King of the Seditious

And touch her he did. Taking his time caressing her. Stroking along the outside of her legs and appreciating her perfectly formed shape. The lovely globes of her breasts and then up to her slender throat. Slipping his fingers along it to touch her lightly. Cherishing every part of her. Rolling his fingertips along her inner arms and making her shiver pleasurably.

“You are mine, Murah.”

“I know…” She whispered. Opening her arms and tipping her head back to offer herself fully to his touches and sensual kisses.

Savage touched her until he was certain they’d both had their fill. Then he rubbed a rough palm along the inside of her thigh and fingered her lower lips until they were sopping with her need. He swirled a finger delicately into the trophy of her body. Feeling the downy softness wrapping around his digit while she panted and writhed over the coverlet. Beginning to lift her ass to meet his rubbing.

Finally, she leaned up to catch his arm in her clawing fists. Meeting his gaze and her lips parting as she drove the center of her body down on his knuckles to push his finger deeper into her. She squeaked through clenched teeth and vibrated against his hand.

Coming until she was flush with pleasure. Her red waves of hair pouring around her face and dropping down over that sweating, creamy skin.

Beyond compare.

“Savage…” She pleaded.

He gave a half-grin. “As you wish.”

Only then did he stroke himself until he too was ripe for her.

He climbed over her, and she caught her breath. Her body tensing and the hint of fear entering her eyes.

No.

He shook his head at that glimmer of fear haunting her and dropped sideways off her. “No.”

She eyed him. Scanning his face for answers. Before giving him any more time to think, she slung a leg over his hips and caught his backside with his heel and scooted herself toward him. Adjusting until her entrance rubbed along the edge of his member.

Growling in his throat, his eyes flared yellow, and he had to close them to keep her from seeing as he reared back and entered her. Sinking into that luscious heat until he was clasped in the center of her body.

He watched her carefully as he began coaxing in and out of her. Ensuring he moved slowly so he could stop if she became distressed.

But when she began pushing harder down onto him and whimpering, wanting more, he gave it to her.

Moving more roughly and watching her face. She held the back of his neck and looked into his eyes as she met each of his strokes with tiny thrusts of her own. Their bodies on their sides. Writhing together where they connected until ecstasy found them in an explosive surge that had her dampening his length and him straining to be inside her, filling her with the evidence of his heightened pleasure.

Once completed, she was soon asleep on his chest. Hugging him and not moving to dislodge him.

So, he laid there. Unable to rest, as he often was and held her. Letting her seek comfort in his warmth and the shape of his hard body so close to her. Ready to ward off anyone that would hurt her.

He’d been lost in thought as the sun came up and she awoke against him.

“It’s your fault, you know?”

He gave her a startled look. The attackers in the alehouse?

“What is?” He asked, utterly flabbergasted.

“That I don’t understand things in your world. The complexities. You’ve sheltered me too long, as you’ve said. And in that innocence, you kept for me, you have made me ignorant to other things, I think. So thusly, my naivete is your own fault.”

He frowned. Not liking the blame for that placed on him, though he had already known it to be true. Somewhere in the back of his mind.

He grunted and rolled onto his back. Stiff from not moving all night to allow her, her rest.

“I don’t know how much longer I can protect you…” He admitted. Tossing his forearm over his face to shelter his eyes from the sun pouring in through the slit in the tent.

“What do you mean?’

“You won’t listen, and you can’t see.” Savage said, staring up at the tent.

“How could I see? You never explain yourself to me.”

He gave her an objecting glance from under his arm. I don’t know how.

Even after all these years, I’ve no real idea how to discuss such things.

Dimurah sighed as she rolled to her back. Turning her head to meet his gaze. “I don’t know what you’re thinking, feeling, or what you’re going to do two minutes from now.”

“I don’t know what I’ll have to do two minutes from now!”

“No, perhaps not.” She calmed. “But you’re always plotting days, weeks, months in advance. Even I don’t know how much of Ardae you control.”

“All of its underbelly.”

“What does that entail?”

Filthy politics. Stealing, raiding. Gaining power.

“Ugliness, villainy, cruelty, death, and killing. All things you hate me being involved in.”

“Though I favor none of those, it isn’t those things I hate. It’s your secrets!”

He tilted his head back to stare haughtily down his nose. Telling her she’d get no ground in this argument.

“Don’t you give me that look!” She pointed a finger. Climbing to her feet. “I know that look and I’m not having it.” She tossed an arm. “I don’t understand you!”

His jaw ticked but his voice had turned eerily calm. “I’m an animal.”

“I don’t think even you know what that means.” She snarled. Tugging the pieces of her torn dress up over her shoulders and pushing the skirts down, then trying to tug the tattered ends of her bodice together as though if she tried hard enough, they would suddenly magically stay.

It means I’m more loyal than humans. That I protect my ground and fight for what I need. He snarled in frustration. Knowing he was unable to articulate his racing thoughts.

“What is your goal in attaining all this power?” She queried softly. “Give me something to hold onto, Jax. Something that tells me I’m not imagining our closeness.”

“Imagining?” He was shouting again.

Why am I shouting?

Because she could’ve gotten herself raped. Or killed. Because she has the power to crush my spirit.

“What do you want from me?” His hands were flexed open before him in aggravation.