, but this time, he stopped her. "It is not too late to leave."

  "My lord, nay!" Noa pushed herself off his lap in dismay. "If I am not pleasing you, my lord, I'll do better!"

  He made a noise that was nearly a growl. "Not please me?"

  He grasped the thickness of his erection and slid his hands along its length. "Think you this an indication that you do not please me?"

  "I want to please you." Noa moved to go to her knees again, hungry for his cock, but he stopped her.

  "There is more to lovemaking than this. And I would serve you the way you seem determined to serve me."

  "My lord?"

  "On a bed," Riordan said patiently. "You have chosen me, despite the warnings and the stories. I would have you enjoy the experience at least."

  Did he think she would not? "My lord, merely being with you is joy enough."

  He gave her a sharp glance. "Now 'tis your turn to mock me then?"

  Noa refused to look away from his steely glare. "I cry your mercy, my lord. I do not mock."

  He stood, the folds of his cassock falling back down to his feet. Noa made a small, involuntary noise of protest when the material hid his beauty from her. Then she let out another unintentional noise of surprise when he swept her into his arms.

  Noa's breath caught in her throat with a sting like the prick of thorns. For an instant, she fancied she even tasted blood. Riordan's powerful arms cradled her against his muscled chest. He strode without hesitation toward the arched doorway to his bedchamber.

  Noa put her arms around Riordan's neck, lost in his embrace. She put her face to his chest and breathed in the scent of him. Smoke and musk…and, incongruously, the scent of flowers. All Soul's Bucket.

  He shifted his arm so she slid down to stand before him. Their bodies pressed together. Noa was taller than most of her female classmates, but in Riordan's arms she felt petite. She had to tilt her head back to look at his face.

  He gazed down at her, his black eyes smoldering with flashes of gold and red. He gave a sharp twist of his head toward the fireplace in the corner, and it burst into heat and light. He gave another glance at the lamp next to the bed, and its light was extinguished. The scent of flowers grew stronger, briefly. The length of her hair crackled with the spark of Riordan's power.

  Now the room was bathed in black, red and gold. Purple and green still gleamed in his dark hair.

  He was going to kiss her. Noa let her head fall back further to allow him access to her mouth. Ah, he was going to kiss her, like she'd dreamed, like she'd prayed about…

  He didn't kiss her. She opened her eyes, embarrassed to be acting like the mooning schoolgirl she hadn't been before. Riordan tilted his head, his mouth parted. But he didn't kiss her.

  Disappointment flooded her, but Noa made no protest when he told her to get on the bed. This was it then. The time had come.

  She closed her eyes again, waiting for his weight upon her, waiting for the stab of pain that meant her time with him was over. Tears burned against the backs of her lids.

  She felt gentle hands on her, opening her cloak's catch at her throat, then the line of hooks and eyes down the front. She felt the whisper of the fabric against the sheets as it slid from her shoulders. She heard Riordan's sharp intake of breath when he saw she was naked beneath it.

  Noa tensed, waiting. At last she opened her eyes. Riordan knelt between her parted legs, his gaze solemn. He looked at her breasts and the nipples she knew must be pink and rigid. His gaze took in the soft curve of her belly, and the circular tattoo that marked her as common born. He looked at the mound of her womanhood with its crinkly hair a shade darker than her ash blond head. She parted her legs wider to allow his gaze to caress her everywhere; especially there, where she'd yearned so long for his touch.

  Riordan rested his hands lightly on her ankles. His fingers closed on the fragility of her bones. She felt the strength in those fingers she'd seen painting thousands of designs in the air. He could break her bones with little more than his will, but Noa didn't fear his strength.

  He slid his hands up her calves, then to her thighs, mimicking her earlier journey. Riordan stretched himself down on the bed's softness. His breath puffed against her center. Noa squirmed.

  At last, he kissed her. His lips pressed lightly on the kernel of her arousal. Noa sighed and shifted beneath him. Her legs parted further, without effort. His hands touched the inside of her thighs and opened her even more. She was exposed to him completely.

  Riordan flicked his tongue against her folds, then on her swelling bud. Noa gasped. Riordan swiped his tongue more firmly against her, then took her clitoris gently between his lips and suckled.

  Noa's hips rolled upward as the sensation rocked through her. Sweet Stars, but nothing had prepared her for this! Despite all her nighttime explorations of her body, climax had been forbidden to her until now. She arched her back, helpless against the feeling of the exquisite softness of his mouth on her, the feather-light probing of his tongue along her folds. She had thought she would gain pleasure from this night if for no other reason than she loved him. She hadn't dreamed he would see so thoroughly to her pleasure as well.

  "Stars above, but you are sweeter than honey."

  He continued to stroke her with the fullness of his tongue, pausing now and then to probe with only the tip. Noa rocked her hips, aching for release.

  Riordan slid his finger inside her gently. She felt him probe the barrier that had held her back from reaching her full strength. A pain, brief but sharp, stabbed her, and she winced.

  What would it be like when he filled her?

  Riordan gave her no time to ponder. He slid another finger inside her, stretching. All the while he continued the relentless pressure of his mouth and lips and tongue. He moved the two fingers in and out in rhythm to his strokes, much as Noa had done earlier with her mouth on his cock.

  She heard noises coming from her own throat and was helpless to stop them. Words, pleas, his name over and over.

  "Riordan!"

  She had never called him that before, always referring to him deferentially as my lord, or Instructor. Now the syllables of his name rolled from her lips w
ith the ease of water flowing to the sea.

  His pace quickened and she rode with it, meeting the thrusts of his fingers and tongue with her own. The bed enfolded her, embraced her. Noa felt as though they lay on a ship's deck, moving with the wind and the waves to some distant shore that was rapidly approaching.

  He paused. She protested. Her head tossed side to side on the pillow. It was the place he laid his own head at night to sleep and dream, and that thought had her suddenly cresting toward her climax more than anything else.

  For this one night, she shared Riordan's bed.

  Just when she thought she might cry with frustration, he kissed her again. This time, the gentle pressure of his lips on her aroused bud sent her over the edge. Something cracked within her, exploded, shattered, and she soared on the sensation and rode it toward the stars. Her back arched and her arms came up to cradle her chest and her throbbing breasts.

  He pressed against her again, and she surged again, more briefly this time, and less intensely. When she opened her eyes, Noa felt certain she would be in her own bed, waking from the frequent dream.

  But no, Riordan stared at her from his place beside her on the bed. She hadn't noticed him moving from between her legs. Now he rested on his elbow on the bulk of her cloak still tangled in the sheets.

  Noa blinked, spent and still reeling from her first orgasm. No wonder untried maidens were prevented by magic from achieving climax before their first time. If she'd known the exact level of ecstasy that awaited her, she would not have been satisfied to wait until the magic had ripened within her.

  Riordan's dark hair fell across his shoulders. A band of red peeped out from above the high, banded collar of his cassock. Against the ivory of his flesh, the color spoke of lust and power, like the man himself.

  "You have the most intriguing eyes."

  Noa's hand went to cover her face. Her eyes, one green and one brown, had been a source of shame her entire life. Some said the mismatched set was the reason she'd taken so long in reaching her womanhood. Others said it must be the result of her common birth. Nobody had ever called them intriguing.