erotic dream. She knew exactly what he wanted. She could see a
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picture of it in her mind and knew that Beck was putting it there. She
could have told him that she wasn’t very good at that. Her ex-husband
had told her that she wasn’t good at anything when it came to pleasing
a man, but Meg suspected it might be different with Beck. If she
listened very carefully, he could show her what he wanted.
With shaky hands, Beck untied the fastenings on his pants and
roughly pushed them down to his knees. His cock sprang forward,
erect and enormous. It was thick and long, red at the base but
gradually giving way to a gorgeous plum color at the head. It pulsed
in his hand as he stroked himself. Meg could see a bead of milky
white moisture glistening on the tip. She wanted to taste that cum.
He moved forward and pressed the head of his dick against her
lips. “Take me.”
Tentatively, Meg reached out and brushed the tip of her tongue
across him, gathering the pre-cum on the head. He tasted salty and
masculine. As she watched, another drop wept out of the slit, and she
swiped her tongue across it again. His cock jumped, and pleasure
curled in her womb. She was already getting soft and moist just
thinking about taking him in her mouth.
His hands curled in her hair. She felt the full force of his will like
a drug in her veins. His voice was dark with need as he pulled her
head forward. He left no room to argue or for her to think about what
she was doing. She only knew that she wanted him. She wanted this.
“Open.”
She obediently opened her lips, groaning at the feel of his cock
pressing into her mouth. He was big, far bigger than her ex-husband.
She only had the head of his dick inside her lips, but she was already
struggling. He filled her mouth. She whirled her tongue around the
head of his cock, though the fit was tight. She explored the velvety
smooth skin. Such soft, silky flesh covered his raging hardness. A
wave of warmth infused her, and she knew what Beck was feeling.
His head was thrown back as he fed her his dick.
“More.” He seemed capable of only one-syllable phrases now.
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She looked up and saw his eyes were dark and filled with
unmistakable satisfaction as he watched his flesh disappear into her
mouth. His hands tugged at her hair, urging her on. He pressed
forward. Meg found herself struggling to breathe. He was so big, she
wasn’t sure she could take more, but she had to. It felt so good.
Beck’s pleasure coated her in need. She whirled her tongue around his
thickness as much as she could. It was almost more than she could
take. She could feel what he was feeling. She felt the softness of her
tongue and the heat of her mouth. She felt how much he wanted her
hands on him, so she lifted one hand to gently caress his balls.
“Yes.” Beck groaned as he thrust his hips forward, forcing in
another inch.
Meg relaxed and tried to ignore her gag reflex. She swallowed
around his cock. It seemed to break something in the big Fae warrior.
He growled, and Meg was almost overcome with his need to
dominate her. She gave herself up to the experience.
She knew somewhere in the back of her mind that she should be
gagging. She should be fighting him off, but the sensation of sharing
the experience with him was far more powerful than any physical
reaction. His fierce bliss as he fucked her mouth was beyond anything
she had every felt. He was ruthless. He shoved himself in her mouth,
all caution gone. Her pussy was soaking wet, and she was sure if she
touched her clit she would go off like a rocket. She was giving him
such pleasure, and it aroused her. She could see herself through his
eyes. She was sexy and hot. She was a goddess, and he was going to
tame her. She knew what was going through his mind. He was going
to fuck her until she promised never to leave him.
Beck fucked his way to the back of her throat. He shoved his cock
in, even as he pulled her head forward. The twin sensations called to
her submissive nature. He was so deep, she could feel his balls hit her
body. An almost painful anticipation was coursing through him. His
balls squeezed. Meg felt warning prickle tickled at the base of her
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spine. It was coming from him. He was close, she just felt it. He was
so close. Instinctively she swallowed around him when he hit the back
of her throat. Beck threw his head back and roared as he came.
Meg was suddenly full. Her mouth was filled with his essence,
and she was suffused with his orgasm. It rolled across her like a
powerful wave, bashing against her senses. Her womb clenched and
throbbed. Only Beck’s strong hands kept her from falling over. The
entire experience had been exquisite and completely draining.
“Lick me clean,” he ordered, keeping his hands tangled in her
hair.
She obediently licked his softening cock, running her tongue
along his skin. She tried not to miss a drop. It felt so good. The
orgasm itself had been massive. It was like a high-powered
locomotive barreling into her. This pleasure was softer, sweeter. It felt
like tenderness and caring.
And then it was gone. The connection was cut abruptly, and Meg
felt cold at its loss.
“What am I doing?” Beck asked in a rough voice. He let go of her.
She fell to the sand, completely exhausted.
She watched through languid eyes as he tucked himself back in
and refastened his trousers. She felt so peaceful and sweetly lethargic.
Now he would tell her how pleased he was with her. He would kiss
her and hold her. He would see to her pleasure. It would feel so good
to make love with him.
He didn’t look pleased as he reached down and hauled her up into
his arms.
“Cover yourself,” he ordered harshly.
She noted her robe had come open. Her breasts were bare, the
nipples puckered and wanting.
Meg began to come out of her pleasure-induced haze. Just minutes
before, she wouldn’t have cared if she had been completely naked to
the world. She had only cared about pleasing Beck, but now a flush of
shame suffused her. What had seemed so loving before now seemed
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perverse without his kindness. She was confused. He’d seemed
pleased with her, but his demeanor now told a different tale.
She pulled the sides of her robe together so she didn’t offend him
with her nudity. As he carried her out of the arena, she kept her hands
at her sides, sensing that he wouldn’t welcome her touch.
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Chapter Five
She wouldn’t touch him.
Beck kept his face painfully passive as he marched back to the
tent Rhys had put together for the compatibility ritual. If everything
had gone as it should have gone, he would have taken Meg back
to
this tent and very gently, respectfully made love to her in front of two
witnesses. Rhys would have been one, and the vampires would have
selected one. It was a simple ritual to prove he could take care of her
sexually.
Instead, he had proven that he was an animal.
Now she wouldn’t look at him, and he didn’t blame her. He had to
hold her tight because she refused to put her arms around his neck.
Cara was at the door to the tent and held it open as she eyed him.
She looked at the pale female in his arms. Beck knew what she was
seeing. She was looking with pity on the woman he had just married.
He had treated her like a whore. Beck sighed inwardly. He avoided
Cara’s eyes. He’d never treated a whore that way.
Beck laid her down as gently as he could on the bed that had been
prepared for them. It was covered with thick, soft blankets and
pillows. Flowers had been strewn—marigolds, St. John’s Wort, and
shamrocks. It was a lovely setting and would have made a beautiful
bridal bed. Instead, he’d shoved her to her knees in the middle of a
bloody arena and throat-fucked her in front of a crowd.
He tried not to think about how soft and sweet she looked lying on
the bed. There was nothing he wanted more than to climb into bed
beside her and attempt in some way to make up for the way he had
treated her. He wanted to kiss her and hold her. He wanted to tell her
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Sophie Oak
how much she was already coming to mean to him. He wanted to beg
her forgiveness and promise to never, ever treat her that way again.
She wouldn’t believe him. He was obviously a man of no honor.
He’d proven it in the arena today. If he had a shred of honor, he
would walk away from her now. He could provide her with nothing
but a dying brother and a ramshackle brugh on a meaningless plane of existence. He should allow Dante to take her to his plane. At least
there she would be fed, clothed, and taken care of.
“Clean up.” His words were harsh to his own ears. “We leave in
an hour.”
“Sire,” Cara blurted, looking startled. “Surely you cannot expect
your bondmate to travel this evening.”
He stared down at the little gnome. He had been raised to be a
king, and though he was no longer that man, he still expected to be
obeyed without question. It had been bred into his character. A king
never explained his actions, even when they were wrong. He was sure
Cian would have knelt and explained himself to the small woman, but
then, Cian would never have been in this mess in the first place. Cian
would never have screwed up so badly with a woman that she
couldn’t stand to look at him.
“If you have a problem with it, I’ll take her now,” he said softly.
The little gnome held her ground, but he could see it cost her.
“No, Sire. I will make sure she is ready for the long and arduous
journey.”
Beck strode to the door. He needed a bath, but he wouldn’t disturb
hers. If things had gone as planned, he would have cleaned her up
himself. He would have shown her how tender he could be. He would
have eased into the hot tub with her, kissed her, and washed her hair.
“If she runs, I’ll hold you and yours personally responsible,” he
growled. He was somewhat satisfied by her nervous nod.
The waning sunlight was still hot on his skin. That would change.
He knew by nightfall the forest would be cold. If he took her out
there, she would have no choice. She would have to cling to him for
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warmth and protection. Perhaps out in the forest she would begin to
learn to trust him.
The former heir ignored those who called out greetings to him. He
didn’t want to hear about his soon-to-be-legendary victory. The damn
bards would be singing about it soon enough. They had no idea how
close that victory had come to being a bloodbath. Only Meg’s sweet
hand had stayed him, and she had paid for her interference. He left
orders with the stable boy to get his horse ready then made his way to
the river that ran near the marketplace. He tossed his shirt, boots, and
trousers on the grass and dove in where he knew the water was deep
and cold.
The chill hit his system like a bloody winter blast. He gritted his
teeth against the bite of pain along his skin. He dove deep, refusing to
come up for air or warmth. His lungs could handle it. He wrapped his
hands around the strong reeds, anchoring himself to the bottom. It was
quiet here. There was no incessant chatter. There was no one to
constantly remind him of duties that were no longer his. They didn’t
understand. He had been the deposed King of the Seelie for almost
half his life now. Couldn’t they leave him be?
Beck watched a small school of fish swim by. The river was
remarkably clear and lovely. It reminded him of the river that ran by
the white palace in Tir na nÒg . His mother would take him, Cian, and
their sister Bronwyn down, and she would sit with her ladies while
they swam. Cian would splash their sister and tease her mercilessly,
but Beck wasn’t able to join their fun. He was expected to act the king
always .
“Eyes are always on you, son,” his father would say. “They
expect Cian to act the fool, but you must be the warrior king every
minute of your life.”
What would his father have thought of his actions this day?
Would his father understand that life had dealt him a horrible set of
cards and he’d played them the only way that made sense? Or would
he turn away in shame? Beck rather thought it might be the latter.
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All of his life he had been trained to ruthlessly hide the beast that
lived inside him. His own mother had always told him that symbiotic
twins were considered powerful, but everyone knew they were
difficult to raise. The warrior half required balance to stop his violent
nature from running wild. The intellectual half needed grounding or
he spent his life in daydreams. It was only through bonding with a
proper mate that the two halves could truly live balanced lives.
The bonding was a sacred act. It was a gift from the bondmate to
her husbands. It was to be treasured and revered.
He had forced it on her when she didn’t even understand what she
was accepting.
Finally his lungs burned, and he allowed himself to float toward
the light. He broke the surface, taking a deep breath.
“I was wondering if you were going to put in an appearance or if
you would allow the kelpies to take you.” Dante sat against a large
tree, his long legs spread out in front of him. He had his tablet out and
was playing with it. Beck knew Dante was very attached to his
computer. He was constantly looking for downloads, better known as
DLs. DLs consisted of everything from entertainment to education.
“There aren’t any kelpies here.” Beck smoothed his long, black
hair from his face. “There are some kelpies in the forest, but none this
close to a village.”
The forest where he was about to take his Meg was considered a
bit dangerous. It was full of all sorts of nasty creatures.
Dante tossed him a bar of soap. It was pink. The vampire had
probably stolen it from the females’ tent. Still, it would take the stink
of battle off him. Beck soaped up, grateful for the cold. It was the first time since meeting Meg that he wasn’t uncomfortably hard.
Not true. There had been that moment after Meg had swallowed
him down. Her throat had closed around him, and he’d shot his cum
straight down. She’d taken every drop of him. Even after he was
done, she had been so sweet and submissive. He’d wanted nothing
more than to praise her for her gift to him. He’d wanted to haul her
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into his arms and fuck that sweet pussy of hers. She wouldn’t have
said no. She would have spread her legs and welcomed her master.
She would have been terribly insulted. She was a lady, a
bondmate. She deserved respect. His wants and needs were perverse.
She would help him overcome them. Once he and Cian had properly
bonded, the overwhelming need he felt to dominate his lovers during
sex would go away. It had to.
“I don’t understand you, cos,” Dante admitted. The light was
fading now. The vampire didn’t need the hood of his shirt. He sat
negligently in the shade, but then, everything Dante Dellacourt did
had an air of negligence about it.
“I don’t expect you to.” Beck soaped his long hair. It should have
been Meg’s job. Washing her husband’s hair was the responsibility of
a Fae woman. He had given up the right when he treated her like a
piece of trash.
“You’re tearing yourself apart over what happened out there, and
I’m not sure which part is killing you. You aren’t responsible for the
fact that you’re losing control. You should have been bonded five
years ago. If I recall, your parents had already betrothed the two of
you to a nice royal girl.”
Beck snorted. He remembered Maris. How could he forget? He’d
known since he was very young that she was his future bondmate. She
had been a cool blonde and very aware of her position, even as a